Seth -- the starving in India represent something—the part of the planet that is in pain

Seth looked around at each of us in turn, his eyes wide, dark, and penetrating. "Again, individually and en masse, you choose your reality," he continued, his voice now rasping out in a throaty whisper.

 "So the starving in India represent something—the part of the planet that is in pain; the place where beliefs do not mesh; where the spiritual and the physical are so divorced in practical terms. The gurus may go on fasting retreats, but in the meantime, they eat well!  They do not lie in gutters in their own vomit!

"Those of you have enough money to live may adapt the garb of the poor. You may disdain what you think of as wealth, yet by those [starving men's] standards, you are indeed each a king!

"What we have those rituals been? And I use the word 'ritual' because you understand, in your terms, what you mean by it, There is a ritual in starvation; a ceremony. It is the opposite of the ceremony that takes place with chandeliers and shining silver and china plates. It is the opposite of the ceremony offered by the gurus."

Seth bent forward in Jane's rocker, looking quite stem. "There is a ceremony of the seasons; a ritual of the seasons that is blessed and exuberant and knows its own order. The guru can well afford to luxuriate in it!”

"Here [in class], comfort blankets are taken away from you. Or, rather, you take them away from yourselves, though now and then you tug for them, and think how lovely one would be, for just a moment!"

Then Seth's voice really rang out:

"You are your own great ceremonies, as the seasons are their own great ceremonies. If ever there was a time when natural ceremonies should be recognized, the ceremony—indeed, the loving ceremony—of the seasons and of spontaneous song and of spontaneous joy, then this is, in your terms, the time!

"It is not the time to set up new rules or regulations or even loving dogmas. In your terms, you have been through that before. Each of you, in your own way, will creatively do your thing, with the material or the Sumari, or your interpretation of it; and that is good. That is what it is for. We give it to you to use as you 542

will. But there will be no new organization, no new church, no new cult, There will be a brotherhood of men and women who know themselves, and who explore the nature of the* own reality, subjectively and objectively!"

Seth paused in his delivery, and Allan Demming, who had been arguing in favor of a "Seth school," spoke up. "Are you really telling us that reality is entirely isolated within the individual?" he said. "If so, then that seems to mean that there's no joyous coming together possible, because—"

"Now, raindrops fall," Seth interrupted. "They are all individual. They do not stop and together think, 'We must all fall together upon Elmira, New York, at four o'clock this afternoon!' Yet, by being themselves, they bring freshness and vitality to the grass and flowers by thus falling.

"You cannot separate yourselves from others or from your world," Seth said to the class in general. "Indeed, neither can you immerse your individuality, as you know, in others.  But by being yourself completely, you are automatically doing what you yourself want to do—fulfilling the purpose that is your own, and pining with others of like purpose.  And you become, therefore, a force of nature, and in trusting that force that is yourself, you flow naturally into those areas of your own interest and the interests of others.

"You are a brotherhood—you do not need to form one!  You meet with other [Sumari] in your sleep. You do not need credentials—none of you!

"Now, I understand your need, because of your historical existence, for exterior organization," Seth went on, his voice now soft and affectionate. "But I say to you that the real organizations are inside. And when you thoroughly understand this, there will be no need for exterior ones, for they will naturally appear, as the raindrops naturally appear—and you will change yourselves and the world; as raindrops change the world each time they fall."

Seth ended this exposition while staring directly at Richie Kendall, who was sitting next to Mary on the edge of the blue sofa, obviously waiting anxiously for a chance to ask a question. Now he and Seth grinned at one another, and Richie launched into it with his familiar playful intensity.

Class roared with laughter.  Richie worried endlessly about possible material possessions that he didn't have. ("Which was probably why he didn't have any," Jane observed years later.)

"Even I have trouble following that reasoning!" Seth bellowed humorously.

"Well, by being spontaneous," Richie shouted over the laughter and guffaws, "wherever my spontaneity takes me—Come on, you guys, shut up!—if I'm being spontaneous, then naturally I'm helping the world of which I'm automatically a part of, right?"

"You are indeed!" Seth answered.

"All right, so even though there are people starving in India and money could be sent there to feed them—if my spontaneity leads me toward buying a beautiful house, a beautiful car, a beautiful—"

"If you allow your spontaneity its own freedom, then you can quite happily have whatever you want!"  Seth roared back. "But spontaneity will also lead you to thoughts of love for others; it will lead you to realize that you cannot plunder your planet; and it will lead you to realize that as long as one person is starving, then you are starving in ways that you are too ignorant to realize!"

Richie's grin hadn't left his face. "Ah-huh!" he responded. "Sure! That clears it right up!"

"Now Richie's gonna run out and spend all his money on new clothes!" someone laughed.

--Seth, Conversations with Seth, Vol. 2