“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

I ran into the kitchen. “Do you want some now?”
Rob shook his head.
“There’s something that wants you back at the board.
You’d better sit down again.”

But he was benign and jovial as a bishop
Someone might ask in for an evening of tea,
And when he let me peek out through his eyes,
The familiar living room seemed very strange.

“Did you ever know a Frank Withers?” I asked finally. “His name came up the other day. Someone said you knew him.”

By now, we were also trying other experiments for my book, which I was writing during the mornings. And in our 12th Session Seth gave what I still think of as a cornerstone that served as a preliminary framework upon which the rest of The Seth Material would be built. I have quoted parts of it in other books, yet the analogy Seth gave us is such an excellent introduction to the interior universe and to his ideas that it is almost indispensable. Each time I read it, I gain new insights.

“The cobbler was an old man. He was also the sexton of a small church, the Church of England. He used to ring the bells. His wife was fifty-three, Anna. She wore glasses and had grayish white hair and was very stout and messy.

“There was a boy in the shop, too — not their son, an apprentice to the cobbler. He slept in the kitchen. His name was Albert Lang. He was eleven, I think. The cobbler and his wife had no children. She had trouble with her glasses … most people didn’t wear any. They were handmade; they had to grind the glass. They were like magnifying glasses, in a frame on her nose …

“The cobbler was comparatively well off, though not wealthy. He was fifty-three when he died. The boy, Albert, was too young to take over the shop, and for a couple of years the village had no cobbler, and the boy was a fisherman. Then another cobbler came and Albert helped out in the shop again … He finally married. His wife’s name was also Sarah. She was a cousin of Sarah Wellington’s. Most of the people in the village were related in one way or another; they had no other place to go.”

I was quiet again. Rob didn’t know exactly what to do, so he just asked the first question that came into his head. “Were the people happy?”

“Well. I saw the … feet of a man. He was walking along a flat, dusty, reddish road. I think he was barefoot, though now I wonder about some kind of rudimentary sandal. He had a brownish, long robe flapping about the calves of his legs. The legs were thin.”

“What was his face like?” I asked.

Rob grinned. “I couldn’t see his head, shoulders, or even waist. The land was very flat — reds and browns. There was nothing in the far distance on the left, beyond the feet. For a moment, though, I thought I saw a group of pyramids far ahead on the horizon to the right. They were in cool brilliant color, blues or greens. I couldn’t see the bases of these, though, and I’m not even sure they were pyramids. But I saw the soles of the man’s feet, wrinkled and brown and, yes, without shoes, lifting after each stride. They were covered with dust.”