“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Now: I want to begin by mentioning one of the most important and vital messages in your glass-door dream (of two days ago),¹for its truth applies to the magical approach as well.

The main issue was the relative ease with which you were able to enlarge the hole in the glass door. Ease is the key word. To the world of the intellect, a glass door must be considered solid, as it is in the world of physical senses. In other quite as factual terms, indeed in the larger framework of facts, the door of course is not solid at all, as no objects are. Obviously that is known to science.

Now in your dream, you were quite clearly seeing the threshold between physical reality and the magical dimension in which that physical reality has its source. You were being shown — or showing yourself — the difference in the rules or assumptions between the two. The dog’s desire for food led him to walk magically through the door, for the desires of the natural creature are satisfied (pause) with an ease that has nothing to do with your ideas of work. What I am getting at is the introduction of the concepts of a different kind of work — very valuable, vital work that is performed at another level and in a different fashion.

This will allow you to include the feeling of inner, magical “work” into your calculations. It would also begin (underlined) to give you a feeling for the magical support that upholds you both, and your lives — the support that Ruburt can count upon, and that can bring about the solution to his physical difficulties. Here, again, the vital word is ease or effortlessness. If you want to (long pause) feed a dog in the physical world — and he is on the other side of the door — you must open it. In the inner world you or the dog can walk through the door without effort, because desire is action. Desire is action.

“I dreamed that I was in the kitchen of the hill house, in Elmira, crouched down just inside the room’s glass storm door, which was closed. The kitchen’s inside wooden door was wide open, just to my left. Gus, the friendly old Shetland sheepdog who belonged to our neighbors across the street, came up to the storm door, looking for the handful of dry food I give him each morning when I scatter birdseed in the driveway. Gus was on the other side of the door, on the screened-in back porch, as he should be — only then I saw to my amazement that he was starting to walk through the glass panel in his eagerness to get to the food. I felt his head pushing effortlessly through the glass, and exclaimed about this to Jane, who sat at her usual place at the breakfast table just in back of me. I was really surprised. I had my hands on Gus’s head as he sought to enter the kitchen through the glass.

“After the Gus part of the dream, I saw through the glass door a man standing quite at military attention. He was older, graying, impeccably dressed in the dark blue uniform of an officer of the Navy. He was handsome and tall and slim. He looked something like the blue male I’m painting from a recent dream, although that one is in civilian clothes. There’s a resemblance between the two, but I’m not particularly claiming that the officer is the civilian. I only want to note that this would make the second instance recently in which I might have had the same character appear in separate dreams.

“The Navy man never came through the door like Gus had, though, nor did he speak to me or move. He simply stood at attention on the porch, symbolizing I don’t know what. He was an officer of considerable rank, with a number of stripes on his cuffs. Perhaps the equivalent of an army colonel.

“The dream takes place in the kitchen, a room devoted to physical nourishment. Gus, the neighbors’ dog, in an intense desire to get the food Rob holds, walks right through the glass door — signifying the importance of desire in bringing about the magical satisfaction of needs. Gus probably also represents the ‘creature’ magical self, showing its creature characteristics; that it’s natural, after all.

Robert F. Butts (1919 –): My Glass-Door Dream. 1980. Oil on panel, 13 x 11 in.