“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

As you wonder, more astonished still, you discover other coral paths extending from you in all directions. These lead to further islands. “They are all me,” you think, though each is very different. One may have no trees at all, and another be the home of a volcano. Some may be filled with soft grasses, innocent of sand.

Its neighbor responds: “I know. You are me without my towering volcano, ignorant of the thundering magic of flowing lava, calm and rather stupid (emphatically), if the truth be known.”

The second island-spirit says, also to the third: “You are myself, only my excitement, my joy and beauty, are concentrated in the magic of my volcano, and you instead stand for the twittering excitement of diverse species — birds and animals and insects — that flow in far less grandiose fashion across the slopes of your uneasy land.”

The second island says: “Suppose my spirit visits your island for a while, to discover what it is like to possess palm trees, a few birds, and a tranquil shore. I will give up my volcano for a while, and try to make an honest evaluation, if you will in turn come to my land and promise to view it without prejudice. Perhaps then you will understand the great majesty and explosive power of my exotic world.”

The spirit of the first island visits the second one, and finds itself amazed. It feels an ever-thrusting power, rushing up from beneath, that erupts in always-changing form. Yet it is always itself, comparing its experience to what it has known. When the volcano itself, ceaselessly erupting, wishes for peace, the spirit of the first island thinks of its own quiet home shores. The volcano learns a new lesson: It can direct its power in whatever way it chooses, shooting upward or lying quietly. It can indeed be dormant and dream for centuries. (Slowly now:) It can, if it chooses, allow soft sands to lie gracefully upon its cooling expanse.

(Heartily:) What a transformation! Its volcano, it finds, now gives birth to soil and pollen, its excitement roused in a million different ways. It meets the spirit of the first island that has been living there, and says: “What a change! I would like a still more spectacular display. The flowers are not nearly colorful or wild enough. It is, if you will forgive me, too well-tamed — yet all in all you’ve done wonders. Now, however, I’d like a cultural interchange with others still unknown; and if you don’t mind I wish you’d go home. (Whispering:) This is, after all, me, and my land.”

In the meantime, the spirit of the desert island is almost overwhelmed by the teeming life forms on Island Three, so next it visits the volcanic one; and when the volcano becomes frightened of its own energy the spirit of the desert island says: “Peace. It is all right to sleep, all right to dream. You do not need to be so worried for your energy. It can flow swiftly, or slowly, in surges of dreams that take ages. Do as you will.”

So the volcano throws its energy into the formation of still more new species, while the desert spirit sings its calmness through their tissues. But this new life confounds it also, and it yearns to return home to its old quietude. There, the spirit of the third island has quickened the desert’s abilities so that it blooms with muted flowers not present before. The two spirits meet. Each island is changed. “We are counterparts, each of the other, yet inviolate.”

And the spirit of the volcanic island says to the spirit of the first island: “My volcano knows, now, how best to use its energy. It can shoot into the heavens in great displays, or creep into the tiny crevices of earth, equally powerful.”