“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

The unknown reality is your psychic, spiritual, and psychological one, and from it your physical experience springs.¹

Let us go back approximately two months in your time. Ruburt and Joseph were looking for a house. They had already seen one on the inside, as mentioned earlier in “Unknown” Reality.³ This manuscript, for that matter, was begun precisely at the point in time that Ruburt’s and Joseph’s latest adventure with probabilities began. Two months ago, however, they were attracted to “the Foster Avenue house,” as they called it (change the name if you want to). They drove past it often, and went inside. Ruburt imagined his classes being held there. Imaginatively both Ruburt and Joseph saw themselves living there, and a certain amount of psychic energy was projected into that house.

In a probable reality, a Ruburt and a Joseph now live there. In the world that you recognize as official, however, they moved into the hill house. To some extent both of them are aware of the inner processes involved in the final decision. I do not mean that they are simply familiar with the exterior thought processes involved, such as: “The hill house is better constructed,” or “It has a fine view.” I am speaking of deeper mechanisms of consideration (pause), in which correlations are made between interior and exterior realities. (Pause.) It is obvious that when you move from one place to another you make an alteration in space — but you alter time as well, and you set into motion a certain psychological impetus that reaches out to affect everyone you know. (Long pause.) When a house is vacant all of the people in the neighborhood send out their own messages. To a certain extent any given inhabited area forms its own “entity.” This applies to the smallest neighborhood⁴ and to the greatest nation. Such messages are often encountered in the dream state. Empty houses are psychic vacancies that yearn to be filled. When you move, you move into other portions of your own selfhood.⁵

(10:59.) Give us a moment … (Jane, in trance, lit a cigarette. ) Your ideas of Atlantis are partially composed of future memories. They are psychic yearnings toward the ideal civilization — patterns within the psyche, even as each fetus has within it the picture of its own most ideal fulfillment toward which it grows.

Atlantis is a land that you want to inhabit, appearing in your literature, your dreams, and your fantasies,⁸ serving as an impetus for development. It is real and valid. In your terms it is not “yet” physical fact, but in some ways it is more real than any physical fact, for it is a psychic blueprint.⁹

(I read to Jane the few paragraphs of material Seth had given on Atlantis. Both of us thought it quite sensible, although it brought up questions I’ll get to shortly. I’ll have to admit that we cringe a bit when Seth talks about cultish concepts like Atlantis. We always think that such beliefs, while serving a variety of quite legitimate creative and psychic purposes, are very likely to be more mythic than physically factual. The word “physically” is important here. From these remarks it’s easy to see that we feel much more comfortable with the ideas about Atlantis that Seth advanced in this session. “He’s got more on it, too,” Jane said now, but she didn’t go back into trance.