“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Emotions simply are. They are elements of the power of consciousness, filled with energy. They merge into a powerful sea of being when left alone. You cannot affirm one emotion and deny another without setting up barriers. You try to hide what you think of as negative feelings in the closet of your mind, as in the past they closeted insane relatives. All of this because you do not trust the aspects of your individuality in flesh.

What magicians we all are,
turning darkness into light,
transforming invisible atoms
into the dazzling theater
of the world,
pulling objects,
(people as well
as rabbits)
out of secret
microscopic closets,
turning winter into summer,
making a palmful of moments
disappear through time’s trap door.

AM: we get up at 6 so the men can get up to the attic to work through the bedroom closet; R. Reads chapter 2 of James; my body continues its stuff.

[...] Here you are not to hide within the closet of 3 dimensionality and cry, “It is dark and I cannot see!” And refuse to use the inner light that can alone aid your vision.

[...] Here you are not to hide within the closet of three-dimensionality and cry, “It is dark and I cannot see!” and refuse to use the inner light that can alone aid your vision. [...]

[...] We were getting ready to begin, and Willie was sleeping in the bedroom closet. Suddenly he ran out of the closet, fur on end, bolted through the living room, and hid behind the curtains. [...]

[...] We have a lovely large apartment that has, unfortunately, a tiny closet-sized kitchen. [...]

[...] The room was really far too large for a closet, though small enough for a normal room. She hadn’t known what to use it for, and so she’d finally turned it into a closet.

[...] The other said my description seemed to apply to those in his bathroom linen closet. [...] The closet was right inside the door, and a jut in the wall blocked vision of the rest of the room. [...]

[...] One night while experimenting in the dream state, for example, I found myself standing in a room about the size of our bedroom, but it was obviously being used as a closet. [...]

A connection with a closet. [...]

(“Can you elaborate upon the closet data?”)

(“A connection with a closet. [...]

(2nd Question: “Can you elaborate upon the closet data?” “Ruburt thinks of your mother’s sewing room. [...]

[...] In the dream the women hang out clothes in the yard … and Anna showed me the children’s closet at school, commenting on clothes. [...] I think I’d known the name all the while and in the dream translated it into action; the clothes episode would, then, really identify Anna and forsee the event in which she showed me the clothes closet.

[...] Later, in a free period, she showed me her first-grade classroom, specifically pointing out the closet and mentioning the difficulty involved in helping the children hang up their clothes.

[...] Willy was sleeping in the closet. All was quiet when suddenly Willy burst out of the closet in a mad scramble, his nails sliding on the bare floor. [...]

[...] These fears are closeted on an individual basis, and those people who express them socially are imprisoned. The enforced incarceration of violent men often leads to a riot, and the private closeting of normal aggression often brings psychological rioting and outbursts of physical symptoms.

[...] In the matter of the disease called AIDS, for example, you have groups of homosexuals, many “coming out of the closet” for the first time, taking part in organizations that promote their cause, and suddenly faced by the suspicions and distrust of many other portions of the population.

[...] With the light on the room divider on, or the closet light on, the illumination was enhanced. Jane said that after careful thought she felt the closet light was also on during the break at 9:56. [...]

In dreams you are so “insane” that you do not feel yourself locked in a closet of time and space, but feel instead as if all infinity but waited your beckoning.

[...] There is a package wrapped in brown paper in the closet of 330, that I’m not supposed to touch. [...]

[...] The supporting easel I’d made for her to use in reading, sits in the closet of 330. [...]

You cannot find your psyche by thinking of it as a separate thing, like a fine jewel in an eternal closet. [...]

[...] “When you get home,” I added, “we’ll throw away all of your old clothes in the closet and buy new ones.” [...]

Today was a day in which feelings became conscious and pervaded the emotional air, as if the mustiness from a suddenly opened closet door spread out into the living room. [...]

[...] Once more I put him in the closet while Jane gave me an “oh, well” look. [...]