“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

There is a door within yourselves and you know that it exists. And you have your hand upon the knob. You will not get an electric shock when you touch it. You have merely to look within yourselves and open the door. You have merely to take some time for peace and quiet amid the objective activities of your day. There is nothing for you to fear behind that door. The both of you (Sally and Florence) hide fear behind different faces. Behind that door lies spontaneity and joy and understanding, and from these you have nothing to fear.

Now I have the serious faces. As our new friend would say, “Now we are getting down to the nitty-gritty.” This is your life, and your life, and your life, and not mine. While I can offer suggestions and impetus, there is no one that can open that door but yourself. You have found the door, you have beat aside the jungles of repressions (words lost) door.

Now that I have taken you all down a peg, remember, there is no grade behind that door. There is only freedom and strength and joy and vitality. I can poke your arm so that you move the knob a bit, but that is all that I can do. You can open the door and I am indeed sure that you will do so. I am also sure that a little talk like this will help you do so quicker. Now, I will cease, and whether or not I shall speak again this evening, who of you knows?

“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. [...]

The main issue was the relative ease with which you were able to enlarge the hole in the glass door. [...] 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. [...]

[...] 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. [...]

Now conventional religion requires tribute and so the men came to you at the door. [...] First of all, robbers come hooded and they do not come to front doors but to side doors and to doors not usually used. [...]

[...] He gave to these hooded robbers that came in at the side door. He did not give much, but he gave, and he gave because any religion must pay tribute to the inner knowledge of the self and the true inner knowledge does not come in through the front door. It comes in through the side door when you are least looking for it. [...]

Now in the same kind of a dream, say two years ago, you would not have opened the side door. [...] Now the house, to you, represents in one way, the seat of personality also, the inviolate place and you do not open the door to strangers or give them access into the secret self unless you feel that there is a good reason. [...]

The door is never closed. [...] No one closes the door but you. And no one makes you close the door—and no one can make you open the door though I can certainly try!! [...]

[...] You had better open that door yourself—or someday I will huff, and I will puff, and I will blow the door down—and then there will be a mighty panic! [...]

[...] You close the door to your own heritage when you do not look inward. [...]

[...] Wouldn’t you know it — the spring mechanism that governs the travel of the garage door broke as I was lowering the door, so that I couldn’t close it all the way. So when I got to 330 one of my first acts was to call Overhead Door and ask them to have someone check the garage door this afternoon, if possible. [...]

(During the last paragraph the fire alarm bell began sounding by the elevator door outside Jane’s room. [...]

[...] Also, the garage door had been fixed.)

[...] Some men, maybe police, come in and we hide in the shadows; a door beside is going to open so we get down and drag ourselves on our bellies to another door at the end of the room to hide in the shadows. [...] As we move toward door shadows, almost same, I see one woman carrying Rob’s landscape (the one in our bedroom) pushing it ahead of her. [...]

Therefore, I want you to imagine in your mind Alpha II and a door that has been closed and that now opens. It is an adjacent door. [...] You may see different signs and pictures in your mind, individually, as you open this door, for there will be different meanings here for each of you. But I want you to see yourselves opening that door and walking through. [...]

[...] You are in the habit of blocking out, and you are now learning to accept them; to open up your perceptions; to open doors that have been closed. [...]

Beyond that door are realities of which you have always known and people with whom you have always been acquainted. [...]

[...] I realized that while lying on my back with my head turned a bit to the right, I was definitely looking to my left, at the top of a plain, solid wooden door to a room — and that my viewpoint was up, just above the top of the door in its frame, which was close to a low ceiling. The door was dark on my side, and was open toward me perhaps three inches at the most.

“Now behind the door was a brilliant pulsing light — but I could see only the small portion of it at the top of the nearly-shut door. [...]

[...] And it’s obvious that in tonight’s little adventure I had once again cleverly protected myself from confronting the full creative blast of the light of the universe by allowing myself just a peek at it, and a careful one at that, at the top of a door. [...]

outside of my door,

screen door, and there are

[...] I remember finding the door, which was very heavy and thick, slightly ajar. This was accounted for to our satisfaction at the time of our second visit; trying to shoot the bolt from inside the porch, Jane and I found we had to exert considerable pressure against the door in order to line the bolt up with the door frame; and once shut the door was exceedingly sturdy. If Jane and I used psychic strength to open this door, it can be safely stated that the force required and exerted was considerable.)

(We found the front door locked and bolted, then spent a few minutes looking around the front half of the place, and admiring the view. It then occurred to me to walk around back to see if the back door was also locked. [...] And we did find the back porch door open. [...]

(I had heard a door slam next door, since it was a nice night and our living room windows were open. [...]

[...] In order to keep our cat, Willy, off our bed at night, we put him in the living room and close the door on that side of the bathroom. Now I found myself hanging in front of that door, unable to penetrate it.

[...] The closed door was in deep shadow, but I knew I was before it. [...] I didn’t realize that I was projecting at first — I didn’t have the presence of mind, say, to order myself to burst through the door into the living room. [...]

[...] I believe my ordinary conscious ideas that doors can’t be penetrated held me back, though. I fell asleep again briefly after encountering the impasse posed by the closed door. [...]

[...] Then I answered the door. Two neighbors from the house next door stood grinning at us. [...]

(I would estimate the session ended at 11:20 PM, with the knock on the door. [...] When I saw who was at the door I had visions of long complicated explanations, but the self-hypnosis explanation appeared to satisfy them. [...]

[...] As Seth was speaking a knock came at our door. [...]

[...] I opened one of the two doors and made notes; thus, the students and Jane were not disturbed on the other side of the remaining closed door. [...]

[...] When the session began I was at work in my studio at the back of the apartment; yet, through two closed doors, I heard almost at once when the session began. [...]

[...] I opened one of the two doors and made notes; thus the students and Jane were not disturbed on the other side of the remaining closed door. [...]

[...] When the session began I was at work in my studio at the back of the apartment; yet, through two closed doors, I heard almost at once when the session began. [...]

[...] A dark wooden door. A letter leaves this door. [...] The object came from that door. [...]

The door, the door from which she emerged after sending the telegram. [...]

[...] She cannot remember the door.

If you consider the conscious mind that you know as one door, this is the door through which you usually walk. You stand at the threshold of this door and look into physical reality. But there are other doors—you have other conscious selves. [...]

It is true that for a moment when you close one conscious door, the door with which you are familiar, there is an instant perhaps before you open another shade and use another portion of your conscious mind to look into other realities...and you may momentarily feel disorientation. [...]

[...] Practically speaking, you must close one door before you can open another. [...]

At about 12:45 PM an officer from the West Elmira Police came to the back door. [...]

[...] So as I wondered about the day it all happened, Fred was turned loose in town, and might have indeed turned up at our door. [...]

[...] As to a front door precisely in the center of a front room, Lorraine was not sure. [...] If one looked at the front of the house from the outside, he would see a single door in front, in the center of the house; but this was a door opening into a hallway, with apartments opening off on either side, and thus would not be in the middle of a front room.

[...] The door was in the center. However, my viewpoint is not precise enough perhaps, but I have the picture of a door precisely centered, leading outward. [...]

[...] It will be remembered that a young couple from next door heard Seth, and came over to see if anything was wrong. [...]

(To Dee G.) There are two small doors here, and you do not need them. [...]

([Dee G:] “Doors?”)

Doors. [...]

[...] Because of the conventional ranch-style floor plan of the hill house, our bedroom is isolated from the front and back doors; we reach it at the end of a hall opening off the living room. We had no door at the entrance to the hall. A blaze anywhere in the central section of the house, with its heat, gas, and smoke, could easily prevent me from reaching the front or back door as I sought to carry Jane to safety. [...]

[...] With more than a little wry humor over what I considered to be a failure of belief on my part, I took action: Late in July I had a contractor, who is a friend of ours and well acquainted with Jane’s situation, install a heavy outside door in a bedroom wall, and construct the necessary step to the ground. He also hung another heavy door at the living-room entrance to the hall; we’re to keep that one closed at night. [...]