“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Even as Ruburt looks out the window, seemingly through empty space at the street, the so-called space simply is not empty, though through the specialized camouflage senses it may appear to be empty. Your outer senses merely equip you to perceive your own camouflage, but to others your camouflage may in some cases appear as empty space, while what is empty to you is filled with activity for them.

You think of space as an emptiness to be filled because on your plane you fill what you call space with camouflage patterns. And I repeat: instead true space, fifth dimensional space, is the vitality and stuff of all existence itself, vital and alive, from which all other existences are woven through means which I have outlined so far in a rather sketchy fashion. Even on your plane quality, which represents a kind of expansion, does not necessarily imply an expansion of space. The universe expands continually in a qualitative manner that has nothing to do with space as it is usually envisioned. And the expansion is more vivid and valid than I can possibly explain to you at this time.

The most full operation of the inner senses is possible only in this climate. There is so much here that I am impatient to tell you, and so little that you can understand now. Conceptions explode into being, evolve, change into something else, and yet all this within a framework that is definite but cannot be seen or touched by you, the psychological expansion even of atoms and molecules that in themselves contain condensed comprehensions beyond your understanding. The stuff of the universe is not inanimate, nor even on your plane is it an emptiness to be filled, but constantly expanding in ways that you cannot yet fathom.

It is obvious that you impress a room with your characteristics as you furnish it, but you also mark (long pause) what seems to be empty space in the same fashion — that is, you turn empty space into the living matter of your body without ever realizing that you do so. [...]

[...] I noticed later in the afternoon that the old room we used to have, 331, next door, is empty. I also think the room on the other side of us is empty. [...]

[...] At 4:30 I rang for an aide, since the medicine bag was empty on its pole at the head of Jane’s bed. [...]

[...] Carla came in with the supper tray, and we told her about the medicine bag being empty. [...]

Now the plain was empty. [...] The plain was empty because it was the repository of ideas. [...]

[...] To the right people were leaving the plains of sand, yet the plain itself was empty, filled only with the messages that were written there.

There was no empty space, no new road, only the way before you both, that would necessitate your treading upon these jottings and transposing your footsteps over those that were there.

[...] See now the empty plain, as a scooped-out and hollow place from which the water has fled. [...]

[...] I looked up the rather empty and depressing street a few doors to an evidently empty storefront with big gray-colored plate glass windows. There was an indistinct male personage or figure on the sidewalk before me, passing the empty storefront. [...]

[...] My stomach felt empty or gone, my arms and hands elevated. [...]

(The object for the 72nd envelope experiment was an empty envelope, as shown. [...]

[...] The empty envelope used as object was mailed to me last May 26,1966, by an old friend, Wendell Crowley, and contained a letter detailing a reunion of a group of friends, all artists, that Wendell and I worked with in 1941-43. [...]

[...] Instead the empty envelope from Wendell serves as a springboard. [...]

[...] The number 4 appears three times on the empty envelope object. [...]

[...] Look where space seems empty, and listen in the middle of silence. There are molecular structures in every inch of empty space, but you have taught yourself not to perceive them. [...]

(Front of the empty envelope used as the object in the 290th session, the 72nd experiment, for October 3, 1966.)

(Back of the empty envelope.)

(On May 28, a nurse in hydro dropped an empty pan on Jane’s left instep, making one of those depression cuts in the flesh. [...]

(“The impression of an empty area, perhaps with a border.” There is such a comparatively large empty rectangular area at the bottom of the object on the back: a boxed-in area for a price to be inserted. [...]

The impression of an empty area, perhaps with a border.

[...] I’d looked in while passing this noon; her bed had been empty, although two people had sat in the room talking.

[...] The apparent emptiness of outer space is far from empty, but these are not necessarily worlds that you could visit with the most advanced imaginable spaceship.

[...] The paper was empty. [...] Earlier he had held it even though it was empty.

[...] I was aware though Seth didn’t say so, that the last seats were usually empty.

[...] Judy emptied Jane’s Foley, or catheter bag, Dorothy took her blood pressure and pulse, and Carla her temperature — 98.2. I did some more mail until Jane said she was ready for a session. [...]

[...] Empty houses are psychic vacancies that yearn to be filled. [...]

[...] As though on signal, the aide came in to empty Jane’s Foley, and we explained our idea to her. [...]

[...] My stomach felt empty. [...]

[...] My stomach felt empty. [...]

[...] And the dark corner will seem to you that only desolation exists, and you will look into the faces of your fellow men and find only emptiness. [...] You will see that they see meaning, but you will not experience their meaning, and so their faces may seem empty to you, and you will look outward into the world and find no meaning in it, only desolation and cruelty. [...]