“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

I came to the defense of Ned and the poor fish and of Ned, the poor fish. Our Ned chose a fish, subconsciously, for many reasons. First of all, the fish was a part of himself that he materialized within the dream state. It represented, to him, something quite different than the Christian fish you wear around your neck (to Joel).

([Joel:] “We appear quite vulnerable though. I was thinking of the fish again. When you say the lilies of the field may, lose a leaf or two, but still have a great deal of protection, I was wondering had Ned’s fish, perhaps. In his case it was only an image, but in my case, suppose I had a probable fish. Now what kind of protection would that fish have had against my violent acts?”)

The dream served several purposes. It allowed him to release aggression in a much less violent manner than he would have in the past. It also, however, allowed him to see the picture of his own aggression as it existed on a subconscious level of his mind. The aggression that he feared was not so great and big and powerful and black and hairy and threatening as he thought. Instead, it was a part of himself and very small, fish size, you see, and easy to squash and kick. It was not this giant that you feared, and it was easy to rid yourself of this. Now, in this case, the fish was not a probable fish in another reality. It was a portion, however, of his own energy.

[...] I don’t know what kind of fish it was, but they had piles of it on a good day. Blackish fish, some of it only a few inches long, some much longer, averaging maybe a foot in length. Yes, they had fish all year long, it wasn’t seasonal. [...] They didn’t farm too much because the ground was poor and rocky and very hilly, so they depended on the fish.

[...] Something to do with fishing nets. [...]

(The fish were mackerel.

Something to do with fish and another journey.

([The Gallaghers:] “We passed and noticed several fish markets.”)

We like to think
that chance alone
collected the pieces of
the world,
stitching together the
continents,
turning the dumb elements
into fish and fowl,
and you and me, finally.

Producing
from it’s magical bag
of tricks,
one marvelous form
of life after another,
fish,
bird,
monkey,
man
(not just one dove
or rabbit)
with a skill and swiftness
so astute
that our wise men think
one turns into the other!

Juggling a
million million
atoms
all at once,
spinning them into
twirling cells of men
and whales,
tricky,
spinning solid mountains
from thin air,
with fish transformed
into flying birds —

“The fishermen had plain wooden boats and piles of fish on a good day. Black fish, some of them only a few inches long, some much longer, averaging maybe a foot in length. There was fishing all year long. [...] They didn’t farm too much because the ground was poor and rocky, very hilly; so they depended on fish.”

[...] “Something Sarah’s father bartered for the shoes… something to do with fishing nets. [...]

[...] There was just enough room for the little boats to go out for fish …”

[...] Birds were birds, and fish fish.

[...] How many fish died with only half-formed lungs, who were too far from the water’s edge to dip again beneath the waves? (More intently now:) Or how many fish flopped backward to the water, finding themselves in such an in-between stage that they could no longer live in the water nor breathe the air?

You are filled with questions about when and where the various species appeared, and how the rocks were formed, when some reptiles grew wings, when some fish emerged from the oceans and learned to breathe air, and you are bound to wonder what happened in the times in between.

[...] Then you can find out what fish you have hooked through it. [...]

(“I’ll bet the fish is a big one.”)

This surface is the home of a rather unusual variety of, I presume you say, fish. But they are different than the fish near the surface, and there is algae here that exudes nitrogen, which is not usual.

[...] For that matter, insects, birds, fish, and all kinds of life play. [...]

[...] They are embedded in the life of insects, and in fish and fowl. [...]

[...] But as a fish swims through water, but the fish is not the water, I am not Ruburt’s subconscious.

[...] All of the larger divisions of life—the mammals, fish, birds, and so forth—are an integral part of that living gridwork. [...]

[...] The large classifications of mammals, fish, birds, men, reptiles, plants, and so forth, are [each] an integral part of that larger perceptive pattern—and that pattern (underlined) in those terms had to be complete even in the beginning of your time.

A small fish of some sort.

[...] Now the fish impression mentioned earlier may also be connected with the symbols on this object. [...]

[...] Something to do with fish, and another journey. [...]

[...] This has to do with the difficulty in buying groceries, the fish being an act of denial, you see.

[...] Plants and insects fit into this larger picture, as do all fish and fowl.

[...] Like fish, they can swim to other streams. [...]

[...] They go out of their way to help other species, and yet they do not take pets (softly, staring at me). There were also, however, many varieties of water-dwelling mammals — some combining the human with the fish, though roughly along the lines of a combination chimpanzee-fish type, hyphen. [...]

[...] He thinks my friend a cold fish (humorously) but then, he was never a fin.