“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

The value climate of psychological reality can be likened to an ocean in which all consciousness has its being. There are multitudinous levels that can be plunged into, with various life forms, diverse and alien, but nevertheless interconnected and dependent one upon the other. I like the ocean analogy because you get the idea of continuous flow and motion without apparent division.

As temperatures in various depths of ocean change, and as even the color of the water and of the flora and fauna change, so too in our value climate there are quality changes, and senses equipped to project and perceive the changes. There are distortions because of the limitations of the outer senses, but the inner senses¹ do not distort. The inner senses inhabit directly the atmosphere of our value climate; they see through the ever-varying camouflage (physical) patterns, and the flux and flow of apparent change. To some small degree in our sessions you plunge into this ocean of value climate, and to the extent that you are able to divest yourselves of the clothes of camouflage, you can be truly aware of this climate.

What is required is more than a shedding of clothes, however. To plunge into this ocean you also leave the physical body at the shore. It will be there when you get back. Your camouflage patterns can be likened to those cast by sun and shadow upon the ever-moving waves. As long as you keep the pattern in mind, you create it, and it is there. If you turn your head away for a moment and then look quickly back you can see only the wave. Your camouflage and your world are created by conscious focusing and unconscious concentration. Only by turning your head aside momentarily can you see what is beneath the seemingly solid pattern. By plunging into our ocean of value climate you can dive beneath your camouflage system and look up to see it, relatively foundationless, floating above you, moved, formed, and directed by the shifting illusions caused by the wind of will, and the force of subconscious concentration and demand.

[...] No idea how or why, but a large multitude of people including myself have come to the ocean shore. [...] Another person says something I’ve forgotten to the idea that… the ocean water or sky, … were dangerous or maybe that it was lightening, but I dismiss this, stand in the bathtub and the water is great, hot and soapy. [...]

[...] The sea is dangerous if you are in the middle of the ocean without a boat. If you are on a fine liner, however, with all conveniences, then the ocean becomes an enjoyable adventure.

[...] You would not help anyone by jumping off of the liner to see whether or not the ocean was in fact dangerous without a boat. [...]

[...] Part of consciousness, then, transformed itself into what you think of as nature—the vast sweep of the continents, the oceans and the rivers, the mountains and the valleys, the body of the land. [...]

[...] And in a matter of speaking, again, man becomes the earth thinking, and thinking his own thoughts, man in his way specializes in the conscious work of the world—a work that is dependent upon the indispensable “unconscious” work of the rest of nature, a nature that sustains him (all very intently). And when he thinks, man thinks for the microbes, for the atoms and the molecules, for the smallest particles within his being, for the insects and for the rocks, for the creatures of the sky and the air and the oceans.

Country far away, ocean.

(“In what country across the ocean?”)

“In brilliant, limpid color: I dreamed that a ship—a freighter colored a warm gray and a rust-red-orange—sank in the ocean. [...] I watched the ship sink on an even keel through the blue-green water to the smooth yellow and tan and brown sandy ocean floor—but instead of settling motionless there the ship began to ‘sail’ or plow its way across the ocean bottom, almost as though it were a car moving along a road. [...] I saw no people or fish—just the ship, the ocean, and its floor, which was free of obstacles to the ship’s easy passage. [...]

[...] The psyche forms events in the same way that the ocean forms waves — except that the ocean’s waves are confined to its surface or to its basin, while the psyche’s events are instantly translated, and splash out into mass psychological reality. [...]

The value climate of psychological reality can be likened to an ocean in which all consciousness has its being. [...] I like the ocean analogy because you get the idea of continuous flow and motion without apparent division.

As temperatures in various depths of ocean change, and as even the color of the water and of the flora and fauna change, so too in our value climate there are quality changes, and senses equipped to project and perceive the changes. [...] In our sessions to some small degree you plunge into this ocean of value climate, and to the extent that you are able to divest yourselves of the clothes of camouflage, to that extent can you truly be aware of this climate.

[...] To plunge into this ocean you also leave the physical body at the shore. [...] By plunging into our ocean of value climate you can dive beneath your camouflage system and look up to see it, relatively foundationless, floating above you, moved, formed and directed by the shifting illusions caused by the wind of will, and the force of subconscious concentration and demand.

And beyond that, the ocean or bay.

(“The ocean or bay was directly across the road.”)

[...] B.C.] described how the fabled island continent of Atlantis sank beneath the ocean west of the Pillars of Hercules — the Strait of Gibraltar — some 12,000 years previously. [...]

[...] A larger body of water, the ocean for example, is fine. [...]

[...] The oceans rise and fall also, and in some cases the floor of the ocean becomes the surface of the planet, only to be covered again by water. [...]

(Pause at 9:43.) In the physical world, islands, valleys, plateaus, continents and oceans all have their place, and serve to form the physical basis of your reality. [...]

(All distortions and ugly images are now washed away by the infinite ocean of love and peace flowing through her, and it is so.

[...] M I or MY and a word that sounds like ocean, or M E O plus a C sound and a word that sounds like ocean. [...]

[...] “A connection with water” can be our Elmira, New York address, 458 W. Water Street, or that both Ormond Beach and Daytona Beach, Florida, are on the ocean.

(A later addition by Jane: “I’d say it was referring to the return address—Ormond Beach on the ocean.”

([Tam:] “Like the ocean image spread out underneath me?”)

[...] A scuba diver, for instance, explores what he finds on the ocean floor and brings us clues from this vast, submerged area. [...] But if he goes far enough, the scuba diver must somewhere come to the bottom of the ocean, and I don’t believe there is any bottom or boundary to this inner reality. [...]

[...] It is, perhaps, the same sort of trust we have when we dive into the ocean — the faith that we won’t sink. [...]

[...] She was not sure in the image, that she was near an ocean, particularly. [...]

[...] He interpreted this however in his own way, as saltwater, and the photograph was taken by the ocean, with rocks and sand, and the sand, you see, was picked up because of the grains.

[...] No matter how far you journey — on a motorcycle, in a car or plane, or on foot — (gesturing to me as Seth, Jane then changed the sentence) by bicycle or camel, or truck or vessel, still you are the wanderer, and the land or ocean or desert is the environment through which you roam. [...] You form the roads, your method of travel, the hills or mountains or oceans, as well as the hills, farms, and villages of the self, or of the psyche, as you go along.

Such a person might imagine his or her anger or fury filling up the inside of a gigantic balloon that is then pricked by a needle, exploding in pieces from the pressure within, with debris falling everywhere — out over the ocean, or caught up by the wind, but in any case dispersed in whatever way seems agreeable to the patient.