“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

These units—let us discuss them as they are related to a rock. The rock is composed of atoms and molecules, each with their own consciousness. This forms a gestalt rock consciousness. These units are sent out indiscriminately by the various atoms and molecules, but portions of them are also directed by the overall rock consciousness. The units are sent out by the rock, informing the rock as to the nature of its changing environment: the angle of the sun and temperature changes, for example, as night falls; and even in the case of a rock, they change as the rock’s loosely called emotional tone changes. As the units change, they alter the air about them which is the result of their own activity.

These emanations rise as naturally as breath, and there are other comparisons that can be made, in that there is a coming in and a going out, and transformation within the unit, as what is taken into the lungs, for example, is not the same thing that leaves on the exhale stroke. You could compare these units, simply for an analogy, to the invisible breath of consciousness. This analogy will not carry us far, but it will be enough initially to get the idea across. Breath is, of course, also a pulsation, and these units operate in a pulsating manner. They are emitted by the cells, for example, in plants, animals, rocks, and so forth. They would have color if you were able to perceive them physically.

They constantly emanate out from the rock and return to it in a motion so swift it would seem simultaneous. The units meet with, and to some extent merge with, other units sent out, say, from foliage and all other objects. There is a constant blending, and also attraction and repulsion.

These units are sent out indiscriminately by the various atoms and molecules, but portions of them are also directed by the overall rock consciousness. The units are sent out then from the rock, informing the rock as to the nature of its changing environment, the angle of the sun, and temperature changes for example as night falls; and even in the case of a rock, they change as the rock’s loosely called emotional tone changes. [...]

These units—let us discuss them as they are related, for example, to a rock. The rock is composed of atoms and molecules each with their own consciousness. This forms a gestalt-rock-consciousness.

[...] They are emitted by the cells, for example, in plants, animals, rocks, and so forth.

They constantly emanate out from the rock and return to it, in a motion so swift it would seem simultaneous. [...]

A mountain is composed of many layers of rock that serve, as you think of it, as its foundation. The top of the mountain represents the present to you, and the tiers of rock beneath stand for the past. The mountain itself is not any one of those rock layers that seemingly compose it, however. [...] You can examine the various levels of rock structure. [...] The rocks themselves still exist in the geologists’ present time, or they could not make such an examination. [...] Again, however, it is not any one of those rock layers.

An archaeologist or a geologist examining “old” rock strata will find dead fossils, just as from your viewpoint you will discover “dead” past lives as you look “downward” through your psyche. You will seem to view finished reincarnational existences, even as from his present the geologist will discover only inanimate fossils embedded in rock. [...]

Now: In somewhat the same manner, the self that you know is the mountain, and the rock layers forming it are past lives.

[...] They exist simultaneously with your own life, even as the strata of rock exist simultaneously with the mountain.

The play of sunlight or shadow upon any given rock may utterly escape you.⁵ You will simply pass it by under the category of “rock.” In the dream state you might find yourself sleeping on a sunwarmed rock, or climbing on icy ones. You might feel yourself encased in a rock, with your consciousness dispersed. You might have any number of different experiences involving rocks, all quite liberating. After such an experience you might look at rocks in an entirely different fashion, and see them in ways that escape your language. Rocks give forth sounds that you do not hear, for example, yet your language automatically limits your perception of what any rock is. [...]

[...] You might know the word for “rock” for instance. Knowing the word might actually prevent you from seeing any specific rock clearly as it is, or recognizing how it is different from all other rocks.

With this verandah sticking out with some rocks beneath.

(“There were rocks near the verandah.”)

Right at the shore, perhaps down and ahead, a scooped out circular indentation, where there is swift current because of rocks—

[...] No beach here near these rocks [and indentation].)

[...] It is composed of rocks and trees, grass and hills, and in your terms of time you can look at it, see it as such, give it a name, and ignore its equally independent parts. [...] It is not invaded by the trees or rocks that compose it, and while trees grow and die the mountain itself, at least in your terms of time, exists despite the changes. [...]

[...] Yet that identity is composed of other identities, each independent, as the mountain is composed of its rocks and could not exist without them, even while it rises up so grandly above the plain. [...] I do not feel invaded by the selves or identities that compose me, nor do they feel invaded by me — any more than the trees, rocks, and grass would resent the mountain shape (intently) into which they have grown.

Physically speaking, and generally, your body is composed of grasses and ants and rocks and beasts and birds, for in one way or another all biological matter is related.⁹ In certain terms, through your experience, birds and rocks speak alphabets — and certain portions of your own being fly or creep as birds or insects,¹⁰ forming the great gestalt of physical experience. [...]

8. Strange — but recently I visually approached the idea of interrelated consciousnesses in two pen-and-ink drawings for Jane’s book of poetry, Dialogues of the Soul and Mortal Self in Time: I incorporated humanoid features on large rocks. [...] But so are we — and might not both rock and human also respond to a uniting psychological weather?

there is no corner of a rock

or a rock

[...] we shall give the impression of a rock or stone that can be held in the hand, that has a connection with the water, that is speckled, and gray, with an indentation on it... [...]

[...] He now told me that the rock or stone impression was his error, and not Jane’s, or Ruburt’s.

[...] He picked up accurately enough that the test object could be held in the hand, had a connection with water and an indentation—the opening in the teapot—but erred in the rock or stone terminology, the color and the word nondescript. [...]

[...] This verandah sticking out, with some rocks beneath, and beyond that the ocean or bay.

Right at the shore, perhaps directly down and ahead, a scooped-out circular (gesture) indention, where there is swift current because of rocks. [...]

[...] Later Jane was to say she was seeing this within, while yet being aware of still sitting in her chair.) Then the street curves again to the left, and beneath it are rocks—that is, a rocky ledge down to the sea, I believe.

[...] However she was still aware that she sat in a rocking chair; she wasn’t floating along the road in Nassau, fully separated from her physical body.

(“Something stands on rocks. [...] Here Jane had an image—that of her face, small, as she stood on some rocks and near water. [...]

[...] Something stands on rocks. [...]

[...] 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.

So to rocks, say, you can be considered a portion of their environment, while you may consider them merely a portion of your environment. You simply do not tune into the range of rock consciousness. [...]

If you remember that beneath all, each unit of consciousness is aware of the position of each other unit, and that these units form all physical matter, then perhaps you can intuitively follow what I mean, for whatever knowledge man attains, whatever experience any one person accumulates, whatever arts or sciences you produce, all such information is instantly perceived at other levels of activity by each of the other units of consciousness that compose physical reality—whether those units form the shape of a rock, a raindrop, an apple, a cat, a frog or a shoe. [...]

[...] A person, then, looking out into the world of trees, waters and rock, wildlife and vegetation, literally felt that he or she was looking at the larger, materialized, subjective areas of personal selfhood.

[...] Such a person, however, walking through the forest, also felt that he or she was also a portion of the inner life of each rock or tree, materialized. [...]

like a dark shiny live rock.

[...] (Pause.) The rocks represented in the past a desire for aloofness. [...] The water, despite all, was safer than the rocks.

[...] She began in trance while seated in our rocking chair, using a quiet voice and pauses, eyes open at times.)

[...] She rocked gently back and forth, speaking in a normal voice. [...]

[...] She was still rocking back and forth, her eyes closed, her hands crossed at her waist.)

(Jane was still peacefully rocking.)

[...] She was still rocking.)

[...] The reference to hills is clearly seen in the photo: Jane sits on a group of craggy high rocks on the Maine seacoast. With the figure painted out of the photo the rocks would easily resemble any number of aerial shots of denuded mountain ranges, or hills, depending on scale.

(The orange-yellow-sunny interpretation of this photograph is particularly intriguing to us because it was taken on an extremely bright day; we remember it well because some other pictures I took on this roll, of rocks and the sea, were overexposed because of brightness and reflections. [...]

[...] She had the feeling Seth wanted to say it was rock; the other day Jane had the conscious impression that it was tin or galvanized metal, of the sort Bill Gallagher uses in fashioning some of his modern sculpture.

Rock followed the will. Rock followed the hand of the will.

[...] Mine is of something steep, downward, with rock. Rock walls, and hard rather than soft beneath. [...]

[...] Mine is something steep, downward, with rock. Rock walls, and hard rather than soft beneath. [...]

[...] More strong movements, most of her body rocking up and down, then back and forth—head, arms, noises. [...]

[...] Suddenly Jane began rocking her head and neck back and forth against the pillow quite violently, at the same time making a series of crying noises. [...]

(“Give us a moment, please… With a block or blocks, as rocks or steps of stone.” This block or rock or stone data could be connected to the data in the paragraph just above this one; although Seth took a long pause in between. At any rate it seems that the texture, the rough stonelike feel and appearance of the pigment on the object, could have given rise to the rock or stone impressions which in turn could conjure up the step data and so lead to the idea of a photo.

With a block or blocks, as rocks or steps of stone. [...]