“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

You can do several things now—walk out of the back of your skull down the path toward the other end. Go out, completely and fully, or if you are pussyfooting, then send your imaginative self out but go.

Now I want you to follow that same path backward entering again through the back of your own skull in which ever way you choose. Use the cricket as a sign, and let it indeed become louder. It belongs to the room in which you will now open your eyes.

But time and space are one to us.
The infinite skull
Opens skies all curled within,
Miniature world on world.

[...] How could your small skull hold a replica of a cement building, for example, even though the skull might be a rockhead? [...]

[...] They do exist, even though they do not exist in space as you know it, and certainly they do not take up space in the skull. [...]

[...] Now concentrate on the feeling in the back of your skull. [...]

Outward from your skulls, therefore, into a dimension that has no space or time, in your terms. [...]

(“And a distant connection with a skull or skull shape.” [...] These hats throw their faces into bold relief, and give a skull-like or egg-shaped look.

[...] Connection with a disturbance, and a distant connection with a skull or skull shape. [...]

[...] It’s interesting to note however that in late July, 1971, about eight months after this session, newspapers carried the story — with photographs — of the unearthing of a “massive” subhuman skull in a cave in the French Pyrenees Mountains, very close to the Spanish border.

(The skull is at least two hundred thousand years old, and represents a race not identified before. [...]

My fingers are leaves that rustle and drop.
Birds fly through the eyes of my skull.
Clouds float atop my spinning head
And stars burn the moons of my toes.

[...] The holes are not big enough to see much,
But dreams travel wondrous wires.
Fires brighter than autumn moons
Throw leaping shadows on the arm.
Days and nights burn like stars
In the twinkling meadows of the skull,
And through the fence of peach-blooming flesh,
Other fruits blossom, beyond reach.

In the twinkling meadows of the skull,

In the skulls of frogs.

[...] The consciousness returning once again to the beautiful ivory bone skull, the eyes opening into the ordinary room. [...]

I speak to you from the known and unknown desire that gives you your own birth, and that speaks to you from the tiniest, least-acknowledged thought that flies like a pigeon within your skull … And in this moment of your reality, and in the desire of your being, do you even create All That Is. [...]

You may perhaps argue that the book was manufactured physically, and did not suddenly erupt through Ruburt’s skull, already printed and bound. [...]

[...] Under hypnosis a subject is not as much on guard, as is the subject of an experiment who knows in advance that he will be awakened by experimenters, that electrodes will be attached to his skull and that laboratory conditions are substituted for his nightly environment.

My dreaming self
Looked in the window
And saw me on the bed.
Moonlight filled
My sleeping skull.
I lay nude and still.

Dreamers make their own sidewalks,
Webs stretched out from thought to thought,
Extensions of the restless skull,
Invisible and dark and still.

[...] Are these miles contained within the small skull? [...]

[...] It expands and grows and you feel its vitality gather, yet when you say it grows and expands, it does not grow and expand, again, somewhere in the space between your ears, to burst apart the bones of the skull. [...]

[...] The self is not enclosed within the bony skull. [...]

[...] At her request I put my finger on a certain spot high up on the back of Jan’s head, where the muscles from the neck join the skull—and suddenly her head began to flop forward then jerk backward at an almost alarming rate, so fast did it move. [...]

[...] Neither event had made as much of an impression on her as tonight’s experience, for she hadn’t sensed the odd, infinite black within the expanded area of the skull. [...]

[...] And the clouds flow through the thick skull easily. [...]

[...] You are not limited by the bones of your skull. [...]

[...] You have only to close your eyes and see—as now, if all of you are quiet you can feel the cosmic breezes blow through your cheeks, and yesterday flies through your skull like clouds disappearing. [...]

[...] The slight motion of one grain of sand causes a corresponding alteration in the distribution of the stars and in all matter’s fabric, from an atom in a man’s skull down to the slightest variation in a microbe’s action.

Suddenly, time blossomed like a strange flower in his skull. [...]