“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

While mountains generally maintain a more or less permanent position, in your terms, the vegetation that grows on the different levels changes. New flowers come each spring. You may always find a patch of violets in the same general position in the foothills each year, for example; yet they are not the same violets that grew last season, or that will appear next season.

Psychically you are somewhat related, in the same way for instance that the violets that grow this year in one spot are related to all violets that have grown — or will ever grow — from (or on) the same spot. Each moment, each year, has other dimensions, therefore, that you do not comprehend as yet. To you, other people born now in 1940 would be born in a probable reality. Yet you share the same bed, so to speak. When you look at an object you see its exterior, and when you experience time you perceive its exterior.

Give us a moment … Time periods themselves, then, are somewhat like platforms — natural platforms — that serve “time and time again” to bring forth fresh life. Because of your viewpoint this is highly difficult [for you] to understand. Say you were born in 1940. It seems to you that 1940 is gone, though it was the time of your birth. Returning to our analogy, however: You are like one violet, born in one spring on one ledge, and we will call the ledge, here, 1940. Other people are being born in 1940 now, in a different “season.”

(9:43.) Give us a moment … The year 1940, then, continues to exist as the mountain ledge continues to exist, and it brings forth new creativity “each season.” The violets on our hypothetical mountainside contribute to the life of the mountain even while they have their own independent reality, and the overall cycle of the seasons regulates the growth and development of the mountain and all of its manifestations.

[...] Violets will grow where there were violets before. [...] If you looked at that same landscape one summer and then the next, you might say: “Ah, the violets always grow there, and it is good to see the lilies of the valley in the shadow of the same rock.” [...] Otherwise you would think: “Violets are violets, and they are always here each spring.”

[...] A violet springs to life in the backyard, but the violet must stay there. [...]

[...] You and the stars are simultaneous events, each conscious and aware but in different “scales” of actuality — as your scale of consciousness is different from that of the violets.

[...] The girl’s violet eyes stared down at me as though they would move behind their violet glasses at any moment. [...]

[...] Out of the corner of my right eye I caught a glimpse of my oil painting, The Girl with The Violet Eyes, as I call it. [...]

[...] I explained to her after the session that I wasn’t sure about the reference to purple or violet, which I seldom use directly because they are hard to integrate into a painting—at least for me. [...] The reds I use, being cadmiums, can take on a decided violet cast when mixed with white. [...]

[...] You can use purple or violet with too heavy a hand, and the brown becomes lost then. [...]

(“A violet. [...] As I applied scouring powder I was surprised to see the black ink on the palm turn what might be termed a red with violet undertones. [...]

A violet. [...]

[...] Thus we have a progression here from black to violet to red to yellow.

The child, laughing with joy and awe at the sight of the first violet, understands far more in the deepest terms than a botanist who has long since forgotten the experience of perceiving one violet, though he has at his mental fingertips the names and classifications of all the world’s flowers. [...]

No apple tree tries to grow violets. [...] Much more of your knowledge can be conscious, therefore; but a false belief, a limiting one, is as ambiguous to your nature as any apple tree’s idea that it was a violet plant.

It could not produce violets, nor could it be a good apple tree while it tried to. [...]

[...] I have the impression of a great big round object… I don’t know what it is, and a favorite song of hers, I think having to do with violets. Roses and violets, I don’t know.

[...] There is something about a… I seem to sense Billie at this time wearing dark-colored dress, not black, that Jerry might remember, of violet or purple color. [...]

This is from an artist who always used siennas for initial flesh tones, with a suggestion very lightly of violets. [...]

[...] The method of using siennas, ochre and violet is not one I have used, but appears to be quite sensible; I may try it soon. [...]

(I brought in to show Jane the two paintings that had been involved in my enlarged-perception experience yesterday—The Girl with The Violet Eyes and the head of the man. [...]

[...] Violet or purple, and an agreeable solution to be found. [...]

(“Violet or purple", There is red on the object.

The colors, strangely enough, considering the color of the ribbon, were predominately violets and yellows, with some blues.

You did not like the red with the violets.

(“And I had the feeling that the whole thing was in the color violet,” Jane said after a few minutes had passed. [...]

[...] It is like saying you wish a tree was a violet, or vice-versa. [...]

[...] Red can be a good color to wear under certain conditions, or violets. [...]

[...] Objects, however, follow certain laws of a physical nature as you experience them, just as violets on the ground do not suddenly change into rocks.

[...] I cannot describe the intrinsic shimmer and sparkle of those faceted walls, shining and vibrating in warm oranges, browns, yellows, reds, and violets. [...]

You also experimented with inserting odors into pigment, very briefly, for churches, so that a violet for example would smell like the flower. [...]

It would be silly for a violet to wonder why it was not a grape. [...]

[...] The rug is a darkish violet and gray, close to a blue, etc.