“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] Under certain conditions water turns into ice. [...]

[...] The change of thoughts, feelings and beliefs into physical, objectively perceived phenomena is as natural as water changing into ice, for example, or a caterpillar turning into a butterfly. [...]

[...] To do this he became part water in a kind of identification you can barely understand — but so did the water then become part of the man.

[...] 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.

I simply wanted to tell Ruburt that drinking more water will indeed show almost immediate good results. [...]

[...] “I knew he was going to say that about water,” Jane said, “when I wanted to hold the session. [...]

(She did drink more water, and I hope she makes this a part of her daily routine, even when I’m not there. [...]

1. I mixed the powder with water as instructed, and gave Jane a couple of doses 12 hours apart. [...]

[...] Yesterday Jane felt very uncomfortable as she sat in her chair on the water cushion. [...]

“In some cases the distortion could be likened to the reflection of a solid tree in water. The outer senses, observing the reflection, might try to judge the depth of the water by the height of the tree, supposing it to be as deep as the tree is high …”

[...] There is a continual exchange of energy and vitality, in other words, of actual atoms and molecules between one plane and another … the interaction and movement of even one plane through another results in effects that will be perceived in various ways … as necessary distortive boundaries, in some cases resembling a flow as if a plane were surrounded by water, or in other cases a charge as of electricity. [...]

[...] We ate, played cards, and periodically checked the water level. [...] The flood crested within fifteen minutes of the time Jane had given, and within three inches of her projected high-water mark. We slept that evening knowing that the water was dropping quickly. [...]

(The water, thick with topsoil, exuding a near-suffocating odor of petroleum effluents, became one foot deep in the yard, then three, then five…. [...] We sipped wine and used light self-hypnosis to take the edge off our tension, but as we watched the water crawl up the side of the old red-brick house next door, our new reality threatened to turn into a terrifying one indeed. [...]

[...] She told me that the water would reach its highest level late that afternoon; incredibly, it would become almost ten feet deep in the yard and reach halfway up the first-floor windows of the house next to ours. [...]

[...] 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... [...]

(Without indulging in wishful thinking, Jane and I thought we saw some points of similarity in the above data and a miniature teapot, namely the fact that the test object could be held in the hand, had a connection with water, and an indentation. [...]

[...] 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. [...]

[...] On this level, which also achieved its purpose, the water image was translated into a bag, or the bag of water that burst.

[...] Our water was cold this morning. Inspecting the cellar after breakfast, Jane discovered a foot of water there, and of course immediately called the landlord.)

There was no distortion but some confusion as far as the childbirth and water bag episode was concerned. [...]

Part of Ruburt’s dream, you see, did have to do with a ship; and here with a second vessel and the water, you find that information was given on a subconscious level to Ruburt concerning his friend’s journey. [...]

[...] In spite of it all things went well, Jane said, though “they” ran the water more heavily than the old staff members did, and Jane said she couldn’t try to move her feet as easily with the increased pressure of the water. [...]

[...] She said she didn’t try to do much in hydro because of the water: “I guess that’s just the way different people do it.” [...]

[...] (See my dream notebook for December 6, 1967.) The water did represent the streak of life. [...] Not only did they lead back to the water, but all other routes along them that you followed were perilous. The water, despite all, was safer than the rocks.

[...] You saw that the course could not be pursued, for all the roads led to involvement with the water. [...]

(Monday, May 11, 9:50 PM, after Monday’s brief session: I had brief glimpses of many things, including this symbol, drawn in wet dark sand at water’s edge. I also saw two men, deeply tanned, in bathing suits at water’s edge. [...]

[...] 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?

So in those terms, how many water dwellers died before the first mammal stood securely with fully completed lungs, breathing earth’s early air?

I have a connection with Martha and water, perhaps because you told me she lived on Grand Island, or perhaps this is an indication of a street name such as Lake Avenue, Water Street, etc.

I have a connection with Martha and water, perhaps because you told me she lived on Grand Island, or perhaps this is an indication of a street name such as Lake Ave, Water St., etc. [...]

And yet, as a gardener sometimes at night walks through his garden and observes his plants—and gives added fertilizer to some—and waters others—and arranges others so that they get more sun—so your own entity walks through your soul and whispers instructions. [...]

(Florence commented that she would hate to be dependent upon somebody watering her as a flower. [...]

[...] And if the life force did not fill the plant, no amount of watering would make it grow. [...]

[...] Then on April 14 Ethel Waters calls from Production at Tam’s insistence saying that after Events was delayed till May 14 because of the disclaimer problems; so it would come out the same month as God of Jane.... [...]

[...] Stories of walking on water give you the same kind of proposition, where you have to all effects and purposes dry water, or solid water.

[...] … They didn’t have water to drink. [...] But they thought that drinking water was unhealthy. [...] But they didn’t drink the water. [...] They made soups from the water, though, and they were lucky that the stream came down from a high place. [...]

“They boiled the water for soups; this killed a lot of germs, so they were actually healthier than other communities who had more water, since a good deal of it was polluted. [...]

[...] The water was warm in the winter. [...]

In other probabilities, water-dwelling mammals predominate. They farm the land as you farm the water, and are only now learning how to operate upon the land for any amount of time, as you are only now learning how to manipulate below the water.

At one time on your earth, in the way you look at time, there were many such species: water dwellers, with brain capacities as good as and better than your own. [...]

[...] 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. [...]

[...] Jane and I had moved back to 458 W. Water Street, only now the house was much bigger than it really is, had many more apartments in it — they were all in good shape, with numerous stairways connecting them on a split-level layout. [...]

[...] I didn’t note it in my dream account earlier here, but I’d described to Jane how I’d asked whoever owned 458 W. Water Street these days how much our rent would be. [...]