“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Now: the characteristics of the settled-upon sperm and egg predominate, but these are also related—in a manner most difficult to describe—to all the other sperm who did not make contact with that given egg, and also to the other eggs that might have formed instead of the one that did (all intently).

(Long pause at 9:30.) The physical universe had to spring from a source that exists beyond life itself. The universe came alive through a divine spontaneity that knew its own order—a spontaneity whose creations would automatically fall into meaningful patterns. At what point did apelike mammals alter their own genetic message, in terms of evolution’s tales? What sperm first knew itself different, knowing it would mature—if it did as a man instead of an ape? And what apelike female changed her genetic messages, knowing that her egg, if it matured, would literally give birth to an entirely new species, one that centuries later would read and write?

I cannot explain adequately that basically childbirth is a joyful—one of the most joyful—creative activities. In a way the child is—in a way (underlined), the child is—the finalized version in your reality (long pause) of a vast number of sperm and eggs.

[...] You have thoughts as you have eggs for breakfast. You are not the eggs and you are not your thoughts. You are as independent of your thoughts and your emotions as you are of the bacon and the eggs. You use the bacon and the eggs in your physical composition; and you use your emotions and your thoughts in your mental composition. [...]

[...] Directly in back of the painting is a large circular ceramic sculpture, perhaps a foot in diameter, that is more egg-shaped than a perfect circle. [...] Just to the right of this sculpture is another egg-shaped sculpture; this one is of polished silvery metal and is perhaps ten inches across. [...]

(“More of an egg shape than a circle.” [...] The smaller of the two sculptures is more egg-shaped than the larger. [...]

More of an egg shape than a circle. [...]

I think my eyes move further to each side than they did—though when they do the images do get transposed one on the other sometimes; but my eyes felt like hardboiled eggs for weeks; now they feel much softer. [...]

[...] The sperm has to find the egg. [...]

[...] “I do not know if it refers to a scramble of lines, events or perhaps eggs. [...] A scrambled-egg connection also enters in, somewhat removed, since the Bernards and Jane and I had scrambled eggs for breakfast Sunday, November 27.

I do not know if it refers to a scramble of lines, events, or perhaps eggs. [...]

[...] She’d had an enjoyable, rather heavy supper of hash and eggs and toast, plus ice cream, and began dozing in her chair as soon as she’d finished eating. [...]

[...] When you crack an egg to discover what is inside you ruin the egg. There are other ways to get inside the egg, and they are not too difficult to do... [...]

[...] I am used to opening eggs without cracking them.

[...] Egg-shaped as a thin oval line just inside of a rectangular card.” [...] Later note by RFB: Mother Goose on card carries a basket (of eggs?). There is a goose beside her—reminds me of goose eggs.

[...] Egg-shaped (pause) as a thin oval line just inside of a rectangular card.

Egg carton

[...] Could 3 and 7 — egg carton and milk man — apply to Larry’s grocery store job? [...]

[...] A fan (Larry), here from Pennsylvania, says he has a new 2nd job — in grocery chain convenient market (that sells basics — nothing fancy; eggs, milk, beer, etc.). [...]

[...] In a couple of essays I discussed, and asked questions about, the roles played by the 200 million to 500 million sperm that don’t make contact with the female egg at the time of conception. I also wanted to know about the deep biological communication that must go on among all of the sperm in a man’s body at any given time, and why one of the “fittest” sperm in a particular ejaculate evidently doesn’t always fertilize the egg. [...]

(To Ron) I egg—listen to me—I egg you on. [...]

(Jane ate a better lunch today — that is, not enough to keep a bird alive, but still an improvement over most of the month of July: A little soup, a little egg yolk, coffee, a little custard, chocolate milk, and so forth.

[...] You wonder what gave life to the first egg or seed, or whatever, and think that an answer to that question would answer most others; for life, you say, was simply passed on from that point.

But what gives life to the egg or the seed now, keeps it going, provides that energy? [...]

[...] Eggs and asparagus are helpful.

I am obviously not suggesting a whole diet composed of eggs and asparagus. [...]

[...] You have thoughts as you have eggs for breakfast, but you are not the eggs, and you are not your emotions. You are as independent of your thoughts and emotions as you are of the bacon and eggs. You use the bacon and eggs in your physical composition, and you use your thoughts and emotions in your mental composition. [...]

[...] The fears of time, the early fears that made him want to escape poverty, the feeling that all eggs must be put in one basket, and his reaction to you and your circumstances—these were all connected. [...]

(Jane didn’t eat much breakfast, except cereal, because the young girl who fed her couldn’t properly present the bacon and eggs, for some reason; Cathy’s sister. [...]

(The following reference to a portrait concerns an egg-tempera portrait I entered into the annual Chemung County Artists’ Exhibition. [...]

[...] She did quite well, taking chocolate milk, coffee, a slice of toast and jelly, several bites of egg and bacon. [...]