“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Dreams often serve as the frameworks in which sudden remarkable insights appear that later enable a man or a woman to envision the world in a way that was not earlier predictable. The world’s activities always include the insertion of surprising events. This is true at all levels of nature, from microscopic to macroscopic. As I have said before, all systems are open. The theories of both evolutionists and creationists strongly suggest and reinforce beliefs in the consecutive nature of time, and in a universe that begins in such-and-such a fashion, continuing on to such-and-such an end—but there are horizontal events that appear in the true activity of nature, and there are horizontal entry points and exit points in all experience. These allow for the insertion of unofficial new energy, the introduction of surprising events. Period.

Old honored explanations suddenly appear withered. Unpredictable remarkable events seem more possible. The kind of work done in dreams to some extent is changed. They become more active, more intrusive. Predictable behavior, even of the natural elements, is harder to take for granted. Man begins to sense more and more at such times the vaster dimensions of behavior upon which that appearance of conservation resides.

6. My ever-present concern for Jane would certainly have turned into outright fear had I seen at once the long, untitled poem she wrote on August 26, concurrently with her work on the second chapter for Magical Approach. She didn’t put the poem into its final form, and she didn’t show it to me. Not that she tried to hide it. Neither of us may tell or show the other everything—I just hadn’t been present when she wrote the poem, and she let it lie in her 1981 journal, where I “accidentally” came across it some time later. Even when I did find the poem I became sad, then frightened, then more hopeful as I read it, and I knew at once that I’d have to insert it here in Dreams. For Jane had been depressed when she wrote her poem. Perhaps it was her poetic art of expression that helped me identify so strongly with her emotions, but I suddenly felt that even I had never really understood the myriad depths of her challenges and her reactions to them. In the poem I saw expressed anew her ancient fear of abandonment, along with her dilemmas over her lack of mobility—and my fright was engendered by what I thought were signs that she might choose to leave this physical reality for good. To die. (I’d had similar feelings seven months before she held this 936th session: In Note 13 for Session 931, in Chapter 9, see my comments following the excerpts from the private session for April 15, 1981.)

And a rush of motion shifts / my dry wrists /
minute yet violent, / so that I startle (shudder) /
who have been / motionless so long. / The spidery shell that /
holds my heart / is lifted at one edge /
as if by a sudden wind / and coiled / dry tendrils /
of nerves and muscles / unwind themselves. /
My color changes, / my white parchment / skin turns coral, /
minute wrinkles disappearing. / My shape begins /
to fill out again / as I sense a / strange self returning… /
more swiftly now / mind-stroking / the giant waves /
of the unknown / mental sea.

“Nor will you have to.” / The voice is clearer now /
until it sounds / from my own mouth / (vibrant, loud) /
no longer distant. / We chatter half / the night together /
while I shake / the webs of remoteness /
from fingers and toes. / My shell / grew soft as a web /
then it fell apart / and was whisked off sighing /
in the morning / wind. / All around us /
the beach gathers the / precious images /
that leap up suddenly / in the dark, coming in with /
the tide that unites / the tides of the heart.

“Some really beneficial and odd developments are taking place in my physical condition,” Jane wrote, “generally starting last Saturday night (October 31) when the kids visited from NYC—students I haven’t seen in nearly two years. During their visit I noticed that my right leg, propped up on the coffee table, would suddenly fall very quickly and unexpectedly to the floor. Then they left. When company had gone I talked to Rob and nodded and dozed—then again my leg suddenly dropped and entire body turned independently of my will or intent to the left. This happened several times. Then in a moment of dozing I suddenly found my body moving forward, half standing, with strong energy and more or less natural motion—all by itself.

“Effects continued on Sunday. Once my right arm suddenly moved out to the left, throwing my pack of cigarettes I was holding to the floor with sudden energy. Then late Sunday night I watched TV, dozing off a few minutes at a time—I came to, frightened, to find myself half off the couch and on the floor, trying to get onto my chair; yelled for Rob, who was in another room. He helped me back. Then a long dream experience in which my body was clearing itself.”

“Ruburt’s body is allowing itself to relax, particularly on the couch when his back is supported. Tension is being relieved, and often this sudden lessening of tension also frightens him. It is excellent therapy on the part of the body, of a fairly temporary nature. It breaks down, however, many strong elements of control after control continually being applied. These are of excellent benefit. Rigidity is drained from the body by such methods. He is safe, supported and protected—that is, of course, the message that he is trying to get through his head at this time. You can be of help to him by reminding him of that support and protection. The body knows what it is doing (emphatically).