“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(This afternoon at 2 PM a very large tree limb fell just outside our living room windows, where I type up these sessions.

(It is March 6, 1964. It is a warm and very windy day here in Elmira, much windier than usual. The streets have been littered with debris from trees, and driving home this noon after taking Jane to work I felt several small limbs strike the roof of the car.

(Back home and ready to being typing, I found it so windy and noisy I thought it best to close the windows. The tree that lost the branch stands perhaps thirty feet away on my right; actually it sits on a neighbor’s property. It is an elm that died a few years ago, and possessed a very beautiful and symmetrical shape. I have drawn it several times, the most elaborate drawing being one I intended to incorporate in a tempera painting last winter. I did not get the work done.

(Before starting work this afternoon I studied my favorite tree for a while, noticing that the force of the wind had begun to peel back large sections of bark from some of the middle limbs. One of these limbs arched up over our lawn toward our living room on the second floor, and the jutting-out bay windows of the apartment beneath us on the ground floor. I remember thinking that if this limb should fall, it would be long enough to strike the house.

(I began work, sitting with my back to the tree so that I did not see the actual fall. I heard and felt a great roar. The whole house shook with a thump. I heard wires flap loose. Turning, I saw that this particular limb had indeed fallen. Fortunately, it had broken off halfway up, and its tip barely missed our house. Now the yard is littered with sections of limb several inches in diameter and perhaps twenty-five feet long. Our television cable has also been ripped loose.

(I wonder: Watching the tree, did my inner senses tell me the limb would fall—information that I casually disregarded? Or is it just coincidence?

The wind knows the tree. The tree feels the wind. It knows it is not the wind, but only feels the wind. Likewise Ruburt feels me but is not me. I may be a big wind, but I am not her big wind.

(During break we also discussed the falling tree limb incident that I wanted to ask Seth about, and the tooth that had been bothering me for several days. The moment Jane resumed dictation, her voice returned to very nearly its full volume and depth. Her eyes darkened as usual. By now her pacing was somewhat faster. Resume at 10:57.)

Concerning your tree: You were aware that the tree would fall. You received this inner data at noon but you ignored it. In this case your outer senses served to restimulate the inner data. The noise of the wind and so forth gave you a glimmering of the earlier data that had not reached your consciousness.

(It will be remembered that the tree limb fell at 2 PM, on March 6, 1964.