“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

A note. The material was not distorted when Ruburt gave the April 15th date in connection with Miss Callahan, and the crisis of which I spoke. Her ego has given up the struggle. It realizes that it will not be liquidated. Moments of lucidity will flash and die away. She is basically satisfied now, realizing from direct experience of her own that death involves a transformation, and if there is an ending in your terms, then there is also a new beginning.

(“Does Frank Watts know yet about what is happening to Miss Callahan now?”)

I certainly, most certainly, admire your interest and concern with Frank Watts. You always manage to bring him into a discussion. Frank Watts is aware now of Miss Callahan’s condition, and he will be there to greet her, to her surprise, since our Frank always considered himself a friend of hers, although she was scarcely aware of his existence.

(Jane’s delivery had by now slowed up considerably. She pointed at Bill, sitting quietly on the couch.)

Three lives ago, Mark was contained in a remarkably cruel and violent nature. He is now extremely kind to make up for past cruelties. In the immediately previous life he was a woman, living in your own west, midwest.

In the midwest in the 1840’s, in what is now Iowa, in a town which is now one of the major cities. He had three children.

His mother now subconsciously remembers that earlier existence, and his unfeeling attitude as a husband. This is a beautiful example. Mark still attempts to override an earlier propensity toward insensitiveness, and is therefore now sensitive and impulsive.

His present mother, remembering subconsciously past transgressions of his, now counts upon his impulsive nature and sensitivity to pay him back, this of course representing a mistake on her part, for which she will have to suffer the consequences in still another existence.

You have more than compensated now for past errors, not only in this life but in the previous life. Your painting is almost a direct result of a desire for creativity, to balance what was once your destructive personality.

The painting has its conception in intuition which you achieved during your past life as a woman. However, discipline now becomes a necessity. The intuitions and the impulse behind your creativity must be disciplined, if the creativity is to come to fruition.

Art of any kind is extremely important as a way of paying off debts, that is psychological debts. When you were a woman, Mark, and wealthy, you gave away money. Now like Joseph and Ruburt, you give away parts of yourself, fragments of yourself, made more or less into living psychological forms that according to your ability are free from not only time, but free from many of the defects of your own present personality.

Mark’s present family is composed of a peculiarly vivid meshwork of previous complications. The involvement has been beneficial as far as Mark is concerned thus far. However the situation should now be altered.

Mark, however, was closely connected to you both, as was Rendalin, R-e-n-d-a-l-i-n, who is now your Ed Robbins, not of this city. Take your break, by all means.

(Seth’s mention of Ed Robbins, who now lives in New Paltz, NY, struck me as rather strange. Ed and I became acquainted first by mail when we were both doing free-lance commercial art work. At the time, many years ago, we did not meet. Later, while I was living in my hometown of Sayre, PA, I received a phone call from Ed inviting me to work with him on a project in Saratoga Springs, NY. This time it was a syndicated comic strip. Indeed, Ed introduced me to Jane the day after I moved to Saratoga, where I lived for about a year in the mid-fifties. Within a year Jane and I were married. Then for some time we did not see Ed; the last time was during an overnight stopover in New Paltz, when Jane and I were on our way to York Beach, Maine, on vacation. It will be recalled that it was in the dance hall at York Beach that Jane and I saw the projected fragments of our own personalities, that Seth dealt with so extensively in the 9th session, of December 18, 1963. [See Volume One.]

Nevertheless, I will take it upon myself to point out part of the reason, which does have its own hilarious aspects, looked at from perhaps a more distant perspective than that of which Mark is now capable.

You, Joseph, were the pudgy, hairy-chested and lecherous landowner, and the town was Triev. Your son was an artist, and certainly prances up and down now in the person of your Ruburt; and at the time you had no understanding nor use for art as any man’s profession; and let it be said that in this respect Ruburt treats you much better than you treated him.

(“Can you tell us where the painting is now?”)

(While Jane was delivering the material on Denmark and Triev, Bill said that he recalled quite vividly his experience with his “lost town” episode. This involves a time when Bill was 11 years old. Out walking in the fields and woods just north of Elmira, he came upon an old-fashioned-looking town. It was quite small; he remembers a blacksmith shop and a few other buildings, and people in odd clothing. A few weeks later, attempting to return to this strange place, he could not find it. He never has found it, although at odd times he has attempted to over the years. It made such an impression on him that he never forgot it. He is now 25, and a school teacher. He first told Jane and me about his experience a year or so ago.

As always, I hesitate to close the session. Perhaps I shall peek in now and then, with your permission. I also suggest that you keep an extra tape on hand.

(While still in this drowsy state, without making a great effort I tried to let the sighting return. I was of course more alert by now, but I have the feeling that I did succeed, partially, in allowing it to return. That is, while I saw nothing definite, I have the feeling that it was right around the corner, just out of my range.

(I am now going to make drawings of the two visions, as I did of my vision of Dick.