“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(After a good lunch—which Georgia had started feeding her in my absence—Jane said that in hydro yesterday morning, on the litter, both arms “did better than they ever have in the water. And my left foot did things it’s never done in hydro, too, and the leg.” All good signs, I told her.

(4:40. More crying. Left leg moving outward. Right arm circles, then both arms together. Laughing at the freedom of motion.

(4:45. The supper tray came. “It feels so funny beneath my shoulder blades,” Jane said as she freely moved both shoulders. She rested a bit, refused water, then took it before I turned her on her left side. She had had an extensive workout, one that had touched responses deep within her, and that gave me great hope also. I felt that she’d passed another milestone on her way to recovery, and was delighted with that.

(Now today, Tuesday, November 22, I got to 330 at 1:05 PM. The day was very warm—almost 65 degrees—and sunny, the room was hot with the curtains closed, although both windows were open and the fan was on in the air conditioner/register.

(I told Jane now that in my younger days I’d done almost the same thing, of course, letting others take paintings for which I was never paid. I described a couple of instances we were both familiar with. The events were my own fault, of course, for I hadn’t known enough to take a firm stand and reclaim my own work. But I’d never do that again, even in this reality. I told Jane the dream had awakened strong urges in me to start painting in just that manner—and I knew that I could carry on just that way. I want to do so very badly, so I’m trusting that the way will be shown. I can sense that freedom.

You do innately possess that freedom in your painting—as Ruburt innately possesses that same freedom of bodily motion. The funeral parlor did indeed represent the death of old beliefs (as I’d speculated), but it also represented the negative arena that sometimes exists, it seems, in the world at large, as it impinges upon your own life and beliefs. In a way, your paintings were larger than life. In that their spontaneity so beautifully followed their own order, and the painting seemed to simply flow outward into physical existence. As in art, so in life—then both of you possess that childlike and yet wise spontaneity and freedom.