“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(4:32. But deliberately, she moved her right leg out to the right, away from the left one, crying all the while. I could see the muscles in the right leg flexing to some degree—a sight that’s been pretty infrequent so far.

(4:35. Jane asked for water, but her left arm began rotating so fast she couldn’t drink. Then the left arm went around and around. “That’s the most I’ve moved everything all in one day.” she said, and it was true.

(2:25. After having a cigarette after lunch, Jane started reading the session for November 20, since I hadn’t typed up any notes yet for yesterday’s events. She was disappointed at this, since she knew yesterday’s events had been significant, and she wanted to read about them. Jane has read the session before, of course, but she read it once more and did very well indeed, as good as she had the first time, saying the type was very clear and bright at times. Her reading has been consistently far better than it used to be, even when she has a comparatively rough time with it.

(2:43. Next, I had her reread the session for November 19—last Saturday. And she did it easily—as good as she’s ever done, she said. I agreed. “ A couple of times the type got really clear.” Good signs, of course, but we don’t take them for granted. Not yet.

(2:40. While Jane was having a cigarette, Georgia came in to tell us the projected closing of Surgical 3 was now off. Georgia had indeed complained to nursing service, and in turn they had agreed to cancel the idea. No one else had been in favor of it, either. “I told them I’d refuse to be a floater,” Georgia said, meaning she didn’t want to be constantly shifted around. “Another rumor bit the dust,” I said, joking, but we were relieved.

(In the second part of the dream, I was confronting the youngish director of a funeral parlor—this after I’d made my exciting breakthrough into complete mastery and control, yet freedom, as an artist. The dark-haired young man was trying to talk me into displaying some of my smaller paintings in the room in his funeral home where guests were seated for viewings, etc. I was very skeptical. I wanted the paintings to be priced so people might buy them, but he said that wouldn’t be proper in a funeral home. I replied that his policy meant people would think the paintings were his, and not for sale. He hemmed and hawed, as they say, but finally I told him to forget the whole business. I wasn’t about to let my art be compromised for any reason.

(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.

There was some disorientation on Ruburt’s part because of the unaccustomed motion, but he handled that well. (The crying.) His arms also showed additional freedom—and in many instances portions of his body moved with the same kind of ease that you experienced in your dream of last evening, as you painted the large portraits—

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.

I may or may not return, according to those rhythms of which I speak—those same rhythms that motivated the ease of your paintings in your dream. But in any case, I am present and approachable.

(3:55 PM. “Wait a second,” Jane said, “and then you can read that to me. But before you do, there’s one spot on my neck I want you to touch.” When I did, her head suddenly began bouncing back and forth on her pillow and my hand. Then I read her the session since break.

(4:22. Jane lay so quietly that I thought she’d fallen asleep—but no, she said, she was just moving inside very quietly.