“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(4:20. More flexing of that leg—I could see the muscles in it moving clear up to the hips. By now Jane was starting to utter cries and to breathe quite heavily as she moved. I think the cries were a mixture of frustration, tears, discomfort and anticipation. The left leg moved, particularly at the hip, again. “My body wants to do it so bad.” Now her right leg began moving more sideways to the right. Jane cried again. “That’s the first time I’ve done that. I don’t know what to do with it, it feels funny.” No doubt about it, good things were taking place, new things that had her upset and anticipatory at the same time. Her face was often screwed up into a knot.

(4:26. Now her left leg started moving sideways at a rapid pace. All of the time she was half-crying and breathing hard. She groaned and cried and lifted up her left leg again. Crying, she moved her head and shoulders against the pillow, back and forth. “Oh, my God, that’s the most I’ve done with them yet,” she said, meaning her legs. “Now the right one has pulled away from leaning against the left one. I don’t want to do any more.”

(The lunch tray was there and Jane ate very well; she’s doing much better with the teeth. Georgia came in and set up the portable fan on the desk; this breeze helped a lot. Even I was warm.

(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 is no doubt that Ruburt’s right leg manifested important new motions yesterday. It began to stretch and move itself in ways that it had not been able to do before. Those motions allowed other motions to occur in other parts of the body. Those improvements were in the process of taking place in the period immediately before they showed themselves, when the legs seemed comparatively quiet.

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.

Ruburt’s books, of course, “came through” in the same fashion as do these sessions, for they follow the inclines of nature—that inner nature upon which the exterior world depends.

(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.

(4:13. “My right leg is doing it now,” she exclaimed, and I saw it move outward a little. Gentle groans.