“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(11:17. Jane smiled as I called her again. “I just got the image of being a giant in a giant room. Then something I don’t understand: an image of myself as a gorilla, or something like that. I’m as tall as the ceiling, trying to knock the walls down … I’m not understanding what’s going on very well. Now I’m getting bigger. I think I’m going to come out of it … My face isn’t doing anything, is it? Changing in any way?”

(11:21. “I had the feeling of my hair being long and parted in the middle, as though I’ve got some kind of humanoid features; you know, with the hair hanging down on each side of my face, which is something like an animal’s — but with very intelligent eyes, very warm and soft.”⁸ Jane finally opened her eyes. Her ears still rang, so loudly that she asked me if I heard the same sound. I told her I didn’t. We walked around the room. I made her half a sandwich. “It’s sort of frustrating,” she said. “It’s as though I’m seeing or feeling what I’m capable of at the moment, but I know there’s more there behind that. I can feel it, but I can’t get it out.”

9. On facing pages in our album, Jane and I have a pair of large, rather formal photographs of ourselves that we’ve often joked about. As it happened we looked at them earlier this evening. Both of them were taken in 1936. Jane, in her photograph, is 6½ years old. I’m 16 in mine, and one year short of finishing high school. More than once Jane has asked me what I’d have thought at that age had I been aware that my wife-to-be was a “round-faced little kid, still playing with paper dolls….”