“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Naturally, left alone, men and women would cry without embarrassment, for crying would have no connotations of defeat, any more than the sky is embarrassed when it rains. Built-up tensions obviously lead to depression. In a male crying is considered the worst kind of behavior. In a woman who regards herself as intellectual, the same connotations apply.

It is natural to feel upset or sad, or like crying when your body hurts, for whatever reasons. The knees exercise themselves when Ruburt is sleeping, and stretch when no weight is upon them. The ligaments in particular can then feel sore.

It would do him better to cry when he feels like it, fully. This is not a lack of belief or optimism, but an honest response at a given moment, and one that allows the body a natural release from tension. He is afraid that such action would put you in a poor mood, but you must both understand that it is therapeutic, and also activates the body in beneficial ways. This is far better than “trying to be brave.”

He felt like crying this afternoon. This was a quite legitimate physical expression, for as tension began to release it had a force meant to blow outward through tears, the whole process of crying relaxing those areas involved. [...]

[...] You can minimize pain or discomfort through drugs, cutting down on the “cry” of any symptoms. The cry of symptoms, however, is meant to bring about a new condition, to trigger healing aspects, so drugs can often impede the healing process.

[...] The quick actions involved in both laughing and crying also quicken circulation, and actually dislodge body “poisons”—natural toxins or elements that have served good purposes biologically, and are harmful only if they are then retained.

[...] Half crying and moaning in no time, arms and hands moving from where I’d propped them up. [...] She continued half crying. [...] I don’t know what I’m doing,” she cried, when I asked her if she was thinking about Marie.

[...] She almost cried. I could tell they’d all been crying. [...]

[...] Jane was moaning and crying. [...]

[...] At the same time she began half crying again. “Oh look, it wants to go up so high,” she cried. [...]

[...] cries. Head and shoulders side to side, loud cries. [...]

[...] Cries and whispers. [...]

[...] 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. [...] Jane cried again. [...]

[...] 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. [...]

[...] But deliberately, she moved her right leg out to the right, away from the left one, crying all the while. [...]

[...] Much more than usual, she said, breathing heavily through her mouth and half-crying at the same time. [...]

(She was still half-crying with pain and upset, but told me to go out at 11:45. [...]

[...] Jane loved it, but almost broke down crying as I came in at noon. [...]

(And Jane, now I’ll tell you that as you had a crying spell last night—so have I at various times since you went into the hospital last April. [...] Other times I would suddenly begin crying as I ate breakfast, or heard a familiar song on television, or sat at my typewriter working on Dreams. [...] They began to taper off after you resumed the sessions in early October, and I haven’t had one now—not outright crying—for several weeks. [...]

[...] Jane said she really cried out loud—calling my name out to help her get well, and so forth. [...] The crying went on after that, too, but then, before midnight, Jane said, the period of blueness was gone. [...]

(Then she said that off and on for a couple of hours last night she got very blue—awful, she said —crying and calling for me. [...]

[...] The tears were streaming down Jane’s face as she came out of the session, and their flow increased as she cried more and more. [...]

(“I always tried to buy her things to make up,” Jane cried, her whole face twisted with tearful emotion. [...]

[...] I groped for words to express my anger, for watching my wife cry certainly aroused strong feelings within me. [...]

[...] Half crying, she began more motions with her arms and hands. [...]

(4:00 p.m. Jane said she still felt some panic, and was half crying. [...]

[...] I mentioned the joy Seth referred to, and Jane said she felt it, even as she cried while I helped her move her arms. [...]

Villagers below cry,

Bathers cry, “Here comes

[...] But it seemed that now she would try to shut off the crying, or sidetrack it, at this time. [...] Ordinarily the crying would hurt me, but now, this time, I really wanted her to let it come through. [...]

Some natural crying is probably far healthier than none. [...]

[...] Jane hasn’t been able to cry, although I have the definite feeling that she’d like to. [...]

Crying is a cleansing and usually quite beneficial activity, releasing psychic as well as physical pressures. He has little use for it, or for people who cry, because of his mother’s crying spells. Crying clears the air and guarantees that the emotion will not be repressed. [...]

[...] When he feels that way it would be of great help if he simply cried alone, or went to you for comfort. [...]

(“I don’t know,” Jane said, then suddenly jumped on the couch and threw up her hands, eyes still closed, in the obvious grip of urgent strong emotion: “I don’t know —slam—slam brakes!” Jane cried and yelled out, almost hysterical. [...] My touch on her shoulder helped; her crying subsided but continued as she called to me. [...]

(“There were two cars,” Jane cried out, glasses thrown aside. [...] Now she rubbed her lower left arm; she cried out, voice rising almost to a scream: “I was driving. [...]

(She was almost crying. [...]

(She lay back upon her bed and pillow, half crying at times, speaking with a choked voice often, and once again with a different rhythm — one broken by long pauses every few words, as yesterday.)

I bid you (half crying) a most fond and sympathetic afternoon.

(3:21 Jane was again half crying. [...]

[...] there was a lot on this; I’d half wake up, very sore; half crying.... [...]

[...] Again I grew very sore—after being fairly comfortable for the night—half awakened crying as different things happened that I’ve forgotten.... [...]

[...] She could feel it in her right leg—she cried out as a muscle spasm ran down the right leg to the toes. [...]

[...] At the same time, Jane almost cried as the right leg tried to move. [...]

[...] She cried out. [...]

(After I turned her I broke down crying when I tried to tell her how much I loved her. Jane cried too. [...]

(Off and on through the afternoon I’d felt like crying, as I’d become more and more sure that Jane was indeed thinking things over. [...]

(I love you, Jane, and don’t know whether to laugh or cry. [...]

[...] “Is there that possibility — getting better enough to sit on the back porch again?” she asked, half crying.

(She continued to make crying sounds, her face contorted. [...]

[...] He started to whimper and to cry when he knew that he had his home and his family to protect and he didn’t do it, and I had crying kids and I didn’t need a crying husband because the older kids could shoot much better than their father because he didn’t know how to pull the trigger. [...]

[...] She also began to cry. [...]

[...] [I had cried in the car as we drove out of Sayre on the way south, but had, I thought, regarded this as natural enough at the time.] Jane told me that it was her fault we had chased around the country, that her spontaneity had done nothing but get us into trouble. [...]

(Then, Jane continued, still crying, we had returned to Sayre, then Elmira, where I had worked full time for three years, then became very sick for a year. [...]