“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Years ago, when the Gallery of Silence people began to bug him, he felt threatened, afraid that he would become the brunt of fanatics or extremists. [...] He knew he would never give into that course, but he felt that some of that dates back to childhood habits and beliefs, when his very food and bed was given him by the auspices of the public. [...]

[...] Earlier today—as she reaffirmed now—she’d said more than once that she wanted to “get back to the sessions, no matter what,” or how she felt. [...]

(Jane said she felt Seth around by 9:20, but that she thought the session would be a short one. [...]

Largely—for I am simplifying here to some considerable degree, but largely—Ruburt felt little difficulties to be encountered in his private search, but in their public expression he was far more cautious. [...]

[...] Jane felt she had unwittingly given herself improper suggestions during the experiment. [...] I felt she had alerted her ego somehow, and that it was balking at going through the usual psy-time routine. [...] Today she had felt “half dissolved.”

[...] She usually tries her experiments from 11:30 to 12:00 noon; today when I arrived home at 12:15, she mentioned that her hands felt light. [...]

[...] Jane functioned all right, but felt as though she could “fly,” as though her feet would not come back to earth. [...]

The entire question is a deeply creative one, bringing about insights that he felt were highly vital. He felt himself adequate to the task. [...]

[...] At a few spots I felt the tears in her voice, and that they were very close to breaking through.)

[...] There were many questions he asked himself about his mother’s condition in particular (Marie is a bedridden arthritic), and about such situations in general, and he did indeed allow himself to go along on one level to provide an extraordinary impetus that he felt would be needed to conquer such extraordinary conditions.

(I didn’t say so because the time was speeding past and I felt dead tired myself, but the session seemed to offer some glimmers of hope. [...]

[...] but as if I always felt that spontaneously, left alone, I’d end up taking away people’s comfort blankets and I felt bad about that, even while I knew that those philosophic blankets were wormy, had to go. [...]

[...] I accept everything in the book—his opinions on medicine, etc.—but I think I felt that if I was going to tell it like it was—and I was, was determined to, then I also needed more protection from the world—and began cutting down mobility again. [...]

[...] All this time I felt completely weightless, unable to function in the physical world. [...] I felt completely relaxed and still my senses were sharp and clear as never before. [...] When Rob felt my hand, it was wet and floppy, and my body seemed to have no physical resistance at all.

[...] I answered that I felt odd and unlike myself. [...] My arms and shoulders felt like water or air. [...]

[...] Then I sat in another chair and felt funnier. My hands felt very light and so did my shoulders. [...]

[...] Almost at once, I felt drowsy and sat in the rocker — without rocking. [...]

He felt that he was at certain times caught between you and Prentice: more worried about dealing with your attitudes toward Prentice than he was about dealing with the situation itself, with Prentice. As he tried to comprehend it, he also felt that certain attitudes of yours toward the marketplace would spill over and threaten the unimpeded clear channel that he felt has been formed to convey his writing to the public realm. [...]

(“Realize that since ‘79 at least I’ve felt to some degree that I had to protect my work even against Rob, whose ill feeling at Prentice might.... [...]

[...] I felt better about that. [...]

[...] The entire situation, however, bothered him deeply, since he felt of course a great sense of loyalty to you even when he did not share a your particular beliefs at any given point. [...]

(Then today, Saturday, my pendulum told me that I felt guilty about using painting time when I should be working on Seth’s “Unknown” Reality, since the painting wasn’t bringing in money, etc. This was a subtle but important change in my knowledge—for I saw that I wasn’t so much concerned about the amount of work I had to do on the books, as that I felt guilty about doing other things. [...]

[...] But my distress was also more general than that, so I felt other things were involved. [...]

[...] My stomach felt somewhat better; Other pains in my body, while persisting, didn’t concern me so much. [...]

[...] But I think this came about because I felt I’d already begun to figure things out. [...]

(Long pause at 10:10.) They felt their relationship with nature acutely, experiencing it in a far different fashion than you do yours. They felt that it was the larger expression of their own moods and temperament, the materialization of self-events that were too vast to be contained within the flesh of any one individual or any group of individuals. [...]

They also felt that they were themselves, however; that as humans [they were] the manifestation of the larger expression of nature that was too splendid to be contained alone within nature’s framework, that nature needed them — that is, men — to give it another kind of voice. When men spoke they spoke for themselves; yet because they felt so a part of the natural environment they spoke for nature also, and for all of its creatures.

[...] He felt that nature expressed for him the vast power of his own emotions. [...]

[...] You felt a shaky foundation. You felt that your talent was giving you but a shaky foundation or basis within economic and social realities.

[...] This will also be felt in his dream book, however.

[...] You felt that if your hand were surer you would be better recompensed. [...]

You made large attempts to close yourself off from deep emotion, in reaction against your mother’s emotionalism, and largely because you felt emotionalism was false. [...]

Ruburt felt like neighborly contact several times earlier that day. He felt that you would go along, but on your own would prefer no company. [...] He felt proud of himself, at ease with the company, and he spoke of matters he considered important. [...]

[...] I wrote them because I’ve been becoming increasingly concerned about the slowness of her progress—or, to put it another way, because I felt that beliefs must still be operating in the background to account for the slowness of her progress. [...]

[...] At the same time, she said she’d felt pretty good today. [...]

[...] She’s written her own account of the event, so I’ll just note here that at the end of the visit, she spontaneously felt like standing up and walking normally—an impulse that she hasn’t been aware of for a number of years, but is so normal to most people.)

[...] She felt a rather light sense of strain from the weekly routine, she said, and thought the change would be revitalizing. [...]

[...] She had very little to drink—two small glasses of wine, and felt recovered from her indisposition of the afternoon.

(During the long break I felt that people’s attention wandered. [...]

(Everyone present is sympathetic to the Seth experience of course, and as stated I felt Jane and I had given permission for Seth to speak. [...]

[...] Neurologically he became familiar to some extent with the stuff beneath language, the inner rhythms unexpressed, and felt the odd connections that exist between words and your sense of time. This confused him, for this was material directly felt but verbally inexpressible. [...]

[...] She felt somewhat disoriented, yet couldn’t explain very well in just what way. [...]

[...] He felt as if he had been on a long journey — and he was, though it was not a conscious one in the terms you recognize. [...]

[...] She also felt that Seth had translated some of those now-forgotten experiences into the session’s material.

[...] He felt it was necessary (underlined) to inhibit physical expression in order to concentrate all of his energies inward into his work. He felt it was necessary to inhibit physical mobility in order to facilitate deeper penetration into inner reality.

[...] In a strange way I now felt that I had the freedom to do anything I wanted to, whereas before I had been worrying considerably about the financial effects of my leaving the job. [...]

[...] I had been getting very angry lately however so I felt this was a prime reason. [...]

[...] He felt that the physical could be safely dispensed with, and did so by degrees. [...]

[...] When you felt at your best he felt accused. [...]

[...] To some extent he has always felt guilty at the work involved in your writing up the sessions, and when my book began he felt this twice as badly, you see. [...]

In other words, he felt that unless he was using his abilities fully, and was spiritually, creatively and psychically perfect, he should mar his physical performance. [...]

[...] It was not so much that Ruburt was jealous of my book, as it was that he felt he should distrust anything that came so easily.

[...] I felt it hard and round, perfectly normal in my astral hand. [...] For just another moment I felt the hardness, the bulk of that knob. [...]

[...] I found myself seeing Congress Park very clearly, for example, yet I wasn’t there yet, and my head kept throbbing in a way that wasn’t physical — as if I heard rather than felt the throbs. [...] My head felt full of a white light. [...]

[...] I felt no fear or panic. [...]

[...] I felt fully awake, aware of what I was doing and quite free and weightless. [...]

[...] First, my middle body felt depressed [or nonexistent] upon the bed. I then became aware that my left arm and hand felt itself to be some inches higher than my right arm and hand. Yet beneath both limbs I felt the presence of the bed. [...]

[...] It developed that while dictating she felt she was speaking rapidly. [...]

[...] She still felt that she had been speaking rapidly. [...]

[...] However, the feeling now became more pronounced, so that when I made a fist my fingers felt thicker, against a thicker palm, giving a feeling of restricted movement. [...]

[...] I used the massage on Jane’s head, neck, and back, and she said this helped the finger greatly, since she felt muscular activity in the body led to the finder’s turning color. [...]

[...] Jane said one of them was that she felt the changes in the finger take place as she lay on her left side while I changed the dressing, on her ulcer that afternoon. [...]

[...] Yesterday Jane felt very uncomfortable as she sat in her chair on the water cushion. [...]

[...] For creative, financial and other present reasons, however, he felt that stern disciplinary measures had to be taken.

[...] So if you had a job he felt you were sacrificing, but if you did not then he expected you to paint your best, and make the world take it, and pay for it.

[...] He felt that in a way he was doing this for both of you: that despite what you said, if you wanted to paint for a living, or rather, simply to paint and thereby live, you would take those chances that he was taking, and whatever consequences that followed.

[...] But in the old contract you had psychically made in this life, either of you would have done anything he felt, to paint and write and make the world accept what you did and pay for it.

[...] Considerable dropping down of right foot and top tendon: but as I walk, knees felt much softer, moving more, from hips too, felt funny but great....

[...] In this life, therefore, you always felt sorry for those you felt could not achieve, and often held back your own abilities or criticisms for that reason.

In that life women were expected to be decorative, and most of all compliant, so in his relationship to you, when Ruburt felt decorative or compliant, he felt you would have no use for him. [...]

[...] To some extent he felt it a comedown to be born as a woman (as Jane). [...]

You were the man again, so for some years he was confused because he felt himself to be, as a woman, in an inferior position to you.