“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] “He had me real far out,” she said later. [...]

[...] John said it was okay for me to note here that he agreed with the data. [...]

What do you have new to tell me?

[...] It’s of one of my imaginary male heads, and I began it a week ago, following Seth’s material on art for me in the private session for April 9. [See Note 1 for the last session.] I explained to Jane that even while it’s incomplete, the painting contains improvements that I can already tell will be developed further in the next one. [...]

(To me:) Your knowledge knows how to flow through the techniques you have learned, to use them and become part of them, so that a painting emerges with a spontaneous wisdom. [...]

[...] Do you follow me?

[...] You follow me here.

[...] Are you following me?

[...] My friend Joseph (as Seth calls me) brought up a point concerning this before our session. [...]

[...] They also gave me several questions for Seth to answer in his own book, if he chose to do so. [...]

(Smile.) It is a good question, and you had better give me a moment to explain it clearly.

[...] She looked at Bill and me, scribbling away, and smiled. [...]

(After the Gallaghers had left, Jane told me that whatever ability she possesses certainly operates at its best when there are witnesses. [...]

[...] When I got to 330 Jane told me that Karina had been moved to a rest home in Wellsburg, a small community a few miles east of Elmira. [...]

[...] At 4:13 Jane resumed with material she’d told me yesterday that Seth planned to cover today.)

[...] Jane remembered to tell me that last night two students had watched as an aide checked her catheter and Foley. [...]

[...] “Spare me,” I said, only half joking. [...]

[...] Do you follow me?

[...] Do you follow me?

Your mother sat in the dream before a higher bar, symbolizing your own inner conviction, based on early rather puritanical bases, that your mother and her actions should be judged, and a child’s natural but unfortunate vindictiveness: “She who has hurt me, particularly if my mother and a female, shall meet justice.” [...]

[...] Instead of having your mother say “He hit me in the chest,” and in order to punish yourself through your identification with your father, instead you translated the words to “He has a spot on his lungs,” therefore punishing symbolically both your father and yourself for the violence.

(Jane, washing her face in the next room, agreed with me. [...]

[...] You can ask me more questions or end the session as you prefer.

Now: Dictation: Ruburt and Joseph (as Seth calls Jane and me) have always seen themselves in a one-to-one relationship with nature and with the universe. [...]

[...] “I was getting a lot of other stuff, too, but it doesn’t belong in the book so Seth didn’t say it,” Jane told me, “about different people we met during the flood thing.” [...]

[...] If you were in Ruburt’s position, you would be more willingly regular than he; but my dear Joseph, your critical sense would block me much more than his, particularly in details. [...]

I will here add Joseph, that you did indeed paint an excellent likeness of me, as I was, and as my entity is. [...]

[...] The idea had come to me some days ago that Jane’s foot troubles were directly related to her fears of being accepted in a controversial role. [...]

[...] When Jane read her material of this afternoon to me, I thought she likened the Sinful Self’s renewal to reincarnation, meaning that she thought this renewal might account for many of our overt ideas of reincarnation—that at least some of our ideas about reincarnation were based upon our intuitive knowledge of the return of portions of one’s self to that earlier state of innocence—a rebirth, in other words, that we might translate into the idea of physical incarnation. [...]

[...] I am going to trip here or here or there, or someone is going to trip me up, or certainly someone will throw a stone in my path.” [...]

[...] Someone will most likely shove against me to mar that particular motion.”

Give me a moment. (Pause.) The idea of the ad (to sell paintings) is a good one. [...]

Give me a moment. [...]

Now (humorously), I am here, more or less in a recording or in the original, whenever you want me—but I do want to reassure you both that you are indeed doing well.

[...] Your Wednesdays or Saturdays are meaningless to me.