“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

You dealt strongly with martial music and, in these terms, the music was used as a method of discipline rather than for freedom or spontaneity. You found that music had many purposes and uses and could be used in many ways, not only to inspire but to incite. To inspire love or to incite to violence. 1832 there to 1856, a very short life, under I believe a czar, and during this life, you met your present husband who was a young girl, the brother (sister?) of one of your students. This brief life taught you strongly, however, that music, as a portion of creativity, could be violently used by the state and by authority. You were at the time, extremely dogmatic, and you did not allow yourself full freedom with your instrument or with your life. You needed to know, however, the powers of music and the ways in which it could be used so that you would use it wisely, so there is no need to brood.

Now, you are here for one particular reason this evening whether you know it or not, and it is because you knew our new friends, the Greek twins (Valerie and Vanessa) and so you came when they attended class. Now you were at one time, in the same area given as for the twins, and give us a moment here. You were then a music teacher, teaching the flute mainly, but in the back of your mind you had a great plan which you were never able to bring to fruition in that particular life. And you dreamed a great dream and the dream had to do with an instrument called the piano, and you wondered how you could bring this instrument about and how it could be made and how it would work. And yet in your mind you heard the music. And when you taught the flute, in the back of your mind always, was the idea of the piano. So you tried to make the flute do things that the flute could never do.

In the third quarter of your life there was some strong physical difficulty that prevented you from plying your trade, and during this period more and more you began to emphasize in your mind the reality of this strange instrument called the piano, and in your mind you composed for it. You were connected with a man named Aurelius. He was a statesman and you were for some time connected with his household. Your music was your god and your purpose for living. You gave it everything that you had, and in 18th-century Germany you became a well-known pianist. Now give us a moment. The name appears to be—the last name Ramburg, the first name, I believe, though I am not as certain, Marc. Now your middle name was Aurelius and it was a throwback. There was a small town near Hamburg and here you were a teacher of music, and a pianist in a school that seemed to be connected with a gymnasium or the school was called a gymnasium.

(“A connection with music.” [...] Doug, who helped me author the object, is not musical; however both his parents are professional musicians; both are teachers; Betts teaching music as well as other subjects. Loren does not teach music anymore. For many years he was a pianist in a dance band and taught music at the same time.

(“A connection with strong musical interests. The item belongs to, or did belong to, someone with musical interests. [...] Doug’s parents, Loren and Betts, have strong musical interests. [...]

A connection with strong musical interests. The item belongs to, or did belong to, someone with musical interests. [...]

There are many kinds of music. I could say: “Music is triumphant,” or “Music is tragic.” [...] The music itself would have its own sweep and power, and would indeed be beautiful beyond all concepts of good and evil.

[...] All of the counterparts alive as contemporaries then form, together, a musical composition in what you think of as a present; and once that multidimensional song is struck then its past ripples out behind it, so to speak, and its future sings “ahead.” [...] Yet all are in the same overall composition, in “time,” so that time itself serves as the scale (gesturing) in which the [musical] number is written — chosen as a matter of organization, focus, and framework.

[...] They were, in fact, inaudibly a part of each heard melody, and those unheard variations added silent structure and pacing to the physically actualized music.

[...] To do with musical scores of some kind.

He could write music. [...]

A musical talent but without the discipline or desire to perfect the gift. [...]

[...] She said the music when it started really bothered her, although she didn’t leave the trance state. Jane said that when Seth deepened the trance it was as though the music was turned off. In actuality the music was still blaring away from below.

[...] Music from the apartment below us had begun to blare out loudly; loud enough so I could distinguish the words to the dance tunes. [...]

[...] The loud music from downstairs had stopped. [...]

[...] I think that I could make music my career. I am musically gifted. [...] I have not attended to my music lately, since I am so confused. [...]

[...] The music from above was louder than ever, but she seemed to be oblivious to it. “Then I went up like in a spiral through that room upstairs with all that music and energy, and shot out above it. [...]

[...] Now the tenant in the apartment above our living room began to play rock music very loudly, but Jane seemed undisturbed as she talked to me. [...]

[...] “I got too conscious of what I was doing,” Jane said, “and of the music upstairs. [...]

He turned on a small recorder; classical music with a tinny quality swirled through the room. He bowed his dark head for just a moment then lifted it, those soft eyes now … softer and harder at the same time; his hands moved in rhythm with the music; his whole body was a marvel of motion; shoulders, head, arms, chest — his whole trunk, responding to the music. [...]

Now you have some latent inclinations of a musical nature as I mentioned earlier having to do with past-life experiences. [...] You can use your abilities to hear the kind of music with which you were one time acquainted. This music is part of your experience though you have forgotten. Now: when you hear this music, in your mind try to translate it into color and design. [...]

[...] Motion does have music though you may not hear it. The very motion of atoms and molecules has music. [...] You can also suggest dreams in which you will hear the sort of music, with which you were acquainted. [...]

Now the sound of the music will suggest colors to you and the colors themselves may appear in your mind as designs. [...]

Music exists and can be played on a phonograph. [...] But you do not expect music to come from a camera. You do not expect a phonograph to take pictures, yet while you are listening to music from a phonograph this does not mean, even to you, that cameras do not record sight. [...] You are expecting them to act like a camera that can pick up music, and because the camera does not pick up music you are saying that music does not exist.

[...] To insist upon evidence in terms of outside sensual data is as ridiculous a notion as to expect a camera to play music.

At the same time, using the rather weak analogy of music as compared to inner data, you are refusing to use the phonograph. [...]

[...] Now rock music began to blare out from one of the apartments below us. [...]

[...] To begin with, Jane left her excellent trance easily, saying she had barely heard the music. [...]

[...] Here the music was even louder, thundering out from the first floor apartment.

[...] You could compensate for this however strongly enough (pause), in your occupation, in that when words were mixed with music you followed the rhythm and could speak clearly and well.

[...] Stories of events, a musical newscaster.

[...] You did very well in a group with music, but not individually.

[...] Music is somewhat of a conditioning factor as far as Ruburt is concerned. Although he knows nothing of music now, he was once proficient in it. [...]

[...] Jane particularly missed the channel for music only, since she was used to working by this in the mornings.

The music is more important to Ruburt than either of you know. [...]

[...] Jane came out of trance rather quickly; her eyes remained dark, her manner subdued, and she said: “Yeah, I’m pretty Seth yet, but I’m also conscious of that music.” The music was still noisy from below us.

(Loud music was blaring up now from the apartment below us.)

[...] Sitting down a bit later she said: “I’m trying to get back in,” meaning trance, “but that music downstairs bothers me.” [...]

Music is an exterior representation, and an excellent one, of the life-giving inner sounds that act therapeutically within your body all the time. (See Chapter Five.) The music is a conscious reminder of those deeper inner rhythms, both of sound and of motion. Listening to music that you like will often bring images into your mind that show you your conscious beliefs in different form.

[...] On the other hand technology brings within your reach the great therapy of music; this activates the inner living cells of your body, stimulates the energy of the inner self and helps to unite the conscious mind with the other portions of your being.

(“Some distant connection with an opera, opera house or music.” [...] At this time Jane said one of the abstracts being offered to the doctor reminds her of music. [...]

[...] I believe the music referred to Ruburt’s subjective feelings about one painting (we had hesitated to credit this when we interpreted the data), and also to some musical leanings on the dentist’s part, or his family.

Some distant connection with an opera, opera house or music. [...]

[...] You want to know where you came into the musical production, so to speak. (Pause.) I use a musical analogy here, if a simple one, to point out that we are also dealing with frequencies of perception. [...]

(All with a rolling intensity:) I must of necessity tell this story in serial terms, but the world and all of its creatures actually come together like some spontaneously composed, ever-playing musical composition in which the notes themselves are alive and play themselves, so that the musicians and the notes are one and the same, the purpose and the performance being one, with each note played continuing to strike all of its own probable versions, forming all of its own probable compositions while at the same time taking part in all of the themes, melodies, and notes of the other compositions—so that each note, striking, defines itself, and yet also exists by virtue of its position in the composition as a whole.

[...] One of them plays an accordion, the other two hold sheets of music on which the scores are clearly visible. Note the mention of music also in the data on pages 274 and 276. [...]

[...] (Envelope lowered to lap.) And with music, or marks that suggest notes. [...]

(We think the above data also leads into the next: “And with music, or marks that suggest notes. [...]

(10:26) A child may be born with a strong talent for music, for example. [...] Before he [or she] is old enough to begin any kind of training, he will know on other levels the probable direction that music will take during his lifetime. [...] There is great flexibility, however, and according to individual purposes many such children will also be acquainted with music of the past. [...]

(“Connection with music”, reminds me that I heard music while in the AAA office; the music was piped throughout the new building by a public address system. Jane and I are well aware of this because a friend of ours worked in another office in the MCI building, and remarked often on this piped music, which she disliked but was forced to listen to all day on the job. In addition, the AAA office was below ground level and without windows, and my personal opinion was that the music was some kind of compensation for not being able to see daylight.

[...] Connection with music, and with an ace. [...]