“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(During argument sequence: surprised as anyone else at sudden pounding of hand [has been lacking in strength for some time—had no idea it could pound that hard]—did feel myself controlled by someone else; vivid, angry vital woman, engaged in an argument. I then stepped back, still retaining immediacy, reported—and purposefully became less involved. Note here I maintain more awareness than most mediums I believe—therefore necessity of learning how to protect myself, in such involvement. The break after 1st half hour served to encourage me, personally, that data was okay—before I continued. Greater involvement followed. Session in afternoon—café’s drawn but seen in through window gaps—

Now, although I admit I usually come to you with a voice like a musical thunder, with a voice that seems to weigh a thousand pounds, that seems to plop into the room, yet I can also come lightly as a leaf and be here when you do not know. [...]

[...] It is not physical pounds that weigh you down. [...]

[...] Truth keeps you sitting upright in your chairs and the blood pounding in your veins and allows me to come to this room. [...]

[...] With the experience furnished by the scale, they now estimated they used close to 90 pounds pressure to level the table, this being the moment of highest pressure during the evening. Several subsequent pressures were measured by using the scale on the tabletop, ranging from 30 to 50 pounds.

[...] A A obligingly built up the pressure again; pressing down, Carl saw that he used a hand pressure of 70 pounds, as measured by the scale, to get all three legs of the table back on the floor, whereas usually gravity would effortlessly draw the legs back to the floor when our fingertips were removed.

Badminton or pounding the pillow should definitely be started this week. [...]

You (to me) are also seeing what can happen when spontaneity is denied....The badminton or pillow-pounding allows for the expression of freedom, mobility and speed—the opportunity for it, and is therefore important.

(The heating man came in to pound on the unit and get us some heat. [...]

[...] Sitting in her rocker, she began to rapidly pound her feet on the floor. [...]

[...] One neck spot got a good reaction, her head pounding back and forth against the pillow. [...]

[...] Beneath our living room windows, a carpenter pounded on an outside door frame as he repaired damage done to the ground floor of the house by the flood of last June [see the 613th session in Chapter One]. [...]

[...] When anything didn’t check out to my satisfaction, I felt as though I weighed 450 pounds and was gaining a pound an hour. [...]

[...] A few moments later we heard her begin to pound away as she pulverized a vitamin C tablet in its packet. [...]

[...] I then rubbed a second spot just to the right of the first one, and again her head pounded back and forth against the pillow. [...]

[...] “See?” Then her left leg jerked up and down quite strongly, the heel pounding into the mattress. [...]

(Here, by way of humorous emphasis, Jane grinned and pounded on the table.)

(Again Jane pounded on my writing table for emphasis.)

[...] (Jane pounded the tabletop for emphasis, eyes wide and dark.) Any survival that was based upon the survival of the physically-oriented ego alone would be as shallow as a paper cutout. [...]

[...] I’d finally decided that the ache wasn’t because I’d been lifting her physically—all 82 pounds of her—but because of the medical bills we’d received today. [...]

(Pause at 8:05.) My 82 pounds of flesh were hauled, dragged, pulled, and stretched by good-natured but often impatient strangers—nurses and orderlies and aides—and the most private of my physical processes became a matter of public record. [...]

[...] The pillow pounding was simply meant to allow physical expression that would vary on different days, and would open the body to the idea of the normal exertion of such energy. [...]

[...] You weigh so many pounds, tilt your head at such-and-such an angle to peer upward at the skyscape, and physically speaking, you can be categorized.

Now these are my week’s suggestions, and I want, beside what I have just given you, a ten-minute badminton session daily, or pounding of the pillow for a lesser time—but one or the other. [...]

An individual, and I am speaking in your terms now, again to make a point: an individual is the 60 or 70-odd years of his earthly existence, as much as he is the 150-odd pounds that he may be.

[...] He looked supercool in his cut-off denim shorts; his long hair curled into natural corkscrews, his light durable frame seeming to luxuriate in the heat while my light durable frame turned into a sponge that added ten pounds of fatigue.