“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(At 4:40, she was near tears when I asked why her psyche hadn’t risen up to protect her when it became obvious that she was heading for deep trouble with the symptoms. She said her psyche did rise up to protect her many times — otherwise she’d have died, of course. She mentioned various periods of improvement — her work on her unfinished and unpublished autobiography, From This Rich Bed; her published novel, The Education of Oversoul Seven, and so on. But each time a new book came out she got worse. Near tears, she said that she didn’t have to get any worse when a new book comes out — what’s left? She agreed with me that she now has the ultimate protection of the hospital.

(The symptoms — and now the hospital — protected her from criticism, eliminated book tours, the whole bit. Jane got scared with Sumari in the beginning, just as she had at the start of the sessions in 1963, but she was also very curious and turned on. She was also frightened at the tests in sessions, of being wrong, and of the seance. Thought she’d be called a hysterical woman, an exhibitionist, and so on. Being right didn’t carry the weight that being wrong did. Very good. There were tears at various times with today’s material.

(In no time at all Jane’s Seth voice had moved closer and closer to tears.)

[...] 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 love you,” I told her, and wiped away those tears. [...]

[...] I’d only wiped away Jane’s tears, and offered some words of comfort, then forgotten all about the thing. [...]

[...] There is nothing degrading in tears. [...] The rain refreshes the ground and tears can refresh the soul when depressions are freed to follow their natural course. Then, indeed, they flow away in tears and the soul is refreshed. [...] So can tears refresh the land of your psyche. [...]

[...] You think that tears are cowardly. [...] You consider tears “degrading.” [...]

[...] Her tears put you on the defensive, he felt. He even felt you considered tears contemptible.

[...] You would end up, I imagine, tearing down a wall.

[...] You would definitely however end up tearing down a wall, and I believe that you might add another room, or want to possibly in the future, to one side. [...]

[...] She was near tears. [...]

(Long pause.) It may be far more pleasant to be good-humored all of the time — but in Ruburt’s situation the fairly infrequent periods of blueness do indeed operate therapeutically, so that he is able to express those feelings through tears, and therefore relieve the body of expressing the same feelings through additional symptoms.

[...] These are then released and expressed through tears or through a recognized period of blueness. [...]

[...] I remember that once I woke up in bed, after midnight, and burst into tears as I thought about you. [...] But for a long time—months—I lived with tears just beneath the surface, you might say, as I wondered what was going to happen to us, why you were so sick, what we’d done wrong all those years, and so forth. [...]

While you were
sleeping,
all the cupboards
of the earth
were filled.
Mother Earth
sought out each
need.

While you were
weeping,
your tears fell
as sweet rain
drops on small
parched hills
that rise in worlds
you cannot see,
though you are known
there.

While you were
sleeping,
Mother Earth
filled all the
cupboards of your
flesh
to overflowing.
Not one atom went
uncomforted
in worlds that
are yours,
but beyond your
knowing.

[...] My eyes brimmed over with tears. [...]

The idiot cries.
The tears slosh inside his boots.
The people say he’s bats
Because he weeps
When the police shoot down the starlings
Aiming at the tall-eyed trees.

“Do unto others, I tell you.”
He wanted to say more
But they carted him off.
The good people laughed.
On the ground was a puddle
Of the idiot’s tears.

She’d almost tear the apartment apart looking for the threatening letter that she was sure had come in the mail. [...]

[...] There were tears before lunch. [...]

(“I guess I’ve let the fear get into everything,” she said, tearfully.

[...] It does not need to be watered with tears, with pledges, or told ten times a minute to grow. [...]

[...] He talked of selling the land and tearing down the terrace as a projected act of self-mutilation, mutilating something that he loved, to do penance for his sins, in his light.

[...] Expressed in such a manner, they may indeed elicit tears on Ruburt’s part — and perhaps on your own as well.

[...] 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. [...]

[...] Later, when I could be alone, my tears began to come. [...]

[...] This was all part of our free-association material today, May 2. She vehemently expressed her feelings, with tears, that if she wanted privacy, being in the hospital wasn’t the way to get it. [...]

[...] Practically speaking in your world, there is going to be some wear and tear. [...]

lord let me remember how it was
when i nuzzled the air in the morning
and thought i could wiggle a distant leaf
just as i moved my own ears and toes.
i thought that i caused rain to fall
just as the tears from my own eyes
wet my cheeks,
and that my thoughts turned into clouds
that circled the top of my head.

[...] Life is seen as “a valley of tears” — almost as a low-grade infection from which the soul can be cured only by death.