“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] When you saw him try to get up he knew you loved him, but the frown was what he saw. He was always trying to hide from you. Part of it was his projection because he felt you thought he was so stupid for having anything wrong at all, so the more he saw you frown the stupider he felt, and the more guilty. [...]

[...] When Seven was finished Dialogues began, and our book was in process. Ruburt was encouraged to express his feeling, and emotionally. [...]

Eleanor (Friede) represented a different kind of framework, in which business was business, while art was respected, and where after all matters of great money might be involved. Ruburt was rather proud of handling his own business affairs. [...]

(Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptist, was a cousin of Christ’s mother, Mary. John baptized Christ at the beginning of his ministry in A.D. 26 to 27, when he was about thirty. John was already active in his own ministry, and often called himself a “forerunner of one who would be nobler and stronger.” Shortly after he baptized Jesus, John was imprisoned by Herod Antipas in the fortress Machaerus, near the Dead Sea.

(John the Baptist was born between 8 and 4 B.C., and died in A.D. 26 to 27. Jesus Christ was born between 8 and 5 B.C., and died in A.D. 29 to 30. Paul [Saul] of Tarsus was born between A.D. 5 and 15 and died in A.D. 67 to 68.

(In the literature I’ve been reading on the subject, the Zealot leader was always called the Teacher of Righteousness. The interpretation of scanty records, including the Dead Sea Scrolls, has given rise to debate, but it appears he was either Menahem ben Judah, who was killed in A.D. 66 in Jerusalem, or a nephew, who survived and succeeded him.)

[...] At the end of the reading Jane closed her eyes; when she opened them again she was out of the trance. She said she was subjectively aware of the gestures she executed with her left hand, yet she felt the hand was not really hers at the time. She felt that it was a fatter hand, belonging to a much heavier arm. Father Trainor, in the photograph we have of him, was a very heavyset man. Bill Gallagher felt that while she was reading Jane spoke with a brogue. Father Trainor was Irish.

(In trying to be objective, I can say that perhaps the change I became aware of was partly observed, partly subjective. [...] Whereas I had not observed any changes in the first half of the session, I now thought her features lost some of their feminine characteristics and became more angular and drawn, as though a masculine presence was making itself seen deliberately. [...] I felt that possibly I was being observed by a masculine personality through the eyes, deliberately. The sense of involvement with a personality other than Jane’s usual one, which I know so well, was quite strong. I was, actually, more concerned with trying to decipher what change I was observing, than wondering if there was a change to be seen.

(I felt an immediate intimate involvement now that was quite new to me in the sessions. I would say this subjective feeling was enhanced because Jane was not actively pacing about as she used to with her eyes open, but sitting comfortably at table with me. I also knew that she was in a deeper trance. The direct stare of her eyes, very large, very dark, was at times disconcerting. This effect of course was heightened, now, because I began to feel that I noticed a change in her features.

(Watching the mechanic struggle with the car, I felt sure he was not familiar enough with the work to know what he was doing. [...] This was at a time when Seth was beginning to fill us in on the power of expectation; Jane insisted that the car would be ready when we went back for it. [...] When we went back for it an hour later it was indeed ready. The station mechanic told us he was surprised that he had been able to fix it. [...]

(“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.

(“and with an occasion in which something was not appreciated.” This at once reminded me of a most definite event, involving Jane and me, that was not appreciated. It took place at the same time I purchased membership in AAA, and the locale of this unappreciated event was a gasoline station directly across the street from the MCI building. Our car was the subject, and this material is well covered in the notes in the 81st session for August 26,1964. [...]

[...] Ruburt was telepathically aware of the arrangement, though not at a conscious level. The smiling portrait that Jane saw was your work in a way. Ruburt was aware of the arrangement for the demonstration, but was also somewhat alarmed at the particular way you would choose to interpret the experience. The smiling portrait was to reassure her — Jane now rather than Ruburt. [...]

[...] At the same time Jane began to describe the smile she perceived in the painting; I could see the painting well enough when she asked me to check it, although my vision effect was still building. My suggestions were very beneficial, though, and by session time at 9:05 I realized that not only had my experience gone as “far” as it was going to go, but also that it was on the retreat. By 9:15 the last traces of it were gone and my vision was clear.

[...] I was most anxious that Seth explain all. And he was right: by 10:30 I was much better. I caught up on the notes finally and told Jane I was ready for the session to continue. [...]

I was quite nervous before the next session. I’d had a particularly trying day at the gallery, and Rob was tired, too. Yet Rob woke up quickly enough, for I was to speak for Seth for over two hours. This session was quite startling for another reason also—the information itself was quite as surprising as the way I was saying it.

Then, however, all of this was new to us. For all I knew, Seth was a secondary personality himself, and at this point we could have dropped the sessions. Though we found them intriguing, we certainly weren’t convinced that Seth was someone who had survived death. Most likely, we thought, he was a very lively portion of my own subconscious. [...] There was no evidence of excessive emotionalism in the material, though: no repressed hates, prejudices, or desires. [...]

Rob said it was as if I were reading from some invisible manuscript. [...] Whatever was happening, I was going to be on my feet so I could have a good running start for the door in case I got worried.

The first time, the sensation was not as strong as the next two times. [...] I waited quietly, and in a moment or two the sensation was gone. I was balanced on the arm of our davenport, talking to our company. I had the odd feeling that the sensation was related both to the subject of conversation, and to some kind of message or communication I felt within me.

While writing out this statement, I’m reminded that I experienced a milder version of the same sensation last month, while I was working at my part-time job in the art department of a local greeting card company. I was alone in the art room, eating lunch at my desk, when the feeling swept over me. There was no warning or pain, but the surprise doubled me over my desk. I was frightened, thinking it might be some kind of an attack then, but it passed quickly and did not return.

Your feeling of a door or funnel is quite legitimate, however, and if you felt attacked because of the onrush of data that seemed to crash down upon you, it was only because of your inability to control the volume, so to speak. You switched yourself off automatically because the experience frightened you, but the whole affair was beneficial since it gave you some first-hand experience with pure inner sensory data. It was unfortunate that it was so uncontrolled, but I’m afraid this can often be expected in the beginning. [...]

(The 68th envelope object was a poem Jane wrote to me on the evening of July 3,1966. It was written with a dark pen on a sheet of yellow paper, not punched, and the size of this page. The sheet was folded as indicated above, then enclosed between the usual two pieces of Bristol and inserted into the usual double envelopes. The back side of the sheet was blank. [...]

[...] It was not yet dark. [...] This surprised Jane, for she saw that Dick was angry with Barbara for teasing him about marriage. Also, Jane felt that being asked to share a drink with the couple was a gesture, and that when she accepted Dick was not happy about it.

(“A distant connection in the past, with a gathering that was formal, I believe… not certain here… with dancing as at a wedding reception perhaps. [...] As stated, Jane was quite embarrassed at the teasing Dick had taken from Barbara about marriage the evening of July 3, and by Dick’s obvious anger. [...] This was a formal occasion for which Jane and I were dressed formally, and at the lengthy reception afterwards there was much dancing, etc.

Seth’s personality was expressing itself much more freely now that it was released from the board, particularly after the surprising fourteenth session. [...] I was nervous before we started, wondering whether Seth would come through or not. In those days I was always afraid that I’d go into trance, open my mouth, and—nothing! [...] Besides, I wasn’t even aware of how I knew when Seth was ready. We began sessions at 9 P.M. Five minutes before nine, I’d get that feeling again, that I was going to leap from a high diving board into a deep pool—and without knowing for sure whether or not I could swim.

[...] The remark about the change in my features was included in the notes, of course, but it was otherwise forgotten until a year later when it was brought rather forcibly to mind. When the session was over, my own voice was still fresh and clear, with no trace of the earlier difficulties. [...]

[...] I knew that he was concerned about me, but also tremendously interested in the material Seth had been giving. [...] The sense of another independent personality was stronger than it had ever been, and so I decided to continue. By now it was after 10:30. [...]

(The note was from Billie, Jerry’s stepmother, who had died in 1965. [...] A further puzzle was due to the fact that for some time before her death Billie could not write, so Jerry was curious as to just when the note had been written.

She says she knew, you see, when she wrote this, but it was no coincidence that it was found now. [...] Exact voice description.) She says, and this is my impression: that’s no lie, as if that was an expression of hers. [...]

[...] The gesture was so rapid and violent that I too jumped. I was instantly concerned lest Jane physically injure her hand, so hard were the blows, several now in succession. It is here that Jane was someone else, at least briefly; Jerry later said she had the same feeling, and that Jane’s gestures and voice and manner, including head shaking and language, were those of Billie.

([Joel:] “It was war. It was the instinct to survive. [...] We lived in a beautiful, but in the sense that this world has plenty, that there was nothing there. [...] There was summer and there was famine and there were some pretty bad winters, but we were a success. [...] You held yourselves up and thought you were so great and inadvertently or intentionally you began to destroy us at first and then it became more of a pattern because then you sensed that your survival was hinging on it too. [...]

([Sue:] “I had a feeling when you first started getting those impressions on her that I was in on this in some capacity. I have a feeling that I was only about 2 years old or other and that they got the kids last, or at least me, and I have the feeling that the house was pretty much on fire. [...] I don’t think as a child I knew anything that was involved that was going on. [...]

([Joel:] “It was the only news that there was. [...] The only gossip was whose crop failed or whose cow had a ...”

[...] By the time this first change happened in my trance states, I’d already had my first out-of-body experience, and following Seth’s instructions I was having clairvoyant experiences during daily exercise periods. But I felt in control of these, while Seth was in control of sessions, and to me this made a difference. I agreed to the new trance procedure, but it was still some time before it became the rule rather than the exception. The trance was a deeper one, though, and the material launched into more complicated subjects. It was also during this time that Seth started removing my glasses just before he began to speak.

[...] After having sessions for a year with my eyes closed, I suddenly began opening them again, though the trance was even deeper than before. There was quite a noticeable alteration of muscle pattern and facial gestures—an overall personality change. The expression in the eyes was not only un-Jane-like. [...] To all intents and purposes, Seth was comfortably ensconced in my physical body. [...]

Finally, though the editor was for the book, his publisher turned it down. I was really disappointed at losing the sale. [...] Besides, I felt that the very fact of the sessions was psychologically fascinating, and brought up questions that were answered in the material itself. [...]

[...] During the proceedings I felt that I was the deceased woman, reliving an argument she once had with her husband. As the woman, I banged my fist up and down so hard on our table that Rob was afraid I’d break my hand. The argument was a violent one. The other personality took over rather completely, and Rob was actually concerned for my physical safety. I was able to “pull out” without any strained muscles or bruised bones—she was obviously used to a much larger and stronger body than mine—but since then Rob and I have been cautious.

If it was subconscious role-taking on my part, then it was a darned good job, and if telepathy was involved, then it was a darned good job too, because my student had to check some of the facts with others. [...]

[...] “He was exceptionally bright,” Jim said. “He was fantastic, and I’m not just saying that because he was our child. From the start he was way above average, quick in his reactions, so much so that we were almost frightened in a way. [...]

[...] Later in my own notes I wrote, “… tremendous energy seemed to flow through me, with the definite certainty—thank God—that this was coming from beyond me, and was automatically translated into words at my end. [...] The sense of contact was undeniably there. The feeling I had was that I really was in touch with some all encompassing reality.”

The voice was much softer than usual. [...] “The development in the last session was latent from our first session, but it was a development that could or could not have occurred. [...] The points where the [Seth] voice was loudest and most powerful—these points often represented openings through which the development could occur. For various reasons, however, that method was not used. [...]

The transition from Seth’s deep voice and lively gestures was very startling to Phil, who hadn’t heard the other personality speak before. Now my body was almost puppetlike, and my face was devoid of expression. [...] There was no indication that anything else was about to happen, however.

[...] I thought she was in a light trance state and Jane later agreed that she was, that she felt very relaxed. Often as I spoke to her I told her she would have full memory of what transpired when the session was over. When it was over, she told me her memory of parts of the session was somewhat hazy— reinforcing the idea that she was hypnotized, if somewhat imperfectly, and that my control was not all it will be in future sessions.

(I believe Jane was a little nervous at the idea of being hypnotized, since I mentioned it at supper time. I was also as 9 PM approached, but not overly so. [...] The fact that Jane was a willing, even eager, subject was of course a great help.

(The first was that her troubles began in Florida; that it was her fault we left Sayre to join her father in Florida, and that I had not wanted to leave my parents. [I had cried in the car as we drove out of Sayre on the way south, but had, I thought, regarded this as natural enough at the time.] Jane told me that it was her fault we had chased around the country, that her spontaneity had done nothing but get us into trouble. [...] Her father was to help us out financially also, but did not do so.]

(“That can’t be,” I said, seizing upon what I thought was a very good point. [...] It happened that a TV program was showing segments of various sports [the sound was off] at the moment. [...] My concern was that she become able to forget such beliefs, to revel in her body’s innate capacities without fear.

[...] However, by this time Jane was in the process of straining, grunting and groaning as she moved her entire body to some degree. [...] “I don’t know what the hell I was doing, but I used the [right] knee a lot more, I know that....” She was afraid people would start coming in to do her vitals, and see her moving; she feared that once she started a series of movements, she couldn’t cut them off right away if someone entered 330. [...]

[...] She was also noisy about it, telling herself “Shhh.” It was sort of humorous. “I didn’t know what the hell I was doing,” she said again. [...]

[...] Sally and Rose said that something was happening to my left hand, which was held out; arm resting on chair rest. (Don’t know if I felt the subjective feeling before or after their comments, but no suggestions as to hand was given by me, and I asked no questions, sitting with eyes closed, concentrating, rather in good trance, but aware of their comments. Sally asked me a direct question, and I couldn’t answer.) Here everyone in the room with the exception of Theodore who was in a poor position, reported the following:

Watching the hand in transition, changes apparent as they happened, joints and knuckles becoming very thick and large, flesh seeming to disappear so that hand became thinner otherwise,hand taking on the look of a very old woman’s, exceedingly bony, with the large, they said, exceptionally large, joints obvious; Rose frightened; Sally said the hand looked so stiff that it was here she asked me if I could bend the fingers, it was here I couldn’t answer her but did try to bend the hand; and at this point decided to give myself suggestions to come out of trance and for hand to return to normal. Afterwards, a comparison of hand as it was normally, with what they saw. [...] My own hands are bony—but no, Rose said that my hand now was the normal hand of a young woman and it definitely had been an old woman’s hand; a very old woman’s hand. [...]

[...] Without telling them what I was trying to do, I concentrated on making my aura brighter, saying to myself, fire bright. Almost immediately Rose, Sally and Rachel said that the aura was suddenly extremely bright; did this several times. [...] They said that, alone, it was white and quite wide and easily noticeable. [...]

[...] I was in the living room of the apartment with Alice and Clark, looking back toward a kitchen finished in brown wood paneling. [...] He was wearing a chamois-type fall jacket with knitted cuffs. He seemed to me to be taller and heavier than I had known him to be, which was about my own size. The amazing thing to me was that Larry was frantically busy at a wringer-type washing machine that was gushing forth a stream of water from its outlet, into a bucket that was almost full.

[...] I did not actually see Jane but knew she was there at the party. [...] I was now dressed, and it was daytime. [...] Father was wearing a familiar brown hat, and a long brown topcoat, incongruously enough, and he was his present age. His face was very smooth-looking and pink-cheeked, looking very healthy, and he seemed to pedal past me quite easily, as a youth would do.

[...] She was very sympathetic to me, and I may have forgotten the reasons. I believe she was wearing a nightgown but am not positive. [...] I was going to a theatre, a big one, on the corner of Keystone and Mohawk, though actually none exists there. I was now in striped pajamas. [I have none like this.] I was well covered by the pajamas, which were loose and baggy, and not at all nude.

It was a kind of avalanche, however. This was simply because Ruburt did not know how to handle the new conditions. [...] I realized what was going to occur, and I could have helped, shielding Ruburt to some degree. However the experience was more valuable left alone in any case, since you see what the conditions can be, and you can choose for yourselves.

[...] Our interpretation here was that the swirling and leaves data referred to the mention of a garden in the poem used as object. [...] Also according to Seth after break however, the swirling was to have led Jane to frosting. The birthday cake we gave Bill Gallagher on July 1st was frosted. The poem used as object was written for this occasion.

[...] Later she said it was her deepest trance ever. [...] She called me once again; as I went to her she burst into tears; her crying was strong and highly charged; it seemed obvious she was responding emotionally to an experience of Barbara’s of an early age; Jane seemed to have attained a state beyond words. [...]

[Seth:] In a previous life he was your son by blood. [...] He came back to tell you there was no death—you would not listen, hear or believe. This time he came back and was a son to you. [...] He came to tell you there was no death. [...] This was his last reincarnation. [...]

[...] There was a girl in that past life. [...] There was an afternoon in this life between 4 and 5 years old, and this child visited with her parents. [...] She was his wife in the past life, when he died at 32. [...] Death by water in those days was an honor, death by land a disgrace. [...]

[...] Main purpose was with you for you had been Mother. Death was instantaneous. There was some recognition on your part. [...]