Results 581 to 600 of 1884 for stemmed:was
[...] The interruption tonight was not any kind of a shock to Jane; she left the trance state easily, although I noticed her eyes were very dark when they first opened. It was Jane who answered the door however. [...]
[...] Her voice was average, her pace average; her eyes were to open after a few paragraphs, and she was now smoking.)
[...] The book was written by other portions of the self than the ego, and it was not written at the ego’s wish alone.
(No envelope test was held during the session.
[...] Quite a bit of emotion was attached to the memories. [...] “She was, what do you call it, a pathological liar....” [...]
(It was 8:20 when Venice left, and we sat for the session. The noises from the fireplace had been quite loud earlier, but now all was quiet. [...]
[...] There is no doubt that he was mistreated. Ruburt’s mind was concerned with the larger framework, however, in which his mother’s life existed. [...]
[...] Ruburt did not tell anyone about his mother’s lying, for example, not until he was in his teens, and he was too ashamed of how his mother often treated him to tell anyone. [...]
(This was not all. [...] The feeling of this force was unmistakable, and new to all of us. There was no doubt about its existence, since the pressure required to level the table off was obvious to all. [...] The feeling given by this maverick or opposite pressure was quite similar to the feeling one gets from playing with magnets, when they are so aligned that one repels the other. [...]
(John B. was also a witness to the 366th session, which dealt with the wife of John Pitre to some extent, multiple sclerosis, etc. [...] John Bradley was misquoted there; he has heard of alfalfa extract, and indeed remembers his mother using it many years ago. [...]
[...] First of all: the affair the other evening with the Gallaghers was legitimate. There was contact made with the Jesuit’s father. [...]
[...] The hilarity of all this is hard to convey, but the objective realization of what was taking place, and of how hard it would be to explain to a neophyte, finally got to John Bradley. This was his first experience with a table. [...]
[...] Because that statement was couched as it was, it did not bring any arguments to your minds. [...] You did not question how your house was to be more calm, and indeed the suggestion itself was rather innocuous in its way, yet highly effective. [...]
[...] I was quite surprised to find two days later, in the New York Times for September 12, a photograph that contained strong resemblances to my drawing of Nebene’s pendant: an Egyptian pendant possibly dating from around the time of King Tutankhamen, circa 1355 BC. [...] It seemed that the similarity between the Egyptian piece shown and my own drawing was a bit too coincidental. [...] I thought it interesting that Nebene’s land, Jerusalem, say, was geographically next door to Egypt, and not great in physical distance, as far as miles go.
The first thoughts, with their emphasis on detail, were still important, convincing him that such a trip was possible, even under present conditions. He was then free in his second imagining. [...] There was a creative use of suggestion—the second, of course, far better than the first group of thoughts.
[...] Because for one thing it was general enough so that it did not bring any immediate details into your minds, and left plenty of room for action in an overall manner. [...]
I want it understood that money was not the primary goal, that his early drive to escape his environment was based on the false idea that worth was dependent upon your status. [...]
(Last Monday’s session, for October 29, was held for Sue Watkins and George Rhodes. There was but little said about Jane’s progress in it, except for a footnote at the end. [...]
[...] Ruburt in his own way tried to escape poverty through the use of his brains, and he was afraid that that was not going to work either. [...]
He realizes well now that money is not all that important, yet the old beliefs were so entangled that he had to prove to himself that it was not so important after he achieved it. Otherwise he would always tell himself that he believed money basically unimportant because he was not able to achieve it.
[...] This was the one you sold, of the man that hung for some time in the position in which my portrait now hangs. That was a portrait of Joseph; in other words of your own inner identity as you intuitively perceived it at the time. [...]
[...] The peculiar relationship existing between you and Ruburt was also a prerequisite, and so your permission and acceptance was also needed.
[...] It was known, for example, that Ruburt would need your support, as it was also known that the work itself would help your own creative abilities.
All of this was decided by you both, and by me before you began this particular lifetime. Even Ruburt’s intellectual questioning and often deep reluctance was known in advance, and adapted to aid in the work involved.
[...] Truly, this was more than I’d dared anticipate. If she had a session today, I wanted to tell Seth that what I was writing here today was much more than I’d expected to be able to write two weeks ago, say, or even a week ago.... [...]
(It was time to turn her on her side, facing the window with the pillow between her knees, so that she could get off her back for an hour before supper. [...] After she was in position, however, I massaged Oil of Olay into her feet, lower legs, and especially her hands, talking to them in my process of “dehypnotization,” as I call it. [...]
(I reread this session to Jane after supper was over at 6:50. She was on her back again, of course, and rotating her arms and hands faster than ever. [...]
[...] “Some things” were better this morning, when she was turned, went to hydro, etc.
[...] She saw her features with their old familiar contours, was pleased, and thought that with a little makeup she’d look fine. [...] It was approaching time for people to start coming in to check her vitals when she said she’d try for a short session. She was on her back, of course; her Seth voice was okay, good but not too loud.)
(“In a funny way, I’m better here, now, than I was when I was home,” Jane said. [...]
[...] After lunch I explained the situation about the hospital being 30 days late sending her medical records to Blue Cross in Syracuse, their denial of the major medical claim, the $10,000 I’d given the hospital on her current bill, and the payments I’d arranged on the old bill we still owed from last year—all of this just so she’d know what was going on. [...]
You are both doing very well, and Ruburt’s dream—the one in which he looked at his face in a mirror—was excellent, and already shows a change of belief that will be most beneficial. [...]
He felt that for artistic, financial, and personal reasons this was necessary. It was necessary because he believed that the spontaneous self, left alone, would not so concentrate—or that his spontaneous self would not, but would also be tempted by whatever other private pursuits. That belief built up a body of habits so that even when he made headway in changing the basic belief at least, he was left with beliefs about the body that were secondary but habitual; beliefs shared by each of you about his body, so that the evidence was always present.
Your information was quite correct, regarding Nebene. The plant (acanthus) was used for spices and other purposes for some centuries in that part of the world.
(10:54.) Now Ruburt, because of his beliefs, “artificially” disciplined his muscles so that he would be forced to concentrate upon what it seemed you and he both thought was most important in life—your work.
[...] He allowed himself no leeway, or very little, and in that framework the body was limited but predictable.
I was in touch with your Ferd, briefly. He is not yet aware of many aspects of his new condition (Jane’s voice was becoming somewhat deeper and faster), and is now learning to manipulate within it. Therefore even for us, communication was somewhat difficult, distorted and restrained. [...]
The session last evening was to some extent inhibited because of the emotional climate that affected our good Jesuit (Bill Gallagher). He was not at his best. [...]
[...] Now Ferd looked into a possible future, and this was quite legitimate—as a probable future. [...] (Pause.) In the precise moment in which you spoke the words, there was a probability, and a good one, that the event would occur as stated.
[...] The last of the tape was used up, and the recorder turned off. Jane was a long time, comparatively, coming out of trance. [...]
[...] (The kittens had the same mother, but had come from successive litters.) I was 44 and Jane was 34, and in conventional terms both of us were still struggling—not only to learn about ourselves and the world, but to find our creative ways in that world. Seth’s answer to my question was more than a little surprising and saddening to us, and opened up a number of insights:
Mischa, who was part shelty, or Shetland collie, was the last dog we’ve had. He certainly was a true companion to us. [...]
[...] It was as though she’d acquired an infusion of energy from Seth—yet once the session was over she announced that she wanted to go to bed.)
“Your dog’s illness was incipient. [...] It was beyond your control.
[...] It was the expected, if somewhat early, third call in the series already described. While Jane was coming out of trance once more, the caller told me about being “impressed” by her abilities — and, I thought privately, considerably surprised. When Jane came to the phone, she was informed that insofar as it was possible to verify her earlier data, practically all of it had been correct. [...] By the time she was finished it was 11:38.
(Neither Jane nor I could remember what last Thursday’s session was about, and I had but one page of it typed from my notes — a situation quite similar to that prevailing before the last session. [...] At 9:30 Jane said she was starting to get “bleed-throughs” about Seth’s material for tonight.)
[...] The call was a follow-up to a long-distance one she’d taken shortly after supper tonight, and concerned a missing person and a government agency. No other details need be given here, except to say that the case was a complex one.
[...] She was told now that those impressions had checked out very well, so, in an exchange that lasted for three-quarters of an hour, she gave more such information. [...] Jane laughingly told me that if the new data “wasn’t good enough,” she’d probably never again hear from the people involved — but at this time we didn’t realize what was to follow.
[...] Gravity itself did not carry its all-pervasive sway, so that the air was more buoyant. Man was aware of its support in a luxurious, intimate fashion. He was aware of himself in a different way, so that, for example, his identification with the self did not stop where his skin stopped: He could follow it outward into the space about his form, and feel it merge with the atmosphere with a primal sense-experience that you have forgotten.
(8:58.) During this period, incidentally, mental activity of the highest, most original variety was the strongest dream characteristic, and the knowledge [man] gained was imprinted upon the physical brain: what is now completely unconscious activity involving the functions of the body, its relationship with the environment, its balance and temperature, its constant inner alterations. [...]
All languages have as their basis the language that was spoken in dreams. The need for language arose, however, as man became less a dreamer and more immersed in the specifics of space and time, for in the dream state his communications with his fellows and other species was instantaneous. [...]
(“Well, for someone who wasn’t with it too much, I did okay,” Jane said when the session was over. She was rejuvenated to a degree. [...]
[...] I was having a Seth session, seated at my place at living room table. [...] Anyhow, he was facing me. He started to yell, throw up his arms, and he was remembering some reincarnational material that was unpleasant. [...] I came out of trance though, telling Rob everything was okay to remember, let it out, and let go. Another figure sat nearby, taking notes, and I think this was Rob too; this figure was more distant and said nothing….very clear.”
[...] Sue was upset. Jane was too, yet tried to take it all in. I probably spoke more frankly than I had in the past, yet was oddly unbothered by it all.
[...] I was leery as if I didn’t know if I could harm him, rummaging around in there like that; then realized that these images represented tangles of thought that were being smoothed out. A few minutes later Rob is in the living room and I think he was watering the plants really. I thought he was in his studio and that’s where I saw all this. [...]
(“After supper tonight I told Jane that I felt as though I was “near a breaking point,” that I might have to seek medical help. [...] She was upset. [...]
(The session was held in our large front room. It was a warm night. The windows were of necessity open and traffic noise was quite audible, but we heard Jane without difficulty. [...] Her manner was quite active and she smiled often. [...] The “brogue” that sometimes crops up was also quite in evidence.)
(There was a knock on our door at 9:16. Jane stopped speaking but as in the 172nd session, when she was also interrupted, she gave no signs of shock or even discomfort. In a few seconds she was out of her trance.
[...] All of us were in very good humor, including Seth; the session as it continued reflected this, and a rapid-fire exchange resulted in which Jane was in and out of trance at the wink of an eye, so to speak. She manifested this same ability during the 169th session, held in Dr. Instream’s office in Oswego, NY, but I would say that her switching back and forth this evening was more rapid. She said later that it was no effort at all.
[...] After their departure, we agreed that our friends probably sensed that something unusual was going on. [...] Also, although the room was well lighted the shades were closed, a practice Jane and I do not indulge in otherwise.
(Jane was elected to this post in her junior year at Skidmore. She was expelled from college at the end of her junior year, through being blamed for something of which she was innocent. [...] She was in her early twenties at the time of course.
(The object for the 77th envelope experiment was a copy of an article from The Saratogian, the daily newspaper of Saratoga Springs, NY; it was printed in September, 1950 and was saved by Jane as a souvenir, and also because she wrote it. [...]
(I have indicated the highlights of both sides of the object by typewriter; actually it was printed in two columns, instead of the one I have indicated. Jane saw the object about three weeks ago when she was sorting out some papers. [...]
[...] Jane was a bit dubious here, but said the photo heading up the article on the front of the object pictured the first meeting of the newly-elected Day Students Council; this meeting of course was followed by others.
The lace was a very distant and distorted connection. Ruburt was thinking of a lace altar cloth, which was to have led him to a religious connection. I use his associative processes, you see, but this was short-circuited here. [...]
(The object for the 70th envelope experiment was the first draft of a letter I wrote tonight, to a local dentist. [...] Jane had not seen this draft, or even the final copy of the letter, although she knew I was writing it this evening. [...]
[...] Jane was well dissociated, she said. [...] Her pace was fast, her voice still heavy and quite a bit deeper.
[...] Jane was again far-out. Again her pace had been fast, her voice strong; the exception now was that her eyes, very dark, began to open at times.
[...] In the dream, Jane saw Miss C in a hospital; Miss C was very thin, and dressed in black. She had been crying, and tried to tell Jane something to the effect that she, Miss C, was going away. She was very unhappy and sad. In this hospital where Miss C was, things were also being sold.
(This was our second consecutive session without the board, though I had it out simply to use as a handy writing board on my lap. Jane said she was glad we no longer needed to use it. [...] By 8:50 or so, she was again somewhat nervous, though she said to a lesser degree than usual.
[...] Jane said that during this delivery she was “far out”, although she was aware that she was voicing some new and startling material… She reports that as a delivery nears its end, Seth begins to recede slowly, and at the same time she slowly regains conscious awareness of her surroundings. [...]
(The next day, Jane visited Miss Callahan, to ask for the use of her telephone since our television set was not working, and we needed the help of a repairman. [...] Jane was very surprised when Miss C, apparently quite upset, told her that she had just learned from her doctor that she needed operations on both of her eyes, for the removal of cataracts. [...] Miss C then asked Jane if she would bring in the mail, etc., while she was in the hospital.
The psychology class was as much interested in Seth’s reality as in the nature of personality, as he well knew. [...] … I was not artificially ‘brought to birth’ through hypnosis. There was no artificial tampering of personality characteristics here. There was no hysteria. [...]
I felt what Seth was saying, as if the words were translated into subjective experience. It was more like being swept along into something else than being, say, negated. My ego wasn’t lost, but became part of the concepts Seth was talking about. I was inside them, looking out.
Carefully—I thought!—I explained that suggestion was very important, and asked the professor to have an objective attitude during the tests. But, as I later discovered through one of his students, his attitude was anything but objective and hardly scientific. [...] Oddly enough, the results weren’t bad at all, but his attitude was so poor that only five girls took part in the experiment. [...]
[...] It was a small group of about fifteen students, so I suggested that they come to my apartment instead. The man’s attitude was apparent the minute he came in the door. [...]
[...] Del was about 48 when the picture was taken in the backyard of their home in Santa Monica, California, and Maxine was 38 or 39. Within six months Maxine was dead from cancer. [...]
(The session was held in our front room. [...] She was smoking however and her eyes soon began to open often. Her pace was average, her voice quiet.
[...] At the time the picture was taken there was a small guest house, California style, in back of the main house; here Jane recalls a flagstone walk. This little house was torn down before my first visit to Santa Monica. [...]
(The 50th envelope experiment was held during the session. The object was a black and white photo of Jane’s father and his deceased second wife, Maxine, taken sometime prior to 1954. [...]