I never was able to interact with Jane Roberts.
I’d written her back in the 80s, but—little did I know—she was already full-bore into the health problems that ended up taking her life: complications from rheumatoid arthritis. Now, what was really cool was that her husband, Rob Butts, wrote back. And from then until his death in 2008 Rob and I wrote each other. We never met—almost did—but we did talk on the phone.
Jane and Rob—and Seth—heavily influenced my life by showing me what’s behind the curtain of life. That there was more than we physically saw…and that we can see this stuff. Manipulate it. Make it work for ourselves. I found their work with the 1972 publishing of Seth Speaks. I was hooked ever since, have read all the books, multiple times for the original work in the 70s and 80s.
So, I’m remembering you, Jane! Wondering what you’re up to now! What cool adventures are you having?
I love this poem she wrote, which is in this link. I don’t normally use things without permission, but I am doing my best at attribution. I hope Laurel Butts doesn’t mind me using it, but if she does, I’ll remove it.
Here’s to you, Jane!
Death is following,
I hear his step upon the stair.
And birth is waiting,
And behind this death and birth
A million doors
Which will open and close,
Through which my image must pass.
There is always one following,
And one waiting, and none forgotten.
For the end shall overshadow the beginning,
And the shadow of the rock is the rock.
This moment is Forever, poised upon our dream.
I am born a million years and know no tomb.
© Jane Roberts
November 17, 1954
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- In Memoriam to Jane Roberts (fpdorchakrealitycheck.wordpress.com)
There are some things about her experience of Seth that never leave me so long after reading the book in high school. The logic, even if fantasy captivated me as did A Course in Miracles, as did – to a much lesser extent – The Celestine Prophesies. It’s somehow the new, less shame oriented, interconnectedness of life, death, living all-time, everywhere, accepting if what is or what may be. Something very comforting in this type of out-of-the-box contemplation.
In many ways there is much comfort in what she gave to the world. There is also much responsibility…for we create our own realities. This, too, can be considered a “comfort,” but I think to many it’s a bury-your-head-in-the-sand burden many want to ignore….