“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] Instead of going to my typewriter at 8:00 A.M. as usual, I lay down and set the alarm for 9:30.1 gave myself the suggestion that I would go to sleep, recognize my state when I began to dream and project my consciousness out of my body. [...]

[...] I fell into a normal dream which was also forgotten before the alarm awakened me.

So at least twice a week I lay down to experiment, my body on the couch or bed, the alarm clock set, my house in order, while I try to “get out” to see what I could find. [...]

You, being a male, he felt, would be most alarmed at any undue emotionalisms. [...]

[...] Do not be alarmed by my wild mystical self, for it is well under control.”

[...] At such times you became more alarmed working with your oils and colors, and wanted a retreat, and sought for greater distance in your paintings.

He would have become instantly alarmed had you not then begun to retreat. [...]

[...] At her request I put my finger on a certain spot high up on the back of Jan’s head, where the muscles from the neck join the skull—and suddenly her head began to flop forward then jerk backward at an almost alarming rate, so fast did it move. [...]

He became very alarmed over your own symptoms, though he did well enough in maintaining his own there. [...]

(During the last paragraph the fire alarm bell began sounding by the elevator door outside Jane’s room. [...]

[...] At first she was “alarmed, wondering if I’d gone to sleep like that. [...]

[...] Since she had done this once before it did not alarm her.

(The second effect did produce a little alarm when it began, but she mentally told Seth to go ahead. [...]

[...] You became embarrassed at Ruburt’s condition when others saw it, and you finally became alarmed when you wondered how much the body could put up with.

[...] Carried to extremes, however, the condition became alarming. [...]

[...] You are not able to differentiate between the physically safe present situation, and the imagined, which is perhaps unsafe, calling forth the alarms of danger.

Because of man’s great gift of imagination, however, the alarm signals not only invade a safe present moment, but go jangling into the next one and the one following, and are endlessly projected into the future. [...]

(At times Jane wakes me up at night; she’s very nearly crying in discomfort, yet now we understand that those feelings represent her muscles wanting to be used; so far, though, we haven’t managed to get ourselves out of bed at such times, which usually develop perhaps an hour before the alarm is to ring; these bouts, then, happen after she’s usually slept for several hours, and the body wants action. [...]

(At the start of this experiment, while setting the alarm I had instructed myself to come out of the desired state just before the alarm rang. [...]

(When the alarm rang to end the session, my eyes opened as usual. [...]

[...] The alarmed personality would quickly return. [...]

[...] The situation is in no way alarming. [...]

[...] People look upon a fever with alarm, for example. [...]

[...] If our words could not convince him, or his own understanding grasp the truth, then you had the “truth” uttered with all the medical profession’s authority—and if once a doctor had told him years ago how excellent was his hearing, the medical profession now told him that his slowness [his thyroid deficiency], helped impair his hearing to an alarming degree. [...]

As far as you are personally concerned, Joseph, you became alarmed by what seemed to you to be certain implications when you carried Ruburt in the bathroom. [...]

[...] As Ruburt’s muscles exert themselves they often also hurt, but there is no one for him to compare his situation to—and because he has not trusted the body he becomes alarmed.

[...] The bedroom has been an alarm area for both of you sexually, for the reasons made obvious, I should hope, and your studio has definitely been an alarm area on your part.