“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

At one level Ruburt did allow himself to participate in a very difficult health situation. There were many questions he asked himself about his mother’s condition in particular (Marie is a bedridden arthritic), and about such situations in general, and he did indeed allow himself to go along on one level to provide an extraordinary impetus that he felt would be needed to conquer such extraordinary conditions.

(My personal opinion, which I haven’t even had the time to discuss with her, is that she ought to continue sessions in this vein, no matter how difficult they may be, simply to break the chains that keep her bedridden and hospitalized. Surely that goal makes them worth it. Earlier this afternoon I’d repeated my own grim assertion that putting oneself in Jane’s condition because of a fear of others, or the world at large, was untenable, and that I’d never stand for it. I asked her if she’d done enough of that herself after the session, and she said she was ready to change. We’ll see. At least I feel a small hope.

Jane’s parents divorced when she was 3, and she and her angry, bedridden mother lived on welfare. [...]

(Jane’s mother is a bedridden arthritic, and has been since Jane was a very young girl.

[...] Marie was bedridden, but Jane was perfectly healthy, and had come to forgive her mother, or make up with her. [...]

Doctors had terrified me as a child, when my mother was already bedridden with arthritis, and when I was diagnosed as having an overactive thyroid gland—an affliction that could lead, so my mother told me, to insanity and death. [...]

[...] Instead to dire images of being for example, bedridden.

[...] Physically, Ruburt is improving, as you can see—but he used a stimulus of fear —the fear that otherwise he might be bedridden.

[...] Jane’s mother is a bedridden arthritic in a nursing home at Middle Grove, NY. [...]

Small hospitals on spacious grounds, with freedom for all but the bedridden to use their bodies, would far surpass what you have. [...]

Your feelings presently that Ruburt is on the brink of being bedridden are —mainly now—the results of negative conditioning—they seem very realistic. [...]

[...] You have been looking, both of you, to see how bad Ruburt was, how much worse he would get, until each of you projected the situation into the future until he was nearly bedridden—all in a misguided attempt to get yourselves out of the situation.

[...] I don’t believe I was bedridden, but that I was being cared for somehow.

Some of our other books contain more information on how Jane grew up fatherless, and with a Marie who soon became bedridden and embittered. [...]

[...] Jane and I came to believe that it was hardly accidental that her mother quickly became bedridden—for life—following the departure of her husband. [...]

[...] (She did, but several weeks later.) Right then, she told us she was on her way to see her bedridden mother, Marie, as she often did at that time of night. [...]

[...] The connections involving her mother’s bedridden condition and her tempestuous temper, including her suicide attempts, both faked and real, troubles with a succession of housekeepers, the lack of a father, the almost two years she spent in a Catholic orphanage while Marie was hospitalized, the death of her beloved grandfather, the whole strained atmosphere within which the gifted and impressionable child was growing, as well as her conflicts with church dogma and personalities, had, all together, powerful effects indeed. [...]

[...] No matter that right now our joint reality seems quite opaque to me as Jane lies bedridden. [...]

[...] It was taken by an older lady friend who was treating her to an outing at a spa just outside of the New York State resort of Saratoga Springs, where Jane lived with her bedridden mother, Marie, and a housekeeper. [...]

[...] This is the fact that John, Jane and Bill all have mothers who were, or are, bedridden with arthritis. [...]

[...] She’d seldom found that reinforcement while living with a parent who had been divorced and become bedridden by the time Jane was three years old, and who had a host of problems—challenges—of her own to meet.

[...] We expect to receive from Prentice-Hall the page proofs for the book, for our review, any day now.) In her poetry the young Jane was using ideas akin to reincarnation before she even knew the word—subject matter that was strongly disapproved of by the Catholic priests who visited Jane and her bedridden mother at home.

[...] Growing up, she was “frightened most of the time,” Jane told me as I prepared this note: She often lived alone with her bedridden mother, such periods being punctuated by a succession of itinerant housekeepers appointed by the welfare department. [...]