“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(9:03 A.M. Last night Jane had pronounced her work finished on the introductory material for Dreams. I hadn’t said so, but I’d suspected that she had more to say. Then as we went to bed she brought up two additional subjects to discuss, for those who would wonder: why we hadn’t more actively sought medical help in the past for her physical condition; and the many private, or deleted, sessions Seth himself has given for her over the years.

I have no idea, of course, what physical state I’d be in if the Seth phenomenon hadn’t appeared in my life (in late 1963), or if I hadn’t had those sessions to rely upon. And even in the most private-type sessions Seth always wound his material into more public areas, so that we have reams of unpublished (and very controversial) material dealing with the connections between one’s illness and other members of the family, community relationships, and with the very belief systems that underlie all of human activity. The kinds of beliefs we have about people bring about the kinds of illnesses we encounter. That is certainly one of Seth’s clearest messages. The individual is always in a state of change. To name and dignify a group of symptoms only brings them further into prominence, and offers them another framework for permanency.

(Long pause at 9:35.) By last year, as my symptoms worsened, I began to feel that life’s frustrations outweighed its pleasures. Other annoying events were occurring in our private lives. The company that published my books, Prentice-Hall, was changing its structure and policy. My longtime friend and editor there, Tam Mossman, was considering leaving to work for another publishing firm. And—very troublesome to me—came the repeated news that various people were “speaking for Seth” publicly, and charging hefty-enough fees.