“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Next, Jane quickly went over my recent batch of “Sayre-environment dreams,” as Seth called them. I’ve recorded six of those long and complicated dreams, set in my hometown, since December 22; in them I explored my various, sometimes contradictory beliefs about writing and painting, my relationships with society and the marketplace, and with my [deceased] father as he represented certain other beliefs. I’d recently asked Jane if Seth would comment.

Tonight Seth did comment—and very perceptively put all of the dreams together. “In your heart Sayre stands for your childhood,” he said in conclusion, “and to that extent, to you personally, for the childhood of all men. For, again to some extent, each man feels that somehow humanity as a whole was born at his own birth.”

We took a break at 9:40. “I’ll tell you,” Jane said as I congratulated her, “I just glanced at those dreams in your notebook. I didn’t take more than five minutes. I’ll be damned.” She laughed, pleased at Seth’s handling of them.

“My memories of those dream events are just as real as the memories of anything else I’ve done lately,” I said. “Going shopping, or working, or whatever….” I’ve always been intrigued by the simple observation that for me at least, once they begin moving into the past dream events assume an increasingly important place in my life. I think that upon awakening in the present, one is much more likely to call a dream “just a dream,” and not assign to it a reality and validity equal to one’s “real” experience in the waking state.

(10:27 P.M. “Boy, that’s excellent stuff,” I said to Jane as she came out of a good trance and a good delivery. “I sure hope we can use it somehow, somewhere, instead of letting it just sit on a shelf.” So even though I’d inserted the last [nonbook] session into Dreams, I didn’t make any quick decision about doing the same thing with this one.