“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(The weather is still very warm for this time of year; the temperature is often above freezing in the daytime, and when we do get a dusting of snow it soon melts on the bare ground. This morning I took David Yoder home from the hospital, and this afternoon I took our tiger cat, Billy, to the veterinarian. Billy hasn’t acted well since last Saturday, and his beautiful coat has lost its luster. He had a temperature of 105° when the vet gave him a shot and prescribed some pills. Yet the doctor didn’t really know why the cat is sick. Jane and I wondered what role Billy’s illness might play in our affair with David—surely a way of thinking that would have been quite alien to us before the advent of the Seth material.

(10:05.) “Your cat, in a strange fashion, reacted to the weather—not reacted so much as identified with its interpretation of the weather’s mood—became part of the weather in a fashion, opened up to it, but became depressed in your terms.

“To the cat this is an experience. There is some additional implication, in that he picked up your joint feelings about your friend David—but that is not the cause, simply an added coloration. The give-and-take of weather conditions and animal behavior is little understood. Your other cat, for example, reacted in an opposite fashion, actively providing herself with additional stimuli.

She answered the question in her own way. “That was my fault, though—that was charged material, he would have said more. Stuff about illness is still pretty charged for me.” I thought her own physical difficulties must play a strong role here, although she didn’t say so. “It makes me mad,” Jane said quietly. “At break I could feel him getting all ready to go into Billy’s condition, and I began to get all tight inside. I didn’t tell you. Then I said to myself, ‘Seth, just go into it, that’s all.’ So why didn’t he say the cat’s going to be all right?”

In reply to another of my questions, she said her emotional charge was also involved with the death of our cat, Billy One, in February 1979. Billy One had been, obviously, the predecessor to the Billy we have now; the present Billy is remarkably similar to him in looks and temperament. “I’m disgusted with myself,” Jane said. “I wish we’d called this one Willy, but I know that’s all superstitious nonsense.”