“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

1. In a simplified account: When I was a youngster my mother took me to see our family optometrist. My parents had known him for years. With the best of intentions, that kindly gentleman put bifocals on me. They weren’t very strong—but once the habit was set I wore glasses without protest for the next 40 years or so. It wasn’t until Jane began coming through with the ideas embodied in the Seth material that I began to question my “need” for glasses. Without being concerned about what I was doing, I began to stop wearing them constantly. The glasses got in the way when I wrote and painted. I had to wear them when driving, though, because my driver’s licence bore an “x” opposite “corrective lenses.” Other than that, I usually put them on only when I felt tired. At the same time, I avoided giving myself the negative suggestion that my eyes still weren’t perfect, even with my improving beliefs.

Last week I received from our current optometrist (whom I’ll call John Smith) his standard notice that two years have passed since my glasses were changed. I told myself to ignore it, yet began to feel a sense of strain whether or not I wore the glasses. I thought the power of suggestion was operating. Because of a cancellation I got a quick appointment to see John this afternoon—and received a very pleasant surprise, for his examination revealed that my vision has improved since the last prescription. The glasses I now have are getting to be too strong. Out of habit, I’d thought the opposite was the case. John too was surprised; he double-checked his figures to make sure he was right before ordering the weaker lenses. Once John had assembled his pheropter, or lens unit, the test lenses making up the new prescription, my vision checked out at 20/15—better than the so-called normal 20/20. That score is a considerable improvement over anything I’d ever achieved before, with or without glasses.

(A note added later: On my last New York State Visual Acuity Report, which he filled out in May 1983, John Smith wrote that I passed the test for driving without wearing glasses [combined Snellen test score 20/30]. However, when the postman delivered my new driver’s license—good for four years—that “x” was still there opposite “corrective lenses.” I haven’t yet taken the time to straighten out that bureaucratic tangle.)