“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Now: Dictation.

“Wednesday, November 18, 1981. Right now I’m really blue, my eyes operating poorly; tears warmly close; yet enjoying the dark sky and street as rain threatens… the view of the mountains afforded by the windows; the rock music on the radio; the odd remaining odor of door varnish—deeply loving all of it yet swept through with something like nostalgia. The phone rings and at first I can’t tell if the ring is really here or from the radio, and when I answer the phone the voice is distant; it asks for Rob. A flash flood watch is in effect—nothing to worry us on our hill! I wait to feel better. Rob turned off the radio so he could hear on the phone…. He goes out front to feed the birds. I do feel relieved some, to be writing this down. It’s time for lunch; maybe I’ll do a few notes afterward….”

3. Jane and I regret that we’ve deprived our guest of the protected and warm—if not natural—habitat it had chosen. We had certainly enjoyed watching the raccoon. I told my wife I’m particularly pleased that even though we live within the confines of a small city, we’re also in close contact with the natural world and its creatures. I think of this enjoyable proximity as an excellent way of keeping in perspective our human position upon the planet. I don’t want to be simplistic here, but for some years I’ve been concerned that those living in large metropolitan centers miss a certain daily, vital participation in the very environment within which by far most of the life forms on earth exist. I’m not sure what percentage of the human population now lives in urban areas, but it must be high, and climbing. Yet beliefs rule all: Evidently, even with all of the challenges that crowding can set up, it’s just as natural for people to congregate as it is for them to live spread out—perhaps even more so, if one facet of their behavior can be said to be “more natural” than another!