1 result for (book:nome AND session:814 AND stemmed:time)
(With one exception, which I’ll get to later, we’ve spent another long period — 9 weeks — without holding book sessions. Seth-Jane was certainly busy on all of those Monday and Saturday nights, though, and came through with another separate series of sessions after I inserted the 806th session into Mass Events — 17 of them this time, as compared to the 10 sessions delivered before the 806th was held. Once again, these were private or nonbook sessions, and once again they covered a wide range of subjects other than personal ones.
[... 2 paragraphs ...]
(This flexibility also generates some challenges, however, for the great amount of material we’ve accumulated during the Mass Events hiatus gave us the urge to see what we could do about getting at least some of it published, so that others could benefit. The problem — the challenge — would be to find the physical time to do the necessary editing and notes to put such a manuscript in shape for publication; this would be a job that could easily take a year. Jane and I considered combining that hypothetical book with Mass Events, but figured out that the resulting volume would almost surely be too long; longer even than Volume 2 of “Unknown” Reality, which in our opinion is bulky enough.
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(Since the 806th session was held 10 weeks ago [on July 30], then, I’ve worked steadily on Volume 2 of “Unknown.” Late in August Jane interrupted her work on James to move all of her writing paraphernalia into her new room at the back of the house. Sue Watkins delivered the finished manuscript for several chapters of Psyche, and picked up more to type. Jane, who was to work on James all through September, prepared a presentation for that book so that in the meantime her editor, Tam Mossman, could show it to his associates at Prentice-Hall. On September 12, Jane had a very vivid dream that she believes was rooted in a past life of hers in Turkey: Her dream involved a little boy, Prince Emir, who lived in a brand-new world in which death hadn’t been invented yet. Over the telephone three days later, Tam suggested that Jane do a children’s book, or one for “readers of all ages,” based on her dream about Emir;2 the next day he called again, this time to give her the delightful news that he’d accepted James for publication.
[... 7 paragraphs ...]
The official mentioned, by the way, that there was indeed no direct evidence connecting past flu shots with the occurrence of a rather bizarre disease that some of those inoculated with the flu vaccine happened to come down with.4 All in all, it was quite an interesting announcement, with implications that straddle biology, religion, and economics. “The flu season” is in a way an example of a psychologically-manufactured pattern that can at times bring about a manufactured epidemic.
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In a few isolated areas of the world even today, the old are not disease-ridden, nor do their vital signs weaken. They remain quite healthy until the time of death.
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Pills, potions, and shots supposed to combat [colds and the] flu are given prominent displays, serving to remind those who might have missed them otherwise of the announcements [about] the coming time of difficulty. Commercials on television bring a new barrage, so that (amused) you can go from the hay fever season to the flu season without missing any personal medications.
[... 15 paragraphs ...]
The more tolerant a religion is, the closer it comes to expressing those inner truths. The individual, however, has a private biological and spiritual integrity that is a part of man’s heritage, and is indeed any creature’s right. Man cannot mistrust his own nature and at the same time trust the nature of God, for God is his word for the source of his being — and if his being is tainted, then so must be his God.
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At certain times, and most particularly at the birth of medical science in modern times, the belief in inoculation, if not by the populace then by the doctors, did possess the great strength of new suggestion and hope — but I am afraid that scientific medicine has caused as many new diseases as it has cured. When it saves lives, it does so because of the intuitive healing understanding of the physician, or because the patient is so impressed by the great efforts taken in his behalf, and therefore is convinced secondhandedly of his own worth.
[... 6 paragraphs ...]
In fact, then, preventative medicine and outlandish expenditures for preventative defense are quite similar. In each case there is the anticipation of disaster — in one case from the familiar body, which can be attacked by deadly diseases at any time, and is seemingly at least without defenses; and in the other case from the danger without: exaggerated, ever-threatening, and ever to be contended with.
[... 5 paragraphs ...]
As I sorted through the mass of material Seth-Jane has produced these last weeks, I found myself once again charmed and mystified by the challenges contained in the art of writing. The painted image can be taken in at a glance, at any stage of its development, but the cognition of the written word takes much more time, no matter how fast one reads or absorbs new material. With a single look the artist has an immediate grasp of the entire work before him; he (or she) can tell what he’s done and has to do, what he may have to change or “fix up,” even if he fails at it. Not so the writer, who while reading must pass up the artist’s simultaneous perception for his own linear cognition as he makes a multitude of decisions involving sentence structure, what to use or eliminate, and so forth.
Sometimes the artist in me visually comes to the aid of the writer by laying out pages of material and notes side by side upon a table or two. Then I can see what I’m trying to do as a whole, and half intuitively, half intellectually make decisions about how to organize passages I may be having problems with. This process is always very challenging and thrilling to me. It always seems to work, although progress may still be slow at times. This method also helps greatly in counteracting that initial impatience the artist part of me strongly feels when my writer self comes upon a complex situation.
[... 7 paragraphs ...]