“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Over the last few years, we have spent many hours with our dream records, though the daily time spent in keeping them up to date is negligible. For our own benefit, we frequently kept simple journals of daily events also, so that it was easier to check dreams against daily and weekly happenings and to connect dreams with past, present and future events.

First I seemed to be floating above a car. The male driver buckled over in pain.

COMMENT: The next day a friend, Peter James, visited us. He had been having back trouble. As he sat on the couch, he suddenly buckled over with a spasm. We gave him aspirin. When he recovered, he offered to drive us to the garage to pick up our car.

There were also some other dream elements that are too involved to mention here. The last part of the dream as given above ended up, for example, with a sequence involving J. P. Priestley, author of Man and Time, an excellent book that I had just finished reading. I woke up at 3 A.M. and wrote the dreams down at once, using the small bedside table. The bedroom was so chilly that I finally finished my notes in the warmer living room. The dreams were still so vivid, particularly the first episode, that I also drew a quick sketch of the building with the decontamination center in it. I could still feel myself running through the radioactive rain, yet the whole thing was so unbelievable that I could hardly see how it could be precognitive. I had some cookies and milk and read my notes over. Even if it was symbolic, I didn’t like it a bit.

Looking over my shoulder now, Rob pointed at the sketch I’d done with the dream. “That layout is identical to the one at the License Bureau!” And it was. The Motor Vehicles Bureau is an extension of the county building, as the decontamination center was an extension of another building in the dream. Incidentally, I’d been in the License Bureau only once several years earlier.

In the next case, interpretation was simple — and amusing. One night I had a confused dream about a celebration. Rob and I were with a group of people, all laughing and calling out shouts and responses. I had a megaphone. We shouted one word over and over again: “Kangaroo.”

This seemed like a pointless nonsense dream. A few weeks later I received a letter from a friend in California. Something about it struck a familiar chord: The whole bottom of one page was given over to a sketch of a kangaroo. In the letter, my friend also wrote a page about a family celebration.