“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

On February 12, 1966, I dreamed that I was on a bed, with Rob on one side of me and another man nearby. There was no pain but a movement in the pelvis, and I delivered a baby. But then a doctor held up two infants and I thought with a laugh, “Oh, no! Twins. Really, this is too much!” — meaning that after having no children, two at once was really something. Then the doctor reassured me that only one baby was involved. The hospital was in my own childhood neighborhood. I was pleased that the delivery was easy and painless.

Was I pregnant? I was in the middle of my monthly period. There was no physical way to tell. Was the dream symbolic? Rob made a note of the dream and planned to ask Seth about it in our next session. As it happened, Seth interpreted the dream at once, without waiting to be asked. It was Session 233, February 14, 1966 (Valentine’s Day). Seth said,

“The same to you,” Rob said, with a smile. He’d forgotten it was Valentine’s Day.

First there was an extremely vivid dream in which Rob and I were in a little town in New York. Then I experienced a false awakening: I thought I was awake, and about to get up to write down the dream. The phone rang. I jumped out of bed, rushed into the living room. But as I reached the phone, it stopped ringing. At the same time, I felt an instant sense of strangeness. It had been bright and cloudless before I went to bed; now the sky was much too dark. A brooding quality filled the room, and outside the windows, everything was dimly lit as if it were suddenly the hour just before dawn.

Ten days passed without word. Then I had another dream that upset me considerably. In it, Rob had gone downstairs to get the mail. There was a letter from Prentice. Rob opened it, and began to read.

“It isn’t a dream,” Rob assured me. “You’re in your normal state of consciousness.”

“It’s all right,” Rob said.

Again Rob assured me that I wasn’t dreaming, but now I was sure that I was and afraid that I was about to awaken. Rob handed me the letter. Hurriedly, I grabbed it. Later I forgot much of what I read, but I knew that a contract would not be given yet — there would be a lag. Some obstacle had arisen, but there was still hope. There was also something about my being fired from a job because I was notorious as a writer.

Apparently Rob, too, has his dream eye out for my writing interests. Back in 1964, a national magazine accepted my short story, “Big Freeze.” Payment was to be on publication. As time went on, I heard nothing from them, and the magazine was not one that we regularly purchase. I made a mental note to write them but kept putting it off. Then, on October 21, 1965, Rob dreamed that my story, “Big Freeze,” had already been published. Rob told me about the dream and recorded it in the morning.

That day, in the art department where Rob works mornings, a co-worker told Rob that he had just read my story and liked it. It had appeared in the current issue of the magazine, then on the stands. The magazine had just come out and Rob had not seen it. I wrote them and received payment and their apology for the “oversight.” In mentioning the dream during a session, Seth told Rob that he had also translated the title into the sensation of feeling chilly upon awakening — a fact that Rob had forgotten.

“What’s the job of the intellect, then?” Rob asked.

(The term “probable universe” was fairly new to us then, so Rob asked, “Will you tell us more about the probable system and its connections here?” Seth replied,)