“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

As I finished the first page, Rob came out, passed me and went into the kitchen. I was surprised that he didn’t know without being told, as he usually does, that something was going on, and I didn’t want to talk to anyone. Finally I managed to say, “Hon, don’t bother me.” It took great effort for me to withdraw that much energy away from what I was doing. But, instead of understanding, Rob began emptying the garbage into paper bags. The crinkley sound seemed magnified tremendously and had a new dimension as if it were ripping up space, crinkling the edges of space in the kitchen. Later, Rob said that he never heard me speak to him and questioned whether I’d really spoken. I thought I had, of course.

I wanted to cry, and for a moment I almost did — to be so interrupted. Rob went on bagging the garbage. It seemed now that we were separated by a great distance that had nothing to do with space. I couldn’t bridge it just then to explain what was happening or to ask him to stop. He went out and returned after emptying the garbage. The kids downstairs, full of fun, began yelling with great energy on the porch. Finally, the sounds quieted. I waited.

I ‘come to,’ realizing that my body is in bed sleeping. I walk in the bedroom where my father is standing, complaining about his problems. Immediately I get annoyed with him and begin telling him about my problems. He becomes very upset.

Suddenly I am yanked away from this scene, and Carl [Sue’s husband] and I are sitting in a large room with Jane as Seth. Seth turns to Carl and gives him a long lecture. Carl smiles at him, and Seth says, ‘Now at the count of three, you will go into a deeper trance.’ Carl begins to do so. I lie down on the couch and say, ‘Wow, to be out at the count of three?’ I close my eyes.

Using a series of mental exercises explained to me by Seth, I do step sideways — it is as though I am squeezing between two bars, and I find myself back in the bedroom with my father there, again, complaining. This time I change the events from the way they happened the first time, realize how important his problems are to him, smile and send him good thoughts. At once I am propelled into another, similar scene.

I look up and notice an older, short, stout man in a dark purple robe of some sort sitting across from us and realize with a jolt that it is Seth! I say, ‘Do you know him?’ and point. Jane laughs. ‘You mean old Saint Nick over there?’ I (whatever one it is) cringe.

‘Look,’ I say, ‘You and I are in the dream state. I am from another probability system. You know me there. In mine, you kept on with the “messages” and found — I glance at Seth, who is smiling — ‘they were from him and you went on to discover fantastic things about life.’

I nod and we walk out of the restaurant — Seth trailing along behind. We walk down a shaded, quiet street and turn in at a large white house with a screened lower porch. There is a large tree to the left of the porch, and a weedy driveway leads back to a large white barnish-looking building with double top-hinged doors. We go up a set of outside stairs and into an apartment which seems to have a large living room. Rob is about to haul out some paintings — they seem to be landscapes — when he groans in agony and nearly falls down in pain from his back, apparently. He manages to lie down on the floor and I try to show him some yoga exercises for it, but he brushes me off. I suddenly feel desperate to do something for them before it all ends.

It happened some months before our first psychic experiences. Rob was ill, and we were vacationing in Maine. One night we went to a nightclub, hoping for a change of mood. Rob could hardly walk, his back hurt him so badly. The room was small and crowded, the tables were all full, and the band blared. Suddenly, I noticed an older couple sitting across from us. I couldn’t take my eyes off them. As if hypnotized, I sat staring.

I poked Rob, and told him what I thought. Then suddenly he just stood up, said, “Let’s dance,” and dragged me out onto the dance floor. A moment earlier I’d seen him grimace with pain. The band was playing a twist, and we didn’t know the dance. For that matter, up to that point we hadn’t gone out much and rarely danced. I resisted, but Rob wouldn’t take no for an answer — very uncharacteristic of him.

Now, Ruburt has also done the same service for a probable Sue in another system of reality, though in an entirely different way. And you [Rob], incidentally, have helped a probable Carl [Sue’s husband] in the same manner, using his creative abilities. The probable Carl, in other words, has strong creative abilities, and you have helped him understand this.