“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

At the same time I knew that Jane had some sort of deep commitment. However, this didn’t stop her from giving me a series of face-to-face hugs, very close, smiling like she does in some old photos of her that I’d found in a file yesterday. I was leery of responding too openly to her advances, though, since I didn’t know what her commitment was. A beautiful arching stone bridge was to my right as we talked and hugged. The lawn extending underneath the bridge was an extremely rich green — glowing and pulsing as though it was alive.

I couldn’t believe it when I realized that my wife had been dead for a week. As I lived and worked in it, our house looked the same as it ever had. In spite of my sorrow, I presented a cheerful face to the world; I talked and joked, and did everything I was supposed to do. I also discovered what must be a very common phenomenon: Those who knew of Jane’s passing became instantly self-conscious when we met. I felt their embarrassment at their damned-up sympathies, and their fear of the same thing happening to them. They didn’t want to hurt me further. Amazingly, I found myself offering comfort to them, to help them surmount such barriers so that we could talk. My visitors reminded me anew of how private an event Jane’s death is for me, yet how universal it is. How many uncounted quadrillions of times has that transference from “life” to “nonlife” taken place just on our planet alone? And I don’t believe that anyone has tried to cope with questions of life and death any more valiantly than Jane did.

I don’t care for the term “channeling,” since I think it too all-inclusive and already trite. However, I liked both Jim’s ideas of my doing the Preface for Jane’s book, and of publishing a photo of her. And Laurel Lee Davies, the young lady who’s now helping me carry on my publishing activities, at once intuitively picked out from my files the one right photograph of Jane to us for Seth, Dreams … Jane’s father, Delmer Roberts, took the snapshot when she was on vacation with him in Baja, California in 1951. She was twenty-two years old. Jane and I didn’t meet until 1954. That little picture, then, was taken some twelve years before she began “coming through” with the Seth material. Yet, I find in it all of the ingredients that made up the Jane I knew — her great beauty, personality and creativity, her love of manipulating within her physical environment; I see her “steering herself” toward extraordinary accomplishments.

Jane began dictating Seth Speaks in January 1970. In March, Tam signed her to a contract for Seth, Dreams … on behalf of Prentice-Hall. The Seth Material was published. Jane was on a creative roll. She kept changing and adding to the portions of Seth, Dreams … that she hadn’t used in The Seth Material, while at the same time her new work kept crowding it out. Finally, in 1971 Tam converted her contract for Seth, Dreams … into one for Seth Speaks. Jane didn’t keep on trying to sell Seth, Dreams … Neither did I, and somehow that perfectly good book ended up packed away. Tam left Prentice-Hall for other employment in 1982; he became my agent after Jane’s death in 1984. When at his request I rediscovered Seth, Dreams … three months ago, and examined it, I couldn’t believe that that finished manuscript had never been published. I’m most pleased that Jim Young accepted it at once for Stillpoint Publishing — just as I know Jane is!

“That’s a silly question,” I retorted, but with a great impartiality; it didn’t seem that it was me replying at all. [...] They didn’t like their babies dying, but they just thought that … that was life. [...] People didn’t think it was necessary. They didn’t have books, so what good did it do to learn to read?

[...] They didn’t last; they stopped making them. [...] The men didn’t want to keep the powder and bullets together. [...]

“The people didn’t go to London often. [...] They didn’t see the coronation. [...]

[...] … They didn’t have water to drink. [...] But they didn’t drink the water. [...]

[...] I didn’t have to take everything Seth said on faith alone. [...] If I could leave my body and go out into the physical world, then I didn’t see why I couldn’t leave it and explore the inner one.

[...] So I didn’t feel like going into a trance.

Actually we didn’t get up to see her for some time. [...]

[...] “Oh, didn’t you know?” she said. [...]

[...] I didn’t have an idea in my own head about anything. In a half hour or so how would I suddenly find myself delivering such off-beat material in a voice that didn’t seem to be my own?

[...] Malba didn’t know where the daughter was, but she did know that her son now had two boys of his own. [...]

[...] She didn’t know how she ‘got about,’ but knew that she could travel to other places on earth. [...]

[...] She remarked quite spiritedly that I asked a lot of questions, but added that she liked us because we didn’t make fun of her.

[...] And Malba didn’t sound terribly bright; at least Seth is intelligent and knows what he’s talking about. [...]

“I know, but I didn’t particularly want to speak for someone else. [...]

“She didn’t say you had to. [...]

[...] When I suggested that you dissociate, incidentally, I didn’t mean that you should break up into pieces. [...]

[...] Besides, I didn’t like Seth taking you to task in front of Mark. And that made me question if I was really far more disturbed than I think I was because you didn’t help with Miss Cunningham the other night. [...]

“I though you didn’t think he was a ghost?” Rob said, grinning.

[...] Just the same, with the attitude I had at the time, I’m glad I didn’t know about the letter that was to arrive the next day.

Still, I didn’t know what to make of the material Seth gave us on dreams and the personality that night. [...]

[...] You didn’t know how to open it further, and if I may say so, you didn’t know how to close it. [...]

[...] This sensation was so strong that I put down my sandwich and took off my glasses, because I literally didn’t know what might happen next. [...]

Looking back now, the next morning, I think the possibility crossed my mind that some psychic effects were being felt, but, actually, I was so startled that I didn’t think much of anything.

I didn’t tell Jane about this at the time, but in a recent session, Seth referred to it and said that I’d been calling — psychically — for help because my back had been bothering me then badly. [...]

Consciously, you didn’t know what you were up to; unconsciously, you knew very well. [...]

“I thought you didn’t believe that we had one?” Rob said, grinning. [...]

[...] It also includes a brief mention of flying saucers that I didn’t delete because of its obvious general interest. [...]

[...] I didn’t sit down and figure it out. [...]