“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

‘My bursting out of the elevator car, which was lifting me toward the house on the roof of the hospital building, and a new reality, is a close thing as I force my way free. I’m delayed by fixing the mechanism; repairing it means I still have things to do on the earth, as does the lady who was with me in the car. My almost waiting too long to get out of the car also stands for my grief for Jane, and for my intense questioning and speculating about ‘where she is’ now. I’m sure that she lives. I want to know more — yet I’m not ready to die now in order to find out. I feel sad, writing this and thinking of her.

Who do I share this image with?
What ghost haunts this house?
I smile and reach for a cup of tea
And motions beyond my will begin.
My fingers move smoothly out
And lift the curving spoon.
With just the proper touch
They pick the china saucer up.
Yet I have nothing to do with this.
Who moves the cup? [...]

While I sleep and lie stretched out,
Eyelids closed and pupils dark,
Who walks wide-eyed downstairs
Through the door in the cold night air,
And travels where I have never been?
Who leaves clear memories in my head
Of people I have never met?
Who takes these trips while I
Never lift one inch from bed?
Who dreams?

[...] But I saw the soles of the man’s feet, wrinkled and brown and, yes, without shoes, lifting after each stride. [...]

[...] I was left feeling as though I might be lifted up and swept away.