“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

My history is filled
with kingdoms lost and kingdoms found,
with magic mirrors that open up
into brand-new cosmic maps,
and within my head
glittering worlds are spread
enough to fill
a thousand books.
Multiple vision leads me on
over paths that form
new worlds of fact.

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!

Last night was the fifth night in a row that I’ve slept on the screened-in back porch in my new sleeping bag. I didn’t start doing this to avoid the bedroom that Jane and I had shared in the hill house for the last nine years, but because I’d always wanted to and now can. Jane is no longer here for me to be so close to, night and day, to leap to take care of when she needs me. She’d never been able to sleep on the porch — one of the reasons we’d had it added onto the house to begin with.

‘Oh, sweetheart, if only you were here with me to see this,’ I said aloud to Jane. And as I talked to her I suddenly found myself crying for her again there in the semi-dark night while the wind seethed and roared. Deep wrenching sobs began in my legs and stomach and rose up through my chest. I tried to keep talking to her, but could not. ‘It must be better where you are,’ I finally gasped, ‘but you should see this. It’s so wonderful …’ And as I spoke I intuitively understood that the motion of the wind was an excellent creative metaphor for the motion of Jane’s soul, that its cool feel upon my face could be the physical version of her caring for me ‘from where she is.’ The storm of my grief eased after a while, but the wind and the light rain continued. I dozed. When I woke half an hour later the wind had diminished a great deal. I felt drained. I went into the kitchen for a glass of water. Was Jane’s soul resting from its earlier great commotion, or had she moved away for the moment while exploring other aspects of her new reality that were perhaps out of range to us earthbound creatures? I crawled back into my bag and slept until dawn.

[...] Also, I began a new book.

[...] Each time I read it, I gain new insights.

[...] (Or, someone might say, like dreaming vividly while awake.) But, for me, then, it was simply a completely new state of consciousness and awareness, a psychological experience like none I’d known before.

[...] These bullets were something new. [...]

[...] Then you transform it into a somewhat different, more evocative, new camouflage pattern that is, nevertheless, more fluent, more fluid than the usual pattern, and gives greater freedom and mobility to the vitality itself. [...]

It is not a matter of inventing new instruments any longer, but of using the ‘invisible’ ones you have. [...]

[...] But the body and all camouflage patterns are also transformers of the vital inner stuff of the universe, enabling it to operate under new and various conditions.

[...] None of us suspected that Seth would give Mark detailed information about the inner organization for which he worked, or help him understand personal problems, or delight in telling him what had gone on at sales conferences that Mark had already attended — or with a great rush of humor tell him the exact amount of a new raise he had just been given. [...]

[...] I felt at these times as if new information was being “popped into my head,” or rather, into my whole being. [...]

[...] “A terrific lot of new material, really startling, on dream reality and some suggestions about your furniture, all in one night!”

[...] The new personality is not entirely focused, and it must make immediate critical adjustments of the strongest nature. [...]

[...] In a sudden death, however, this can be more upsetting to the personality involved, and since the new materialization is simultaneous, it can lead to confusion. [...]

[...] It is one that I now use with my beginning students though then, of course, it was new to us. [...]

[...] Instead, we tried looking at time itself in a new way, practically speaking. [...]

[...] Frequently he took notes on the old TV set, standing up, and sometimes he sat in the new rocker.