“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

A block to the west of the hill house, the main road drops straight down into the outskirts of Elmira. Opening off the road to the left like a series of steps are short, level sidestreets upon which I often run late at night. In the beginning the running helped me physically handle my grief over Jane’s passing; I cried often as I ran, and tried to comprehend where she is now. I’m a natural runner, but had been unable to do more than a little jogging in recent years because of the pressures of work and of taking care of Jane as she became more and more ill. After her death I could run nightly if I chose to. I find that activity still secret and evocative. The streets are lined with trees arching up to meet overhead; periodically those intersecting patterns of leaves and branches are punctuated by bursts of light from the streetlamps. At certain times the moon follows me along in its phases. The only sounds might be the wind in the treetops and the chug-chug of my shoes on the asphalt. A dog may bark in the distance. When I do it right I float effortlessly along. And amid my tears I finally permitted the obvious to become obvious to me. The following is revised from my entry in my grief notebook.

[...] There is a period of adjustment after leaving any plane, although yours involves the most difficulty since your camouflage pattern is unusually rigid.

Only that she will regain periods of lucidity, but overall, her condition will not improve.

During this period I was trying the psychological time exercises suggested by Seth, and often, just when I got started, Miss Cunningham would interrupt me. [...]

[...] It did not appear in constructed form for a long period. [...]

In this particular period, we had Seth and the Seth Material only — twenty-six sessions — and thus far, no evidential material at all; there was nothing to go on except our experience and faith in ourselves. [...]

[...] It was a terrific change for me to suddenly have to rely on someone else — even Rob — to tell me what “I” had been saying for a period of two or three hours.

[...] To conform to the laws of a particular plane is a practical necessity, and at this time, the ‘saucers’ cannot afford to stay betwixt and between for any indefinite period.

Suddenly, however, I entered a period of intense creative activity, ending a dry spell that had lasted for nearly a year. [...]

[...] In times of psychological stress — or in periods of crises — quite unwittingly you often withhold this strong reinforcement. [...]

[...] If, in a dream, you experience a period of three days, physically you do not age for these days. [...]