“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(By 8:45 Jane had the jitters as usual before a scheduled session. Last night she was not nervous, since the session was unscheduled.

(“No, it was fine.”)

The bakery across the street from Throckmorton’s shop was run by a man called Ragan. R-a-g-a-n. He had a wife, five children, and three children who died in their early years. He was a distant cousin of Throckmorton’s, of Irish descent.

The shop was directly across the way from Throckmorton’s, and in like manner the family lived upstairs and in the rear. A cobblestone street lay between the two shops. One of the small daughters, Anna, was the child with whom Dick played.

One of the other children, a brother, is now one of your cousins; and another child is now a twin of Dick’s present wife. There is, incidentally, a variant in the case of twins that I will go into sometime. The family was more prosperous than Throckmorton’s. The house had two small extra rooms.

(Jane’s voice was still normal and her eyes had their usual darker look. But by now the rhythm of her pacing as she dictated Seth’s messages had picked up quite a bit. She was moving about faster than ever before; so much so that I began to think it might be extremely fatiguing if she kept it up.)

(When I told her she had been pacing at a faster rate than ever before, she said it felt very effortless. She was not at all tired. This was the first time she had been aware of such a feeling. She resumed at 9:43.)

(Break at 10:32. During break Jane seemed to become aware of several things at once. She said she thought she’d been in a trance of some kind almost from the beginning of the session. She had no memory of giving the above monologue; she said it was as though she had “vanished.” I told her that of course she was with me all the time, pacing so fast that at times it was distracting. The material, she said, came through with no distortion at all. She felt as though she were a pure vehicle; she had no conscious thoughts about it, she was hardly aware of her environment at all. She had a vague memory of picking up a wineglass once. Actually I had watched her smoke a couple of cigarettes while dictating, pace back and forth, pause to look out the windows, etc. She did not feel tired, nor had her voice shown any changes.

(Jane also now became aware of her “fat” hands again. She said they felt as though there was flesh between the fingers that she was not used to having there. We examined them. They were wet, and to me the fingers appeared thicker. Again, she could not get one of her rings back on.

Without knowing what he was doing Ruburt has been developing his inner senses to an almost amazing degree, but naturally he did this unknowingly, pursuing other aims. In the past he was so bound to the conscious ego that in fiction he found it difficult to write anything that was not strictly autobiographical.

The poetry has always been the result of facility in use of the inner senses, but until lately he was unable to give this sufficient pattern in terms of unitary form. His efforts in the book The Physical World as Idea Construction represented a breakthrough on his part. He realized, I believe, from the beginning that the conscious critical mind had little to do with the initial conception.

The book was a first attempt in forming a definite pattern of the material that he was receiving from the inner senses. He was beginning to recognize the whole self. The only reason the whole self is not much more conscious and accessible is your own stubborn refusal to admit it. I cannot emphasize this more strongly. The camouflage pattern world is formed by the mind, and I am using this now in its true term as a part of the inner world. Energy is received by the mind through the inner senses and transformed by use of mental enzymes into camouflage patterns.

(By now Jane’s delivery was really wound up. Though she did not talk much faster she emphasized the words more, used more gestures, and paced about even more rapidly. However I had the feeling she was not in as deep a trance state as before. Her hands still bothered her also; she had taken off one ring at the start of the session but had left her wedding ring on; now she was trying to get that one off too, but without success.)

This is not meant to discourage the intellect, but the intellect has never yet been used for the purpose for which it was developed. I suggest a brief break, and may I say that I am unusually pleased with tonight’s session, and with Ruburt’s performance, since this material is coming to you without any distortion whatsoever, as far as I can tell. This is indeed our best session to date.

(Break at 11:18. During this monologue Jane was not as far out, she said, yet was still “away” while talking. The phenomena persisted with her hands, though to a lesser degree, but she still could not get her wedding ring off.

(Through this session her voice had been normal. However when she resumed dictation her voice abruptly changed pitch, rising several notes up the scale. It was not a falsetto voice yet was close to it, and was the first use of this kind of voice. She maintained it until the close of the session, along with her fast pacing. Resume at 11:27.)

Outer physical time is a complete camouflage, unnecessary basically on your plane; but you have made it seem necessary because of your refusal to admit the inner self as part of your whole personality, and therefore you have not been able to utilize psychological time to its fullest advantage on your plane. Psychological time as I have said is a natural pathway, part of an inner sense, that was meant as an easy access from the inner to the outer world and back again. You do not use it as such.

Unless man learns to use this inner sense he may well lose whatever he has gained. I will say much more along these lines at a later date. I believe I will close the session. I do not want to keep you up too late, although as usual I could keep on for hours. I am extremely pleased that we could come together in this manner. A certain development on your part was absolutely necessary before such sessions between us could take place.

A capacity to use your inner senses to some extent was necessary. I cannot explain fully, but I was dependent upon some of your abilities to some degree, and I will go into this also when I get to it. If you prefer to take a break and continue, that is perfectly all right with me. However I will leave it up to you both.

(Jane felt about the same as she did at our last break. Now that the session was over she realized that she’d had hardly any consciousness of what was going on through the whole thing. Yet, she didn’t feel as tired as usual. We had little thought of continuing however.

(“Well Seth, that was great but we’ve decided to call it a night.”

(We had company. I had just finished my first small glass of wine when a wave of “feeling” swept over me from foot to head. It was like a magnified tingling, or thrilling, suffusing the whole body, flooding up my legs into the abdominal and chest cavities; I was left feeling as though I might be lifted up and swept away. The first time the sensation was not as strong as the next two times. When it first swept over me, I wondered if the wine was responsible, though actually I had drunk very little.

(I waited quietly, and in a moment or two the sensation was gone. I was balanced on an arm of our davenport talking to our company. I had the odd feeling that the sensation was related both to the subject of conversation, and to some kind of message or communication I sensed or felt within; I believe that each time I experienced it, I was involved in talk about other people; relatives, children or perhaps parents.

(The next two sensations appeared somewhat later in the evening. The second one came perhaps after 11:30 PM, while we were sitting around the table eating. This sensation was so strong that I put down my sandwich and took off my glasses, because I literally did not know what to expect next. The wave of feeling washed over me very strongly. Although everyone about me was talking quite loudly, I had the weird sensation of voices within me, of mouths open or crying in soundless rhythm. I also felt, or sensed or perhaps glimpsed, a great chute or trough or pathway of some kind that reached down into me from above me, or at least from outside of me. I definitely felt apprehensive on this second occasion; I thought of some kind of attack, although there was no pain of any kind. The sensation in my chest was very strong. I believe, now that I look back, that this time I barely glimpsed the possibility that this might be an attempt at communication with me, from where I don’t know, or that perhaps it might be a premonitory warning. I believe I thought of my aging parents, but am not sure.

(The third time, after 12:30 AM, I was standing in the doorway to our kitchen talking to Jane when I had the sensation. This time it was not as strong. Even then, I was not quick-witted enough to capitalize upon it, perhaps by asking questions aloud. I was too involved, too swept up by this feeling, to be that objective on such short notice.

(But now, the next day, the memory still lingers. What was it? Maybe Seth will know.

(While writing out this statement, I am reminded that I experienced the same sensation, one time in a milder form, about a year ago. It happened on my job at Artistic Card Co., at noon. I was alone in the art room, eating lunch at my desk, when the feeling swept over me from head to foot. There was no warning, no pain, but the surprise of it doubled me over my desk. I was of course frightened momentarily, thinking of some kind of attack, but it quickly passed and did not return. I happened to be alone at the time.

(I remember that I stood up and paced about for a few moments. Within a short time I forgot about it, until now. I recall that in a recent session Seth said that I had called for help. I had not left my full-time job at Artistic then, but was close to doing so, and at the time I had not been feeling well. Also, when I had the experience last Saturday, I was not feeling my best. As best I can remember, I did not tell Jane of the sensation I experienced at Artistic a year ago.

(I wonder now: Had I again called for help? Was this an attempt at an answer?