“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

For reasons of convenience on your part, completely unscheduled sessions would not be practical. With your permission, we may attempt to take better advantage of such peaks of activity in the future, but if and when we do we will still maintain a general practice of not holding more than two sessions a week.

At some still rather far date, the present rigidity of our schedule may give way to a more spontaneous framework. Such a future framework, and a method whereby we take fuller advantage of high peaks would also tend to cut down distortions. This would obviously be most valuable.

This kind of procedure, while appearing less disciplined, would in actuality require added discipline, since this would be necessary to avoid the imbalance of either too many or too few sessions.

If the procedure were attempted prematurely it would also tend to place an added strain upon you both, particularly upon Ruburt, who would have to make the decision in the last analysis.

It is a fact that alcohol is a depressant, that conscious inhibitions become lessened with indulgence of varying degrees. Ruburt has not indulged to any degree. Since, however, he has noticed that occasionally, without touching a drop of wine during a given session, he nevertheless feels as if he had been indulging, so I would like to make a brief explanation.

(Jane smiled as she paced about the room. I had heard her mention often that after a session she would feel as though she had drank a little too much. She is rather in the habit of sipping at something during sessions, since she uses her voice constantly. If she uses wine it is seldom more than a glass or two. Most often she favors milk or iced coffee.)

There is little danger here except under the most unusual circumstances, merely an inconvenience or a feeling of disagreeability on your parts. Actually there is only a certain rather well-defined period within which the dissociation is conducive to our sessions. That is, while Ruburt drinks socially to some quite limited extent really, the fine balance of dissociation that allows our sessions to begin would not be possible, if for example our Ruburt drank more some evening than good sense would ordinarily permit.

He has wondered about this. However, he does not have to worry ordinarily about beginning a session on the spur of the moment under the influence of too much drink. If he had truly that much, he simply would not be capable of a session, even if I were idiotic enough to agree to one. And I assure you that I would not be.

I must tell you however, that a session begun through mistake, so to speak, after a few drinks, would not suffer as far as the material itself were concerned. I mention the affair in general merely so that you can be alert to the possibilities, and to aid Ruburt in the development of his inner distinctions.

Under circumstances of which I do not approve, I will not permit a session. My distinctions are not always the same sort as your own, however. There are certain social, peculiar niceties that are held in changing, shifting, sometimes meaningless patterns, to which I would not respond. That is, I simply would not be attuned myself to social situations or social transgressions, or what might seem social transgressions to you.

I would always catch any real possibility of danger. I would catch any occurrence that would be strongly disagreeable if it were actually going to occur. I would know beforehand, but I am not necessarily aware of what you might consider possibilities in that line, unless I use particular effort, so these possibilities are not considered by me. In the particular instance that we are discussing, if such a session would have led, if held, to a strongly unfortunate situation, then I would know in advance, and not hold such a session.

I would suggest when it is convenient that your recorder be repaired, and that it be kept in a handy place in this room, set up for recording for any occasions when I could speak less formally, that is also quicker, conversationally, without the need of your taking notes.

This would not happen very frequently, since in the long run it involves just as much work on your part, in then transcribing from the machine.

(Seth’s remarks about the recorder point up the reason we do not use it to routinely record the sessions for later transcription. Not only would I sit through the session with Jane even though we were recording, but in doing the transcription I would have to expend an equal amount of time listening to the session again, plus the time necessary for typing, and starting and stopping many times.)

(November 3, Tuesday 7 AM: Getting dressed for work this morning, I abruptly had the rather clear thought that I should walk back to my studio and look out the back windows, because I would be able to see that a car was parked in front of the garage, blocking the exit of my car from the garage. Looking out the windows, I received a jolt when I did see a car so parked, blocking off the exit of my own car.

(A rather crazy experience today—I will separate it into parts as it was divided, part in the morning and part in the afternoon. I am writing this while I am still not myself as I do not want to fall off to sleep as I am tempted to do, don’t think it wise, and would like to describe both experiences while they are still fresh.

(Then I was angry because I had been frightened but was still cautious and didn’t want to get in over my head. Told myself then that I could travel anyplace safely and return safely but that I would go slowly; that I was safe and confident and would welcome such a valid experience. Feeling resumed of bed disappearing beneath my hands. Strong red color behind closed eyelids. Feeling of heat in head, shoulders, back of neck, and then cold in same places. Sense of expanded radius inside closed eyelids. Then felt as if legs, arms, belly...dissolved, I guess is the best description. Feeling of suspension but not of motion. Then the alarm rang, yet still I lay there, had some slight difficulty in opening eyes but did so. Even with eyes open feeling of being suspended continued. Felt some resistance [on chest?] against rising, but decided it was not wise to experiment beyond normal time limit, and got up.

(Remember going to post office. Regular store was closed due to death in family, sign on door said this, and a woman going by so informed me. Decided to go to another store though this would make a longer trip than I had planned. Stood on corner to cross street. Telephone company men working on wires; two men high on pole. One man on road. Somehow the wire dropped, came down, falling maybe two feet from where I stood. I never noticed; it didn’t seem important. Ordinarily I would have jumped.

(Left; started way home. By now, however, felt as if lightness rose through body, and this changed so that suddenly I felt as if lower part of body had dissolved completely, up to chest. No muscular knowledge of carrying bag with three quarts of milk, and book and cigarettes that I’d purchased at all. Suddenly worried; realized for the first time that I wasn’t in state of something like just plain extraordinary good humor or good health or ordinary but unusual exuberance. First, I was aware that I felt as if body had dissolved below chest; but then thought that it really might have. Went up curb on Church St.; beyond doubt it took no effort at all; the usual effort you feel in lifting feet for steps. Shoes bothered me though; they seemed heavy, holding me down. I know this is silly, but felt scared that if lower part of body was dissolved; and all that was left was chest and shoulder and head region, then I would just fall down; a chest, shoulders, and head on street. Didn’t think I was going to do this; but the image popped into my head. By this time, worried to some degree but still enjoying the delightful...suspension...looked from Walnut Street through yards, to my own windows that showed through trees. Noticed that it seemed that I was floating by...rather than walking. Afraid I might...leave body or something...unprotected in street. Got home. Told Rob. He made me drink coffee, had me sniff ammonia.

(As soon as Jane returned home from doing her errands and mentioned that she still “felt funny”, I suspected that we would see something like a repetition of her adventure of January 10, 1964, Volume 1, page 83. On page 89, in the 100th session, Seth had stated that Jane could allow herself more freedom now, and since she had mentioned the feeling of what she calls ecstasy to me this noon, I thought she was indeed doing more than usual. I also wondered whether she had done too much.

(Again, see my notes on pages 89-90, concerning Jane’s ecstasy. From some of her recent psy-time experiments I had thought she was close to achieving that state again. She had been giving herself suggestion lately, that she would be able to travel psychically, during her experiments. From the following session it will be seen that Jane was correct in thinking that the rushing-out sensation she felt, through the top of her head, was definitely an attempt at traveling.

(When she returned home her eyes were very clear, her skin color good, her pulse normal. Her hands also felt normal. Her manner was quite smiling and relaxed and at the same time surprised. I was not concerned particularly, except on the general score that in these experiments I prefer to make haste slowly. She had no trouble talking, although as she walked about at times I noticed a lilt to her step; at other times her knees would bend a little more than usual, as though her legs were rubbery; but to no great degree.

(I made her coffee, which she did not seem to want very much. The ammonia capsule we tried as an experiment; we did not think she needed it, but we wanted to see what effect the pungent odor, being a kind of shock, would have. It had none that we could detect, except that Jane coughed briefly. I talked of a cold shower but we did not try it.