“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(It might be added here that last September 2, Jane’s dream notebook reveals, Jane had a dream involving Helen McIlwain’s brother. The brother has been dead for at least five years, and quite possibly much longer, Jane states. Jane remembers the brother rather better than she remembers Helen, actually. The dream involving the brother was a rather ordinary one, Jane believes, and at least on the surface does not involve clairvoyance. Nor, superficially, does it appear to signal a communication from the brother.)

I here suggest that Ruburt break after all. Give him a glass of milk and a bit of solid food, and then if he is up to it, and I think that he shall be, we will continue.

Thinking that the words referred to the physical condition of the person whose death was foreseen, Ruburt changed them as mentioned in an effort to better the situation. You will see here that indirectly but clearly we have given you the identity of the person whose death is foreseen, particularly when I add to the positive statement, though it may appear negative, that your mother, Joseph, is in no way involved.

(Jane had paused here, groping for the right words. Standing with her eyes closed, she attempted to describe to me by gestures what she meant by eyelets and “another projection.” I didn’t get it.

I will here close the session, giving you a fairly brief one because of circumstances, and I suggest for the rest of this week that Ruburt limit his psychological time experiments to fifteen minutes a day, rather than a half-hour, simply because he is under some strain.

(A reminder might be added here that Jane obtained the December date for her mother’s death through the pendulum only. See page 128. Seth seems to be saying that the event will occur soon, but we must wait. Jane has not seen her mother for some years now; the two women do correspond regularly, however.

(Thursday, November 12, 7 AM: This morning, again while dressing for work, I had an experience very similar to the one of Tuesday, November 3. This time I did not have a clear-cut thought that I should look out my studio windows. Instead I found myself walking back to them, and looking out I saw that, again, a car was blocking the exit of my car from its garage. It was also the same car as before, belonging to a tenant living downstairs. This is, I repeat, not the usual system for parking here.