“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(The 68th envelope object was a poem Jane wrote to me on the evening of July 3,1966. It was written with a dark pen on a sheet of yellow paper, not punched, and the size of this page. The sheet was folded as indicated above, then enclosed between the usual two pieces of Bristol and inserted into the usual double envelopes. The back side of the sheet was blank. I knew nothing of the circumstances under which Jane wrote the poem, and hoped the data would fill me in. Details in their proper place.

(Jane began speaking while sitting down and with her eyes closed. They soon began to open. Her voice was average, with some pauses.

(Long pause.) Now. Ruburt sent a message and it was received. I am referring to the visit of your friend today.

(This noon our friend Jim Beckett visited us for the first time in some months. Jim used to be a TV repairman. Last evening our TV set was acting up, and Jane wished aloud that Jim would visit us and fix the set, as he has done in the past.

The pendulum is an excellent method of discovering your subconscious feelings, and indeed of changing them. As you both suppose, incidentally, the music you played this evening was highly beneficial from several standpoints. (Yma Sumac.) Any connection with past periods of productivity or joy have immediate reference to the present. As negative suggestions play their part, so do positive suggestions, and both in terms of symbols.

Then a door was closed. The girl reminded you, through some association, with Emma Martin of that time.

(This was very interesting, and a surprise to me. Recently I have been using suggestion rather successfully on hay fever, following Seth’s ideas. Friday was a good day. We had company Friday evening—Marilyn and Don Wilbur, Don’s brother and a girl named Pat, whom we do not know.

(Later that evening hay fever seemed to get the best of me and I had a poor weekend. I was mystified as to the cause. The pendulum told me I reacted to the group Friday evening. However I had never reacted to the Wilburs before, so I was still puzzled.

(Dr. and Emma Martin are old friends of my parents, and their age—early seventies, or nearly so. I have childhood memories of them, of course. As soon as Seth mentioned it, I immediately saw a distinct resemblance between Emma Martin, as she had been, and the young girl Pat. The smile in both was much alike. Consciously I had made no such connection however, before Seth mentioned it, but had sensed something familiar about Pat Friday evening.

(Break at 9:24. Jane was dissociated as usual. Her eyes opened often. She resumed in the same manner at 9:34.)

Your father used hay fever as a symptom of helplessness, and as a demand for the attention that he did not get, even then, from your mother. The pattern was set earlier in his childhood. He discarded the symptoms because they did not get him what he wanted. Your mother could not be bothered.

She did not comfort him as his mother had. You picked up the condition when he realized that it no longer served him. At that time you accepted it, however, along with your conception of what it was to be a male. If you had a son and did not know what you know, you would automatically so transfer it.

You are not helping your father, for the symptoms will not revert to him. Your system will simply reorganize the energy pattern. There was another element. Your mother treated you as hers exclusively. You also adopted the symptoms as a protective measure against her. You said in effect, “I am my father’s son, down to some of his defects.”

All of this information will be immeasurably helpful to you. Your father’s hay fever was a defense also against farm work, you see.

There was an afternoon… I am not clear here…. You were given cod liver oil. The symptoms began that day. You should not eat salads at your parents’ home, that are mixed with oil, during the season.

Hay fever was for your father also a defense against the world, for it allowed him some isolation. You can have the necessary privacy without using this symptom to get it. The ink has a symbolic association for you personally, a healing one you see, and its presence, according to my recommendation, has the effect of a mood tonic.

(Break at 9:52. Jane was out as usual. Her manner was very active, often smiling and emphatic, her eyes open much of the time, etc. I had a sneezing spell at break, probably because of the emotional content of the above material.

(Jane said she did not know I had taken cod liver oil as a child. I remember doing this, and disliking it intensely. My parents have told me often that I displayed hay fever symptoms by the age of 3 or so, so evidently the first cod liver oil episode was earlier than this, and before my conscious memory. Jane insisted I hadn’t mentioned cod liver oil to her, though I had discussed castor oil.

He was, or appeared to be, crying, and you saw him. A rather soundless sobbing that involved running eyes and nose. I believe this was in the afternoon, around four. I think your mother and the young boy were out—

(There was a knock on our door at 10:05. Jane stopped speaking and left her trance easily. She answered the door and explained that we were busy, and company left. By 10:08 she had resumed her seat and began speaking again.)

I believe a watch was somehow involved. He lost it, or someone broke it. It may have been his own father’s watch. Perhaps your mother broke it in anger, but I am not sure of this.

A distant connection in the past, with a gathering that was formal, I believe… not certain here… With dancing (gesture, eyes closed) as at a wedding reception perhaps.

(Break at 10:27. Jane was out as usual, and her eyes remained closed. Her pace had been average. Images will be mentioned as they occurred.

(See the tracing on page 1 and the notes that follow. As stated I knew nothing of the circumstances under which Jane produced the poem used as object. During the delivery of the data however I forgot this, and as a result it seemed to me that the data was off target. It was quite legitimate. But at the time I nearly asked Jane to try again, and was also somewhat at a loss as to what questions to ask. Had I asked Jane to try again it might have led to confusion.

(I was also concerned that the interruption would somehow interfere with the data, and after break Seth confirms that this happened to some extent.

(After supper on the evening of July 3,1966 Jane sat in the backyard. It was not yet dark. Also in the backyard were the girl who lives in the downstairs back apartment, Barbara, and her steady boyfriend Dick. Both are in their thirties. As they sat in lawn chairs, they asked Jane to have a drink with them. This surprised Jane, for she saw that Dick was angry with Barbara for teasing him about marriage. Also, Jane felt that being asked to share a drink with the couple was a gesture, and that when she accepted Dick was not happy about it.

(This in turn made Jane angry. Barbara and Dick went into Barbara’s apartment to mix Jane a drink. While they were inside, Jane wrote the poem to me that was used as tonight’s object.

(I had been moody myself that day, and finally lay down for a nap—hence the subject matter for Jane’s poem. Jane wondered why the couple asked her to share a drink if they didn’t mean it. Dick, especially, seemed to give Jane this feeling. Note that much of the data concerns the three people involved in the poem’s psychic surroundings at the time of creation; and that indeed this feeling on Jane’s part overrides the data pertaining directly to the object itself in most cases tonight. But Jane’s perception of the object was necessary in order for her to give the data pertaining to Barbara and Dick, and her own feelings.

(“Stirrup. No, something stirred up.” The drink that Barbara’s boyfriend Dick gave Jane, in the episode just described in the backyard on July 3,1966, was a mixed drink, a Wink-and-gin. This drink is the one referred to in the fourth line of the poem used as object.

(Also, Jane said, the term stirred up could refer to Dick, who was angry or stirred up, and to the fact that it was Dick who stirred the drink.

(“Twelve, or one, two.” Jane said this was Seth’s way of leading her, by counting, to the next data, referring to three people.

(“A distant connection in the past, with a gathering that was formal, I believe… not certain here… with dancing as at a wedding reception perhaps. Through personal association with my last remark, Ruburt is led to think of the coming D’Andreano wedding.” As stated, Jane was quite embarrassed at the teasing Dick had taken from Barbara about marriage the evening of July 3, and by Dick’s obvious anger. The wedding talk here thus links up with a wedding Jane and I attended perhaps nine years ago in Rochester, NY—that of my brother Dick and Ida D’Andreano. This was a formal occasion for which Jane and I were dressed formally, and at the lengthy reception afterwards there was much dancing, etc.

(In addition, within the past month we have received an announcement of the forthcoming marriage of another D’Andreano, Louie, also in Rochester. We have been invited. Louie witnessed a session a couple of year ago, and was interested in this material for some time. This new wedding, we think, freshens the D’Andreano association. We think there is also another association involving this data—the fact that the two Dicks were involved—Dick in the backyard, and my own brother Dick in Rochester.

(“A connection with February 3, I believe.” We don’t know. The poem used as envelope object was written on July 3. If the Feb. 3 data is connected to the immediately following, we do not know how.

(“With a rose.” Jane thinks this a legitimate connection, but somewhat removed. Barbara, who paints, has painted a picture of a violin that she wanted to show me. I have also painted a picture of a violin. It was done perhaps twenty years ago and hangs in my parents’ home. My painting includes some wax roses.

(“Connection with a journey, and invitation.” Jane believes these apply in the following manner: Barbara’s boyfriend Dick lives perhaps 25 miles away, and thus had to journey to see her on the night the three people were grouped in the yard, when Jane produced the poem used as object. Invitation can apply through Barbara’s talk about marriage to Dick. It also applies through Barbara calling to me to join the threesome; she thought I was in the studio. I had instead begun taking a nap and did not hear.

(“The words ‘A fine form of a woman’.” Jane says this is a clear-enough reference to a remark Dick made when the group of three was sitting in the yard with their drinks, on the evening Jane wrote the poem used as object. Barbara asked Dick why he shouldn’t get married. Dick replied there was no reason he should, since he now sat with “two fine women,” both of them good looking; or words to that effect.

(“A yellow square.” The poem to me was written by Jane on a piece of yellow typing paper the size of this page, and folded as indicated in the tracing on page 1. Jane had an image of a small yellow square. The object was folded into a rectangular shape, actually.

(Note that most of tonight’s data stems from the strong emotional charges surrounding the gathering of Barbara, Dick and Jane in the backyard, during the time Jane wrote the poem to me used as object. I had picked the poem as object in the frank hope that it would have strong emotional attraction for Jane. But this was overridden by the events and feelings engendered in the meeting of the three people.

(“Black and white. Please reply.” This is another reference to the upcoming wedding of Louie D’Andreano, to which Jane and I have been invited. The announcement was printed in black ink on white, as is usual. It also requested that Jane and I reply in writing as to whether we planned to attend. Once again, the D’Andreano wedding data, involving the present one concerning Louie, and the distant one concerning my brother Dick, is called up by Jane’s associations, because of the marriage talk between Barbara and Dick on the evening of July 3,1966, when Jane wrote the poem used as object.

(First Question: Can you say more about the yellow square? “I have the image of a small, neat yellow square, in a lower right hand position.” By now Jane had lowered the envelope from her usual position against her forehead, and sat with it dangling by one corner from her right hand; her right arm extended forward and down over the arm of the rocker. It is possible the yellow object inside the sealed envelope had settled into a corner. But it was a rectangular rather than square object.

(2nd Question: Who is the woman referred to in the card and portrait? “The woman I believe strange to you, or at least in different surroundings or attire.” Jane was puzzled here. At break she said this data was an attempt by Seth to get her away from the D’Andreano family, the members of whom we know relatively well, back to Barbara, the newcomer to our apartment house, who is a relative stranger to us.

(3rd Question: Who are the three people involved? “Two women perhaps and a man. One of the woman in the background.” As stated on page 6, three people, two women and a man, were involved in the circumstances surrounding the creation of the poem used as object, on the evening of July 3,1966: Jane, Barbara and Dick. In this context it would seem that Barbara would be the woman in the background, since the actual envelope object was an item of Jane’s. Other interpretations could reverse this order however. We could wish the data were clearer.

(“However others are involved also.” Jane said this was a reference to me, lying asleep upstairs. She wrote the poem used as object to me. In physical terms I was quite close to the group as I lay asleep. They were sitting no more than 30 feet away; our bedroom being at the back of our apartment, on the second floor.

(“37 here and a magistrate connection.” Jane herself is 37 years old, and Barbara’s boyfriend Dick is either that age also or very close to it. The magistrate connection arises out of the wedding conversation which was a feature of the group’s gathering on the evening of July 3.

(4th Question: What’s that four plus one? “Four plus one life. Vito.” This is enigmatic to us, although the Vito connection is clear. Vito is one of the sons in the D’Andreano family and was married a couple of years ago. Thus Jane returned here to the wedding idea through the D’Andreano family.

The interruption did cause poor reception for the envelope data. Under the circumstances however it was adequate.

1812 (pause) was a distant connection at best. Ruburt and the man (meaning Barbara’s boyfriend, Dick) spoke of Jamieson. (The art director of the Arnot Art Gallery at the time Jane worked there). This was a poor association, leading to the Victorian room at the gallery, you see.

(End at 11:01. Jane was dissociated as usual.)