“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(I painted as usual until about 8 PM. As I worked however I was aware that Jane was even quieter; this is always a signal to me that something is up. She said she’d felt strange since supper; now she said she felt that we shouldn’t be so subjectively aware, now; but that we should be as our future selves, observing the present scene and our physical bodies as they sat in the living room, from the outside.

(Jane didn’t see or hear anything different, yet felt that the kitchen, living room, and the studio seemed different somehow. As we sat in the living room, which was very clean and neat, and well lit now since darkness was falling, Jane said she felt a sort of pyramid or cone effect, directed at me as I sat across the room from her in the rocker.

(At 9:45 she told me to get the Seth notebook, that we might have a session after all. Her subjective feelings were quite intensified. She felt “intensities” now in various parts of the room—notably by the built-in bookcase at the far end of the room from the windows. She thought Seth’s entity might be looking us over. Various parts of the room seemed to acquire significance in ways she couldn’t explain. Willy, our cat, asleep in a chair near me, wasn’t involved. The intensity traveled; now it was located in the blue wine decanter given to us by our friend Pete from San Diego, California.

(Jane said it was “like following a psychic focus around the room,” which I thought an apt phrase. It was a feeling “almost like something could form.” Both of us kept looking about. Jane spoke aloud, requesting that if anybody was around they let us see them or become aware of them somehow. She felt suspenseful.

(Jane now also felt sensations or vibrations in a small plaster sculp of a head, given to us by Bill Macdonnel. This head sat on our living room table across the room from the wine decanter. Note that Bill is also in California now—Santa Barbara—quite a distance up the coast from San Diego, where Pete lives. [Pete, at the moment as far as we know, is in the Hawaiian Islands.] Bill and Pete met once at our apartment two years ago.

(The colors in the room by now seemed very brilliant to Jane—pulsating. She didn’t necessarily feel Seth around, but could have held a session, she said. The top of her head “felt funny” to her. Now the eyes in the oil head I recently finished of the discarnate artist, Van Elver, seemed alive to her; the portrait hangs on a bookcase wall in our living room. Jane again walked through the apartment. Looking out at the kitchen from the studio, she said the path to the kitchen looked like a “charged pathway” to her.

(She felt strong intensities in the bathroom doorway; felt like she was a ghost, returning to the scene; everything was exceptionally vivid—so dear, so palpitating and alive. In the living room again, standing by the bookcase and looking out the windows, she felt nothing. Standing by the windows and looking into the room however she was once more aware of strong pulsations. Things sounded loud and clear; the quality of the traffic noise reminded her of the strength of color sensations.

(At 10 PM I asked Jane if she could stop the sensations. She said perhaps, then reminded me she had suggested going out earlier—a suggestion I now remembered but hadn’t heeded at the time. Sitting on the couch with her back to the windows, Jane said she felt “scary” about going into a trance now. The feelings were still climbing. She said she’d know when they subsided. She felt “slightly” out of her body to her right as she sat there, but nothing drastic.

(This afternoon we’d had a strong thunderstorm. Jane now said that as she worked in the kitchen then she’d been aware of the charged air between the thunderclaps. She felt this way now, and quite light. She again walked through the apartment, and felt the same sensations, but stronger. The bathroom, she now said, was “too much.” Everything was too clear. Sitting down on the couch again, she felt like moving to the right out of her body again. I was getting very sleepy as I sat in the rocker making these notes. I yawned and yawned, yet did not feel tired. I’d had a mild tingling sensation a few times. We talked about a projection dream Jane had had thismorning. Tam Mossman had been in it. Jane has the dream recorded.

(Jane felt that when she opened her eyes wide toward the end of the experience she’d start yelling: “Who are you? What are you doing here?” etc.; this is when she asked me to speak.

(By 11:25 PM Jane felt better, but still wanted to snap out of it all the way before she went to bed. “I feel all right, but I also feel like I could start yelling any minute, as though it’s not far away.”