“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(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.

(“Boston...avenue...Nina,” [whispered; mouth odd again] “stolen... picture about the river. Movie...” Jane rubbed her upper left arm, muttering. “My arm hurts.” Again Jane jumped on the couch, her mouth odd. She bent forward, eyes closed, and reached down toward the floor. “There’s something on the floor of the car... floor hanging out..?” She kicked off her shoes and sat with her legs doubled under. Again she was upset. Her right hand against her cheek, head down, moving about.

(“There were two cars,” Jane cried out, glasses thrown aside. Mouth odd. “So quiet ... am I dead? Right there... arm’s funny.” Now she rubbed her lower left arm; she cried out, voice rising almost to a scream: “I was driving. Can’t make out—!” Jane burst into tears. “Papa, Papa, Papa...” I spoke to her loudly but it did no good. “I... Papa should know it wasn’t my fault. Brakes bad... I can’t decipher...”

(There was a pause at 10:47. For the first time Jane’s eyes opened. Wide, they stared straight ahead, toward the bookcase. I soon saw that she was not seeing anything in the usual sense; nor did she hear me. Then her eyes closed. “Robby, tell them, whoever they are...they shouldn’t be here. It’s all right...”

(Jane now recalled that the car’s right door was open. Wherever the car was, it was off the road and down a bank, with grass and brush or bushes. Jane said she doesn’t know what streets are like in the city [although she was in New York City last year with me]—if the road in the experience was a superhighway in the city, there was still the slope, not level, going down from the road.

(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.”