“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(Jane hasn’t felt her best today: She’s had a lot of soreness because of muscular changes taking place. First she decided to see if she could have a session, then at 9:10 she decided against it. But when I said I’d return to typing Monday night’s session, in a rather humorous turnabout she decided to hold a session tonight after all. “If he comes through he’ll be doing good,” she said. “I don’t feel him around.” As I wrote these notes at 9:20, however, she did begin to feel Seth’s presence. “You’re not deserted after all,” I said.

(“I wish there were words to use besides clairvoyance or precognition,” I said, since I was somewhat reluctant to attach them to the newspaper experience. That is, at the time I hadn’t had any feeling that those qualities or terms might apply to what I’d sensed — nor do I now. Perhaps I was merely afraid the experience wasn’t clairvoyant, I said, yet I felt our vocabulary was limited in some indefinable way in such cases. A copy of my newspaper experience is attached to this session.¹

(I must say that I hadn’t expected Seth to discuss the event this evening, nor had I asked that he do so. Also, for someone who wasn’t sure they wanted to hold a session to begin with, Jane’s delivery was excellent — usually fast and quite emphatic throughout.)

I do not mean that the reunion was inevitable or predestined, but the vigor of that probability, you might say, magnified the original tension. I want Ruburt to apply all of this to his own situation, both in terms of creative endeavors and his physical situation, so that he begins to understand that he can start to react in the present to a future recovery.

I do not know how or when the two look-a-like young men met — but in my reverie I thought of the mother in question tracing back connections all the way to her son’s birth at the Elmira hospital. I envisioned the delivery rooms there, and the room where visitors see their babies (I’ve never seen those rooms in “real” life).

On the front page of the paper was a rather long story, with photographs, telling how triplets were united by “chance” last weekend in New York City — a case we hadn’t heard of in the media before now. I’d forgotten to describe my idea for a novel to Jane, but the article immediately reminded me to do so. There were similarities in the story that reminded me of my own experience. The first two of the brothers were reunited through a friend (instead of a mother, say) who noticed the resemblance between them. Turns out the three were given up for adoption at birth, and although they knew they were adopted, they didn’t know they belonged to what actually had been a quadruplet group. (A fourth brother had died at birth.) Their unknowing would match my own dreamlike idea of the two young men living in the Elmira area but not knowing of each other. Even the ages of the triplets — 19 years — places them fairly close to my son’s age of 25 in my reverie, rather than, for example, brothers in their 40s.