“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(Jane and I have been very upset over the holidays about her eye condition, and my chest disturbances. Both have been very worrisome. I even talked about seeing a doctor on both counts. Our original understanding was that the eye condition would pass rather quickly once Jane began to loosen up—but now it appears to be another fixed state in the general scheme of our lives. We’ve had a number of discussions about the whole business, and what we can do about any of it. I’m afraid we felt little to cheer about. We planned for a session last night but it didn’t develop.

Now, good evening.

Your intellect operates beautifully in the notes and appendixes of “Unknown,” but instead of rejoicing in it, you wonder if your notes lack the very kind of emotionalism that would make that particular kind of clear intellectual objectivity most difficult. When you are writing you are pleased, finally at least, with the working of your mind—but angry that you are not painting. When you are painting you feel guilty not only because the painting does not bring in money—by now not that much of a concern, only a nagging accusation—but there also you haggle at your intellect. You wish for the intensified emotional preoccupation that would close your mind to all else but painting.

Because you have that knowledge, you do not realize the frustration felt by those whose words have little if any—overall, now—impact, practically speaking. Your mental and emotional horizons have broadened, so that you now take for granted a mental world that others do indeed, and properly, look upon with wonder.

Now I bid you a fond good evening—and I hope you will use this session, with all of its implications.