“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(This is the first session we’ve had since March 6. I think Jane held it only because I haven’t been feeling well for several weeks. She’s only now really recovering from the cold she picked up from RW early last month; and somehow she also got off the track of the sessions.

(My own hassles with my side, groin and scrotum are the usual ones I’ve had at times before—especially last year at this time. My painting hasn’t been going well lately, and I’ve been concerned about that. Actually I’m trying a number of different painting approaches, and think I got sidetracked into too much experimentation, so as I told Jane I’m sure painting is involved in my upsets. However, at various times the pendulum has given me all kinds of other reasons for my physical ills: taxes, money, Jane’s symptoms, success and failure—the works, one might say. I was pretty disgusted and out of sorts by this evening. Still, through it all I’ve been sleeping well and eating okay also. I don’t suppose this description adequately describes the depth of my feelings, since I’ve really been bothered for some time, to the extent that I no longer feel free physically, and once again have contemplated seeking medical help as a last resort.

(For the past week we’ve been trying a “new” treatment for Jane’s symptoms —one we read about recently, and which involves the application of cold packs to her knees and hands for starters. She’s had some encouraging results, and we plan to give the idea a good try. It’s the opposite of the usual treatment—heat—given for her kind of difficulties.

(A hard, refreshing spring rain, with thunder and lightning, was drumming against the house as we sat for the session. Very invigorating, to coin a phrase. It was warm. As I’ve told Jane several times lately, the renewing rain reminded me once again of the wonders of nature, and I thought once again of living a natural life outdoors in the environment of woods and elements, summer and winter. Maybe I did this in one life or another. But I often feel such stirrings on my late night walks on the hilly, shadowed streets neighboring our own Pinnacle Road.