“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(Jane still nods off as she sits in her chair, especially after supper, which we take to be an indication that her thyroid is still below par, although she’s much improved in that regard over her condition before she entered the hospital. The drifting off worries her, however. Even as I sat beside her at the round card table in the living room, writing these notes, she kept nodding off into sleep. I’d spent some little time trying to talk her into a short session to begin with, and she’d finally agreed to try for one. It was 8:52 when she really fell asleep in her chair, for perhaps the tenth time. I could see that we’d get no session tonight. Yet she woke up. “I’m just waiting—I feel so funny....”

(Pause at 9:10.) To such a degree, of course, the affair was, then, therapeutic. (Pause.) Ruburt is now far more willing to make certain changes in his life than he was earlier, and he sees himself more as one of a living congregation of creatures—less isolated than before, stripped down from the superperfect model, and therefore no more under the compulsion to live up to such a psychological bondage (all with some emphasis). He need not try to be the perfect self, then, the super-image—and in fact to some extent found himself the supplicative (self?), knocking upon creaturehood’s earthly door, as any creature might ask aid from another who found himself wounded through misadventure. He found a mixed world—one hardly black or white, one with some considerable give-and-take, in which under even the most regrettable of circumstances there was (underlined) room for some action, for some improvement, for some decision, for some creative response. The rules of the game have therefore been automatically altered. The issues are clearer, dramatically etched.