“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(This is the second session I’ve typed today. I was typing last night’s deleted session this morning, when at about 10:00 AM Jane said she would like to lie down briefly. She felt like passing out, she said, but I took this to mean she’d soon want to get up, as usual. Instead, she slept heavily for over an hour. I’d placed the goose-down pillow under her knees, following the suggestion given us yesterday by nurse Peggy Jowett. When I looked in on Jane at 10:30, thinking she’d want to get up, I found instead that she was sleeping heavily, with her knees and legs relaxed and “dumped” to her left in a more relaxed position than usual. I left her alone, then.

(I finished last night’s session at 11:00 AM, filed the carbons, etc., and called Jane at about 11:15, thinking that I’d get to spend half an hour in the yard before lunch. [I’d begun to mow the grass.] Jane was waking—but she was in a surprisingly uncomfortable, “sore” state involving her legs and hips. Much more than usual, she said, breathing heavily through her mouth and half-crying at the same time. It was clear something had happened: Jane said her legs were more relaxed than they’d been in years—but at the same time they were so sore she was appalled. I massaged them, and she said that action felt great but at the same time almost unendurable, so I soon stopped. I got her in her chair and out to the living room table.

(She was still half-crying with pain and upset, but told me to go out at 11:45. At the same time she said she knew the unusually intense feelings were good ones, say, as opposed to a worsening of her situation.

(I mowed some grass and filled a coffee container with forsythia I clipped from our bush on our southeast corner of the lot. Jane loved it, but almost broke down crying as I came in at noon. She asked me to get my notebook. She hadn’t read last night’s session yet, by the way. She began speaking, or dictating, to me in her own voice—not Seth’s, for instance—but it was wavering, choked with tears. Her head was bent over, her eyes closed often so that I was afraid she’d bump into her glass of Coke, and perhaps knock it over.

I feel as if this is the first sign that those psychological and physical areas are being touched or allowed to relax or release. That the soreness and so forth —really wild—was a reaction as the swirling energy was stirred (very long pause at 12:13) and allowed to escape at least partially—probably only as much as you could allow at once.

The name simply seemed to stand for all of man’s agonizing reach for greatness, and yet for the anguish that always seemed to separate himself. But in any case I felt like a divided Israel, crying out for the people to come together in peace. And what it meant was that Israel itself was a simile for the individual —that is, one person—who was (long pause) composed of so many fantasies and dreams and prophecies and hopes and angers and fears.

So for a minute I even called myself Israel, I guess, but there’s more connections here that I haven’t got. I feel that my sleep with the pillow, and my later reactions of soreness, mean that I’ve touched upon, again, those areas I’d forsaken for some time, and shoved away or whatever, and that the release of tension itself was bound to be somewhat explosive, I suppose.

(Long pause at 12:21.) It was and is pretty wild. That’s all....

(Israel is constantly in the news, of course, and we see the television reports while eating supper or later in the evening. It always seems to be bad news, full of strife and agony and grim determination to survive. In addition, a NYC station is running a serialized story called Golda, with Ingrid Bergman. Jane has seen some of this, and could have identified with the Golda Meir character as representing the soul of Israel, and well as its individuals and its multitude. There was also much publicity until a couple of days ago, about Israel returning to Egypt the last portions it held of the Sinai peninsula, and how Israel destroyed the settlement of Yamit rather than hand it over intact to the Egyptians—a haggle over a price, I believe.