“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

DELETED SESSION

(After In Search Of ended on TV at 2:30 Jane read the draft of my note for session 896 for Dreams, in which I wanted to know whether she’d ever willed herself sick [as I had] when a youngster, in order to avoid something I wanted to get out of doing. She said she had, and gave me the infomation I needed to complete the note tomorrow morning.

(3:10. Jane began reading yesterday’s session—not too well to start, but better as she went along.

(3:30. Jane finished reading the session. Debbie had visited her last night, and received the money I’d left for her. There is a package wrapped in brown paper in the closet of 330, that I’m not supposed to touch.

(3:50. Jane did a few mild motions with her head and shoulders and left foot—to the same extent as she’s been doing in recent days. A couple of minutes later she said, “Every time I start to compose myself for a session my legs start moving—but I shouldn’t complain about that, should I? I guess I’ll try to start.”)

There are comments pertaining to Ruburt’s condition. You were quite right in your material (at the end of the last session) concerning Ruburt’s religious conditioning, in connection with his physical problems.

(4:00 PM. We’d had no interruptions. I read the session to Jane. “That session could be quite significant,” I said. I was also puzzled. I asked Jane if Seth’s use of the word “explosive” was apropos, and she said it pretty well was. This made me realize that the episode had been much stronger and longer-lasting than I’d thought.

(4:38. “I thought Seth would come back,” Jane said, “but it’s getting late.” I told her I was ready at any time. Resume the session at 4:45.)

As usual the session format itself forms a framework for the acceleration of the healing process—and also enriches your own life as well.

(And Jane, now I’ll tell you that as you had a crying spell last night—so have I at various times since you went into the hospital last April. I remember that once I woke up in bed, after midnight, and burst into tears as I thought about you. The spell must have lasted for at least half an hour; it went on and on. Other times I would suddenly begin crying as I ate breakfast, or heard a familiar song on television, or sat at my typewriter working on Dreams. I always knew that these episodes were therapeutic. They began to taper off after you resumed the sessions in early October, and I haven’t had one now—not outright crying—for several weeks. But for a long time—months—I lived with tears just beneath the surface, you might say, as I wondered what was going to happen to us, why you were so sick, what we’d done wrong all those years, and so forth. I learned to live with those feelings, but it was a different kind of life than I’d ever known. For a long while I was resigned to them.