“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(I’m sure my improved attitude resulted from the last two sessions—plus other recent ones—but I have resolved anew that I must simply concentrate upon my creative work each day, see Jane and help her as much as I can, and spare my body consciousness the needless stress of worrying about the future. I must let the rest of the world go its own way. This doesn’t mean that I make believe we have no challenges, but that I for one refuse to dwell upon them, so as to not draw forth unwanted probabilities. I have also renewed my faith and expectations that Jane and I will get what we want. When I find myself beginning to worry about some hassle, I deliberately turn my mind away. It’s ultimately the only way I can function creatively on a day-by-day basis. Knowing that relieves me of spending my valuable time in adversarial positions and activities. This all means, obviously, that we do need help from others—whether they be lawyers, doctors, nurses, publishers, or whatever, and this way we stay in contact with the rest of our world.

(She showed me how she can still reach across her chest and up toward her left shoulder with her right hand and arm—a motion she began yesterday.

(3:45. “It’s me.” Jane was bothered by leg and bladder spasms at the same time. She said her legs worked well in hydro this morning.

(Not long after the session was over I told Jane I meant to ask Seth to comment on the vivid dream I’d had last night about the Gallaghers and an unkempt young man who was living with them. I’d described it to Jane earlier. Suffice it to note that I saw Peg and Bill living in squalor in a crude house on a barge or houseboat, with dirt floors, old furniture, and so forth. I’d surmised that their living conditions, in spite of the money they’d earned all their lives, represented their poor belief systems. And that, maybe, the young man they’d taken in represented me as I’d used to be, or a perpetuation of their belief systems into later generations.

(4:45. Jane tried to turn over herself, but couldn’t quite make it. She’s tried to do so for me several times, without success so far, but has succeeded a few times in the mornings.

(Jean Reome called this afternoon, is anxious to get back to work; talked to Jane also. Margaret Bumbalo invited me over for supper, and I didn’t know whether to accept or not, since I wanted to be sure I got this session typed. But I went, and it was very enjoyable. Soon they’ll leave for Florida. Margaret said that when she looks at Jane now she sees something beside skin stretched over bone. “She’s got something there now—she’s even getting a pot.”