“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(3:05. Jane started reading yesterday’s session, but didn’t do very well. Her eyes were very red. I’d cleaned her glasses and changed the Duoderm on the bridge of her nose, which helped.

(Naturally the book has been endorsed by all the right scientists and organizations and reviewers. “Suppose those people had endorsed your stuff like that?” I asked Jane. “I’d disown it,” she replied. Actually, the beasts and birds and fishes pictured in the book all seemed to be regressive, rather than to show what true progress in evolution might be like. I thought it really was a reflection of the author’s fears more than anything else. Jane and I spent some little time discussing it. But then, it’s impossible to write about evolution without contradicting oneself—if one believes in it, I said. The same goes for the current theories of “the origin of life” in scientific terms. There’s a section on that in the book, full of words like perhaps, maybe, must have, some, probably, could have, and so forth. What a pity. I said to Jane, that in my hand I held the best man could do about understanding his origins at this time. Pathetic.

(Long pause at 4:21.) Your own love for each other, accentuated by the Christmas season and your anniversary, also helped give impetus for those improvements. The body does not just work part by part—but its motions are also the result of unseen organizations and connections that unite the various parts of the body. These inner organizations are difficult for the intellect to understand, for they handle intuitive matters and symbols much as dreams do.

He functions in a nightly dream world in the same fashion, and only when or if you begin to distrust dreams do you hesitate or falter, or feel afraid to move, and also feel as if you are caught in a nightmare. What happens in either case is that you impede your own rhythm. You do not trust your own spontaneity of motion—but spontaneity of motion is a true order of all life, in whatever form.

I do not mean that questioning is unfortunate, or in any way detrimental. I am speaking of a lack of faith that makes you question what earlier you had taken for granted.

It would take some time to do so properly. As Ruburt suggested, the work is a kind of story. The author is basically too unsure of himself to call the book either fiction or nonfiction—thus he saves himself from answering many intelligent questions by saying this is conjecture, even while he takes shelter under the name of science.

(I also suggested to Jane that if she began another Seth book, we do it without notes—straight Seth, with her writing her own introduction, say. I could always contribute an intro also. But this way, I said, we could publish works without delay, and stay even with our output. No more falling two or three or four years behind. Any other writing I might do could be on my own.