“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(Tuesday. Last night I had a very interesting, and at the same time almost a bothersome dream: I dreamed that while I was with Margaret and Joe Bumbalo and their son John, I discovered I was a latent homosexual. I don’t know how I found out. Margaret said something to me like, “There now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” as all of us sat on a swing on their front porch. In the dream also were an Oriental-looking mother, not too old, with a nice-looking daughter who had beautiful slanting eyes and a very quiet demeanor. It was the kind of dream one returns to several times, and I assume I’ve forgotten portions of it. When I got up at 6:15, with the dream still on my mind, I thought at first that it might have reincarnational overtones, yet I didn’t really think so.

About your dream: (Pause.) You were telepathically picking up some of the thoughts of Joe Bumbalo as he suspiciously wondered about John, because John’s talents and abilities struck him as being too feminine.

At the same time, Joe holds you in fond regard—yet your abilities also were not those that he traditionally assigned to manhood: men did not paint pictures. You were aware of these considerations, and they formed part of the basis for your dream.

Joe’s dilemma reminded you of the attitudes of your own parents, and you sympathized with John. At the same time, you recognized that John’s job as a waiter also involved him with nourishment—that is, physically and symbolically—and the dream was simply restating the fact that the intuitive faculties, often considered solely female, actually involved those qualities of creativity and emotion that held family units together. Promoting life within art, and physical life also as it is generally understood.

(4:02 PM. I read the session back to Jane. I told her that Seth had done an excellent job of analyzing the dream. I reminded her of the Oriental woman and daughter in the dream, since Seth hadn’t mentioned them. Jane thought I’d forgotten to tell her about those elements, although I thought I had. Anyhow, on her own she said that the Oriental women further represented to Joe Bumbalo his ideas that son John’s abilities weren’t American—that, indeed, they were unAmerican, foreign to male sexuality, feminine. She made an excellent point.

(This attitude also fit in with that which Joe had expressed to me during last fall’s World Series in baseball: Looking at the ballplayers with their long hair, mustaches and beards, Joe had asked me where the youth of America was. “You’re looking at it,” I told him. Joe had said it wasn’t right for young men to let themselves go that way. I don’t think he was aware of the humor of the whole situation. I’d described it to Jane at the time.