“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(“This thing has almost got the best of me,” I’d told Peggy this afternoon, “after 15 years.” I didn’t mean I hadn’t played my own role in all of it, for obviously I had. I explained to Peggy our insurance options. I stressed, however, that Jane’s challenges were still primarily psychological, and that her “cure” lay in that direction. I devoutly hope and trust that this session will mark the beginning of something very good. I demanded a session, I’d told Jane, if it was at all possible.)

(I didn’t really know what to do for her. “If I don’t make it, I’m going to die,” Jane burst out. “And I want to make it—I don’t want to die....”

(By 11 PM I’d moved Jane in her chair many times from position to position at each table. “Please, Bob, move me, move me, but don’t swing me so far out into the room, out in the middle like that....” But I had to, I explained, in order to be sure her chair legs cleared the table legs. Jane leaned far to her left again and again, yet didn’t topple over. Very gradually she seemed to calm down. There was a little shouting at me—very little—which I didn’t record, but no tears.

(The movements in the chair had to represent something in themselves—a shifting of attitudes—what else I wasn’t sure that quickly. Jane’s fear of being out in the center of the rug, away from a table she could lean on for support, could also represent her fears of abandonment, the casting away of old beliefs and fears. Often she insisted she knew what she was saying to me, but at times I felt that she didn’t, and even that some of it represented vocal dreaming. I did think that it was all therapeutic.

(11:15: I told her that I’d soon be moving her into the bedroom. She didn’t react, as I’d feared she would, merely asking that I wait a bit. Not that her resistance would have done her any good.