“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(Yesterday, Saturday, had been a quiet day for Jane. She didn’t have a session. Debbie Harris had visited the night before. Jane ate well Saturday, and did but a few mild motions with her left foot, head and shoulders, and arms. “Actually, I don’t know what I’m doing.” She dozed or napped several times while I sat beside her, working with mail. She did poorly trying to read the last session.

(Early in the morning, Jane said, she had successfully managed to imagine herself back at 458 West Water Street, cleaning the place, washing the windows inside and out, very agilely climbing about—doing all of those things she’d loved to do, even to hosing down the house from the outside. But when she tried to picture herself doing the same things at 1730 Pinnacle, she didn’t do nearly as well. “Things got all muddy.” We thought this meant that 458 had many more pleasant connotations for her than did 1730 Pinnacle, our current residence.

(As she’d done yesterday, she ate well for lunch and supper. She did few motions. I worked on mail. At 2:28 she started reading the session for the day before yesterday—the one she had so much trouble with yesterday and did very well indeed. She read right along at a good and easy clip. “It wasn’t my best. but....” I said it certainly was close to it. It was much better than many people ever do. She finished the three pages in 10 minutes.

(We searched through If We Live Again, looking for a certain poem she’d written in January 1980, in connection with a session I’m typing for Dreams, but when we found the poem it was not the one we wanted. I answered some mail, and told Jane I’d have a session any time she wanted one. I was also curious to get some material from Seth on child prodigies, relevant to an atticle I’d just read at the house.

I may or may not return, but even the briefest of sessions helps regenerate the condition of healing, and quickens the healing process. I am, however, here, whether or not I am speaking, and approachable.

(4:04 PM. Jane had a cigarette. How interesting, I said, to have new improvements to look forward to! What would they be? Jane didn’t know either. She had me rub those certain spots on her neck that can send her head flying against the pillow—but when I found them there was hardly any reaction at all. Truly, her body wanted to do things in its own way. “Quit pushing it,” I finally said, about her neck. “The body doesn’t want to do that right now....”

(I haven’t done so, but I imagine that if I charted the days when her reading was markedly better, a definite pattern of improvements would show. The same sort of pattern of improvement must be operating with the body as a whole, then, I speculated.