“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(I’d raked leaves this morning—it’s been a beautiful day—while waiting for family to show up. Just before going outside I’d told Jane a capsule of my current thinking—that we were at the end of the line that she was going to end up hospitalized again, or in an institution where she could receive constant care. I could see no way out. I’d mentioned while she was still in bed this morning that I was going to call Dr. Kardon tomorrow morning, and tell her I wanted Jane back in the hospital. “What are you trying to do?” my wife cried out, “shock me into getting better?”

(I got a horrified reaction from Jane in the bedroom this morning when I’d mentioned the hospital to her, and that I was reaching a turning point in my struggles to care for her myself. Seth had recently said the hospital experience had been a traumatic one for Jane—so why was she doing again the very things that could lead to a return to that situation? Once again, a mindless resistance seemed to be the answer, at least from my standpoint. “Once again,” I said, “whatever it is, I know you’ll accept it, since it’s the reality you’re creating. And once again, I’m the one who’s pushing you to use your own abilities to save yourself, meaning at least trying to learn what’s going on through the sessions, for example. You should be telling me what to do—not the other way around.... But it’s impossible for one person to save another if they don’t want it that way.”

(“Well. I guess that’s the way it’s going to end, then,” I said, meaning that the sessions would just peter out or dwindle away in generalizations. I’d been aware of this possibility for some time, and wasn’t surprised that the time had come. Not a word from Seth about why she’s been so miserable for the past five days, or why her decubiti are worse, or my suggestion that she go back into the hospital, or the role the sinful self plays in all of this. The list is endless. Then Seth returned as I finished this note.

(5:43 PM. And that was it. We need a lot more. I probably won’t call Dr. Kardon or the hospital tomorrow, but will simply wait for nature to take its course, since except for the movement in the knees—which hasn’t increased—it’s been all bad, so the general outcome for the future is all but inevitable. I’d told Jane earlier, referring to it several times from different angles, that I felt the sessions were closing themselves down, for good. I may even make that decision myself. I’ve also thought of not finishing Dreams, but going back to painting for the rest of my life—another option. I know that sooner or later I’ll be doing this no matter what the outcome of our present situation is, whenever Dreams is finished, I suspect at this time.