“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

DELETED SESSION

(At 4:30 PM Jane told me to get the notebook. Finally. “Well, it’s five days since we sat for the last session, on,” I said, “and we’ve accomplished nothing.”

(I think my wife is in bad shape. I note this aside from whatever changes may be taking place in her, as Seth has repeatedly maintained recently. Jane has slept just about all of each day, sitting in her chair, since the last failed session. Last night she was in agony in bed—all night. Our sleep has been very irregular. “Bob. I’m so scared,” she said to me at 6:30 this morning when I went in to get her up. I was filled with impotent rage at the turn events have taken for us, but said little. Her bedsores are worse daily. She’s refused naps in the afternoons, to give them a little rest. Hallucination has also been involved during the daylight hours—or at least disorientation.

(As usual, I said a lot of things in the short time we talked before company arrived. That she was again telling me that she was getting better when I could see that she was getting worse. Even Seth did this. The same old story, I remarked. I added that I no longer believed the later sessions, in which Seth had talked about her getting better by the holidays this year, or her having turned a corner in probabilities. How could any of that be true? I had a million questions, and felt almost totally frustrated trying to get answers. Why, Jane, why? Again and again, I thought of resistance, of the sinful self putting up roadblocks, no matter what the consequences. And it seemed to me that certain parts of her personality were quite ready to continue such behavior until death—the final end, the dissolution in which host and ailments disappeared together, and all conflict was resolved. Was this to be the “redemption” Seth had talked about a couple of years ago, and that I’d tried to deal with in the intro for Dreams? I thought it likely. I told Jane I wouldn’t be surprised to walk into the bedroom some day and discover that she had simply died during the night, so resolving her challenges. An understandable-enough resolution, I said, and one I couldn’t argue with basically, since such a course could logically be the one chosen by some personalities—but it was also one that I didn’t choose at this time.

(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.”

(We waited several minutes. Jane put on her glasses, which I took to mean that the session was over. “Did you get any ideas?” she asked.

(Her statement represented an important point, one that I wasn’t too sharp in appreciating at the moment, so poor was my own outlook. I would like to deviate from the session notes here, and comment that sometimes typing this material several days after it’s been given isn’t easy: One’s ideas change, to such a degree even that opinions and feelings of even a few days ago can seem mightily out of place. When I wrote the notes for this session, I probably felt as badly as I ever have, whereas when I now find myself typing this material [on November 9] I am aware of a most heartening change for the better.

(I would like to record the original notes I wrote for the session, then, but at the same time I recommended to Jane that she not read them. I now think it would do her little good to do so. Seth did come through again, briefly, and I suggest that Jane skip down to his material. In the meantime, I’ll continue the original notes.

(“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.

(5:37 PM.) One small note: these sessions also carry overlays of meanings doubled in upon themselves that are connected with the words but are not part of the words, but carried by the sounds. And so is some information this evening.

(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.