“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(Jane described a dream she’d had last night, a very positive one, she thought, in which she’d looked at her face in a mirror for the first time in a long while. She saw her features with their old familiar contours, was pleased, and thought that with a little makeup she’d look fine. “I don’t have the guts to really look at my face yet,” she said now. “The last time I did—some months ago—I thought I looked terrible, with a double chin and my face bloated all out of shape....” I told her her face wasn’t bloated out of shape, that it looked much better, and that she appeared to have a double chin because of her position in bed. Perhaps she half believed me. It was approaching time for people to start coming in to check her vitals when she said she’d try for a short session. She was on her back, of course; her Seth voice was okay, good but not too loud.)

(“In a funny way, I’m better here, now, than I was when I was home,” Jane said. I told her that I expected her to be in good shape when I got her home again. Earlier today I’d suggested that she visualize herself sitting at her desk in the breezeway, writing—and without giving a thought as to how she got there. Let the healing energies of the body take care of all that stuff, I’d said.

(“I don’t know,” she added as she had a cigarette. “I just got the feeling that you and I are going to have some unexpected company—I don’t know whether here or at the house.” Just what we need, I thought. However, her statement prompted me to tell her that a few days before the insurance company had denied our claim for major medical benefits because they hadn’t received the hospital records, I’d waked up early one morning and lay there worrying about the possibility of a denial for perhaps an hour. I’d felt definitely uneasy, I told Jane—that is, I’d had no feelings that the matter of insurance was going smoothly. I believe I’d forgotten to tell her about this episode.