“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(“Come out at a quarter to eight,” Jane told me at 7:15, “and we’ll have a session.” She’d mentioned a session earlier in the day, and so had I. At the same time she’d slept in her chair most of the day, and was doing so again at the card table, when I finally got out there at about 7:55. She was partially disoriented when I called her: “I thought I’d already had it,” she exclaimed. “Also, my hands seemed to be a couple of inches away from where they really are....and my feet....”

(I haven’t made any effort toward dismissing a move to Sayre, myself. Jane hasn’t mentioned it lately. I will try to remain open about it, and trust that the means for it will come through Framework 2.... I explained that I’d become quite interested in the Fred Conyers thing because I’d been reading a couple of pages a day of one of the manuscripts he’d left us: The Rule Book of Love: A Seth Book. I thought the title intriguing. I also thought portions of the manuscript itself were intriguing, quite acute, mixed up with Fred’s obsessions and compulsions, his personal life and family, his far-out ideas, his attempts and frustrations as he tried to use the manuscript as a vehicle toward understanding himself as he attempted to uncover the secrets of his personality: He thought them locked away from his understanding by the very device he had chosen of speaking for Seth. Inaccessible to him consciously. I’ve also learned that Fred has a wife, Heidi, and at least one daughter, and that he did—does —live in Denver, Colorado.

(As I told Jane today, a study of the affair would be fascinating in many ways, particularly as it would have to involve Fred’s behavior and beliefs as associated with the Seth material. I have yet to even unwrap his other manuscript, The Christ Book. Fred has it wrapped in brown paper and so much yellow string that at first I thought he’d used a rope like a clothesline as a binder.

(“When I get comfortable in my chair, then I start drifting,” Jane said as I worked on these notes. “I go to sleep....” And she did it again. She woke up confused: “Didn’t I have a cigarette going? I thought I did....” She’d gone through the same reaction re smoking earlier in the evening. Finally I did read the session to her. “I’m sitting here feeling funny in the funniest fashion,” she said, “without being able to explain what I mean.” We had snacks of toast and milk and headed for bed shortly after 10 PM.

(I was amused during the visit to learn that “two little old ladies, one who’s interested in your stuff and one who’s a skeptic,” waited in the car in the driveway while Michaellen and I talked under the porch light. She sat in one of the porch chairs while I stood up so I could move about and keep warm. Every so often whoever was driving the car would start it up so the heater would go on. But in the dark night I could see only the hood of the little car, and never the two old ladies. The car could have been sitting there running itself as far as any other signs of life were concerned. We talked so long the two ladies must have become quite impatient waiting.... Michaellen and I embraced and kissed as she said goodbye, and I wondered what her companions thought of such behavior between strangers, right out there under the light.