“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(This is Day 16 of Jane’s new campaign.

(She didn’t call last night. A nurse called for her this morning, though — seems Jane was out of cigarette lighters, and wanted me to bring some to 330. We spoke briefly.

(Jane went to hydro this morning, and did okay. She still has the new motion in her arms and hands. She also said there’s a new kind of motion, “like a ball bearing,” in her left foot at the ankle, even though it may not look like a different movement. She’s still on the Bactrim. Eyes still quite red. She tried to read yesterday’s session, but couldn’t do it. I read it to her at 2:45, after she’d finished a good lunch.

(3:00. After I’d finished the session, especially the last portion and my notes about my own reactions, which upset Jane, she told me that yesterday she’d actually been very blue the last hour I was there. She’d also been very afraid that the coughing up of mucous meant she was getting pneumonia — something she hadn’t told me. She’d picked up the suggestion from something a nurse had said that morning. I said it wasn’t what others said so much, as her reaction to what they said. I’d hoped we were past that stage. I said I’d expressed myself plainly in the session yesterday so she’d know how I felt.

(Jane didn’t comment today on my reference to any possible reincarnational connections with her symptoms. And the pneumonia idea was, I said, another example of an extreme. Yet Jane said that after I’d left last night her blueness had lifted almost magically, and she’d felt good and slept well. I said that maybe by now she’d learned how to cut the blue periods shorter — a sign that we were learning something after all.

(“I just had an ugly thought,” I said. “That this concentration upon trying to avoid negative suggestions makes you even more sensitive to them.” Jane said she’d had the same thought at times.

(3:08. Jane had a smoke while I read her the session for February 1, after she’d put on lipstick and looked in the mirror. Then I read her several other good and later sessions. Next, I described my vivid dream of last night: Jane and I were still driving our old yellow Cadillac convertible. She was walking normally. While we were in a local bar, two youths stole the car, which was parked nearby, and went for a joyride. I went outside to get the car to take Jane home, and found it gone. I called the police. I also found a young man in the bar who knew the two who had taken the car, but he was afraid to tell me who they were. Eventually the police found the car, abandoned some distance away, but unharmed. I was very angry about the whole thing and vowed to find out who had taken it. I told Jane the dream almost sounded like an exercise in exploring a probable reality.

(3:47. Temperature 99.1. Jane said that was the highest it’s been since it started going down in recent days. She was getting a bit chilly. I suggested she have a session if she was going to, then I could have staff call a maintenance man about the heat. Jane was still coughing and blowing at times. I looked at mail but didn’t accomplish anything.)

(Leanne came in with a new bag of Bactrim. We asked her to call maintenance about heat. I read to Jane what she’d given so far.

(4:18. Jane had a cigarette while I read her the account of my dream that I’d just written for my daily notes, since she didn’t remember the dream all that well.

(“It’s me,” Jane said.

(4.28 p.m. I told Jane that Seth’s analysis of the car dream was excellent. From its position atop the pole at the head of Jane’s bed, the Bactrim still drips into the plastic tube, on its way into Jane’s right arm. I felt chilly, but she didn’t want anything over her yet. When I took my nap, she said a maintenance man came in and adjusted the thermostat, saying it would give us some heat, but it did no good. The problem still wasn’t solved as I read the session to Jane after supper, nor was it solved by the time I left at 7:10.

(Jane can’t know it yet, but in the mail tonight was another letter from Maude Cardwell, containing some $620 in checks for her hospital fund. I don’t equate this figure with my dream. I think, and as Seth agreed, that the dream means far more than sums of money received alone. It’s a very encouraging dream, and I’m very pleased to have had it. Not that the checks aren’t welcome! Sleep well, Jane. I love you.)