“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(I worked on Dreams this morning. The day was cold — about 22 — when I left for 330 at 12:30. I’d just turned Jane when the phone rang. It was someone called Danny Olson, from a small town in Missouri. He’d sent some home-canned jars of fruits and vegetables at Christmas time; for the past year he’d also written a string of long letters signed “me,” meaning I couldn’t answer him to say thanks for the stuff. He’d done the same thing the Christmas before last, also.

(I should add that when I realized what the check for the $1,000 meant, I had strange initial feelings of guilt and of rebellion, of being now in a pretty vulnerable position in some strange way, even though the money would help with hospital charges. I also thought that although Helen Park said in her letter that there were no strings attached to the donation, still there must be attachments in some form — that it was natural that there would be. The only way out of that situation that I thought of at the moment was that the giving of the gift, and the personal contact it meant, constituted the attachment. I now think there will be a variety of strings, in some form or another, and I don’t mean to be cynical in making this observation.