“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(Jane was blue and uncomfortable this morning: “What a way to live,” she said. She’d thought of death, but didn’t want to do that to me. She’s looking for a sign of something better — some improvement that will lift her spirits. She felt better after I read her the session for March 19, and a great Sumari poem I used to close out the essays for Dreams with.

(Jane has even thought of having Debbie Harris take dictation at night, for another children’s book. Perhaps an autobiography also. The nurses and aides were raising hell this morning with their jokes and tricks. This usually helps cheer up Jane, though she gets nervous if they don’t keep their minds on what they’re doing when they lift her, say.

(Jane thinks her work, her poetry, is good. Before he did Seth Speaks, she was scared Seth couldn’t write a book. I’d had no such worries. Jane had felt that I was disappointed by the publication of her novel, The Rebellers — and correctly so. Both of us had been upset at the poor-looking, cheap, double-novel presentation.

(I kept trying to get at events — before and at the time the sessions began — and Jane’s symptoms. “I can’t even go home for an hour, without it costing two hundred dollars,” Jane said, and started to cry. “But I’m not ready to reconcile myself to the spot I’m in.” But she said she was often careful about what she said to me, so that she wasn’t always dumping on me when I came to the hospital. But if not me, I said, who could she talk to? Besides, I knew her moods and feelings much better, evidently, than she realized. She surprised me when she said, “I realized that I used to really dislike women.” There was more.)

(3:35 p.m. Jane had been interrupted once for nursing care. “I don’t know when, but sometime earlier — quite a bit earlier — I felt that that would be the subject today,” she said. “It’s more on your own questions, too.” Then she added, “I know he’s going into at least two other things in this chapter, too: that at certain times people mostly died in their 30’s, say, at one period, and usually lived to be very old in another. Also, that we’ve gotten out of touch with our own feelings about death, and are afraid of it. And he isn’t going to tell people not to get vaccinated otherwise they’d end up totally confused.”

(I told Jane that Seth’s material on childhood inoculations leading to later diseases might be vulnerable to statistics. Enough records certainly exist, that such connections might be found — if they were looked for diligently enough on a long-term basis. Such a discovery could lead to revisions in medical treatment, though I’m not sure what or how. I told Jane that the material made me speculate about Joe Bumbalo: He’s had many operations in his life, and has been shot full of drugs often. Could such repeated dosages have anything to do with his having cancer now? And even now Joe is taking powerful chemotherapy treatments. He’s losing his hair, I believe.

(Today Jane said she’d talked it over with Debbie Harris, and that the latter would be coming in three nights a week while Jane tries some spontaneous dictation. Fifty cents a page for finished copy, they agreed upon. Jane didn’t know about trying an emotional subject like an autobiography with someone else, though. I said let it work itself out.

(Jane and I were both impressed that we received checks totaling more than $900 from Maude Cardwell yesterday. I deposited them in the special account on my way to the hospital this noon.