“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(Jane was a bit more comfortable lying on her back today, though not a great deal. She ate little lunch — or supper, for that matter. But she did very well reading a couple of sessions. I said I was seriously considering giving up answering most of the fan mail, which has increased considerably lately. I’m having more and more trouble getting free time to concentrate upon getting Dreams done.

(We had the fan on and the windows wide open, although it wasn’t that hot outside. Jane’s Seth voice was stronger than usual. I might add that I had my “eye thing” throughout the session — those bright, jagged patterns moving across my field of vision. I described the effect, and added a drawing of it, in Jane’s Adventures in Consciousness, which was published in 1975. Today’s episode was the first in a long while, triggered I believe by stress, yet it didn’t last long. I didn’t take the time to use the pendulum to learn more.)

These suggestions, carried out, can be of more than considerable value. Tell Ruburt I will begin book dictation again at our next session, including the material on “better and better pills.”

(4:40 p.m. “Well, I’m glad I did that,” Jane said. “I’ll have a smoke while you read it to me.” She’d been interrupted right after the start of the session by a nurse bringing her vitamin C. Recording the session, I’d been quite amazed that a certain frightened portion of Jane’s self could exert such power over the rest of her mental and physical personality. Then I thought that perhaps I wasn’t amazed at all — that such things could be old stuff to therapists following various psychological disciplines. Once again, I ended up depressed.

(Just as I turned Jane on her side after the session, our neighbor Joe Bumbalo — who is very ill with cancer — called to invite me to share Chinese food and rhubarb pie with him and his wife, Margaret. I didn’t get to their house until after 7:30 because I’d been trying to help Jane get more comfortable. The food was delicious — until two pieces of chicken became lodged in my throat as I talked. Joe, lying on his couch, saw me trying to swallow, and called Margaret from the kitchen. I could still breathe, but with difficulty as my throat muscles kept trying to down the meat. I knew the situation could get very serious, but none of us panicked. Margaret, who had been a school nurse, used the Heimlich maneuver: she wrapped her strong arms around me from the back and squeezed. On the third squeeze, one portion of the chicken popped out of my mouth. I could talk hoarsely while feeling the second portion work its way down my esophagus. To the Bumbalos’ surprise, I finally was able to finish the meal. In a flash I’d been prepared for Margaret to use all force necessary, even to the point of one or more broken ribs, as I’d read could happen. And in bed that night, I wondered what would have happened to Jane had I not survived …)