“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(I was disappointed that Jane ate so little for lunch today. I had started feeling tired when I got to 330, so decided not to press any points. Maybe, I thought, we needed time to recover from the emotions of the last few days especially. I also felt that Jane’s destiny was in her own hands, and that nothing anyone else was going to do would change that. So it is with each of us. Her recovery was up to her, then, although I still puzzled why she carried her situation to such extremes when she said she didn’t want to die.

(In no time at all Jane’s Seth voice had moved closer and closer to tears.)

(“Well,” I said several times, wherever she is now, I sure hope your mother understands what she did to you. I groped for words to express my anger, for watching my wife cry certainly aroused strong feelings within me. I felt like directing some very nasty barbs at Marie — especially when I remembered those old photos of Jane that I’d looked at a couple of days ago. How could a three-year-old child, standing in the snow on Middle Avenue in Saratoga Springs, be responsible for hurting anything — or anybody?

(I tried to reassure her several times. “You’ve never hurt anybody, sweetheart —”

(Wouldn’t you know it — at a time like this Carla came in to do Jane’s vitals. As long as she was there, I asked Carla to get someone to clean out Jane’s ears, for she’d been having difficulty hearing again lately.

(3:47. Crying somewhat again, Jane resumed the session. I had to ask her to repeat some words. She lay back with her eyes closed most of the time.)