“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(That little exchange pretty much sums up our attitudes these days, and Jane’s worsening physical condition. She ate some lunch yesterday, but little supper. Today she ate less lunch. I reminded her that I had to go to the dentist at 4:15. This at once compressed her ideas of the time in which to do anything, although I didn’t feel any pressure. She asked me about the time quite often.

(After a meager lunch she said that last night she got a flash, like an “ear pop,” that she wasn’t going to die at this time. It was very brief but very clear. I’d known she had something to tell me after lunch, but hadn’t expected this. I had absolutely no reaction to the news at all — and at once remembered my total lack of reaction when our lawyer had told me that the insurance business was settled. I was evidently so numb from repeated doses of fear and concern and negativity and Jane’s worsening situation daily, that I couldn’t react. I didn’t believe or disbelieve it. I was afraid to hope, perhaps.

(Anyhow, Jane seemed to feel a bit better about it, so I went along when she even talked about a session this afternoon. I had her help me fill out the menu, for I’d decided it was useless for me to continue putting items on it that she never touched.

(2:59. “Oh God,” Jane said, using an expression that’s become one of her favorites. “Give me a puff. As soon as I said I’d do it — the session — I got scared. It shows how you’ve got to get those feelings out. I wish I could yell and scream, but I can’t …” I read her the session. “Oh, my arms,” she said. I’d felt them, and she was holding them as rigid as bent metal rods.

(When she finally asked me what I thought of the session, I had trouble expressing any hope, versus those negative feelings I’ve been aware of for so long now. I did say things like, “This morning while working on Chapter 9 for Dreams I had to reread some sessions from back in 1981 — and they’re perfect. They go into exact detail as to what was wrong, and they fit today like a glove. Only look where we are now — a lot worse off.” What had happened to the four years?

(I did finally express some anger as the time approached for me to leave. I accused Jane of not caring about the emotional storms I was going through. This came about when I tried to make her arms comfortable, and found her holding herself as rigid as could be — after all she’s supposed to know and have learned. It got to me. I felt blown away by such behavior.

(“Believe me,” I said, “I’ve had the thought. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t …”

(I should add that I didn’t mean I wished she’d die so that I’d be free. I want her to live — with me, at home, working and singing. I thought of this in the dentist’s chair. I forgot to tell her when I got back at supper time, but will tomorrow. Jane called just as I was typing this session.)