“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

a voice that says nothing at all

(She said all of this in that matter-of-fact voice she’d used the last time, that she’d told me similar things about her death, before Seth had said very recently that she wasn’t going to die now, no matter what she thought or said. I kept that in mind. Yet here she was, treating the possibility of death quite seriously again.

(The swelling on her shoulder was up again, but I noticed there was no drainage at all from her knee, nor was there for the rest of the afternoon. Jane said she’d been picturing herself at the old apartments on Water Street [we’d ended up with two], and around town as she used to go — all as though she were taking the last grand tour. When she was finished with all of this she asked me what I thought. I said I didn’t have anything to say. I no longer carry on like I used to, or get mad, and so forth. I could hardly make her do something she didn’t want to do, but I didn’t say that either. If she wanted to die that was it. The hell with it, I thought. I decided — again — that I was through worrying about whether she’d live or die, or whether she was starving herself to death, or whatever.

(I knew my own half-sarcastic remarks about her not letting the body go its own healing way obviously were in response to her earlier talk about dying. I don’t think I overdid what I said — though of course anything like that bothers Jane, even when its true. Then most of all, I suppose — for I express my feelings based upon my interpretation of what I see — I ended up thinking my remarks were the right way to go, for later she told me that I’d expressed some intuitive truths. Who knows — maybe something can be salvaged after all.

(Jane actually smiled as I was getting ready to leave after 7:30. “Maybe I’ll get to go home after all?” she asked. “That’s the idea,” I said. I’d mentioned that thought a few days ago.)