“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(This morning I received a very upsetting phone call from Jeff Karder. He too is upset that Jane is obviously much more uncomfortable these days than she used to be — than two months ago, say. He doesn’t want her to suffer. Jeff doesn’t suggest antibiotics at this time, but told me that the ulcers on Jane’s right knee and left hand won’t heal themselves, and that the new swelling on the top of her right shoulder may turn into another such area. [It didn’t.] Jane has a traveling infection, he believes, and he hopes it doesn’t get into her bloodstream. I’ve suspected the same thing. Jeff said an operation would be needed on the knee to correct the condition.

(In interpreting those passages, I saw that Jane would have died, given her own choice, a couple of years ago, but her plan was interfered with by me and the hospital personnel. Although she obviously played a vital part in keeping herself alive, I believe that that action came after her own natural, chosen time of death had been subverted. She changed her mind, in other words. Otherwise, nothing would have kept her alive, no treatment of any sort.

(I took Mass Events to 330 with me. Jane was a bit better, yet still uncomfortable. She could keep some medications down, but was very careful about food. I’d forgotten to make her a promised corned-beef sandwich, and she’d been counting on that for supper. Georgia had told her Jeff had called me, and her version of the call was pessimistic indeed. Jane knew of Jeff’s concerns.

(Jeff suggested that we do nothing at the moment, while he monitors Jane’s condition. Her temperature has varied, but has generally been okay. Yesterday afternoon it had been 100, but after supper it was down to 98.7. This morning it was a bit lower. I told her the swelling on her right shoulder looked a bit reduced. But her cheeks are swollen and somewhat blotchy, which Jeff had noticed this morning. Later in the afternoon the cheeks and shoulder both looked a bit better, and Jane acted better.

(Yesterday I’d told Jane that I knew her “body was up to something.” But what? I said that I hoped it wasn’t another case of her improving while getting worse — which I used to rant about in years past. We had a long talk. I said I wanted information on whether she wanted to live or die — or whether she was trying to die her own natural death, in line with that excellent information in Mass Events. I wanted to know what her sinful self thought about what it was doing to her body, if it cared, if it even understood that it’s protective actions threatened its own existence. Or was her death the ultimate goal of the sinful self? I said the situation must be a common one. I felt I was onto something here, but wasn’t quite sure what — something close to the more basic human condition that is little understood. I told Jane it would be a joke if those portions of the self we’re blaming for her condition, really are the truest, most simple and honest portions after all, and that their roles in bringing about her natural death were being subverted by our conscious-mind meddling and interference. Just where is the “truth”? I asked.

(We also discussed Jane’s fears that she’d done all she could in this life, and thus was ready to bow out of physical existence. I told her that if she wanted to leave I couldn’t, and wouldn’t try to hold her back, and that I’d never have her hooked up to survival equipment. I wouldn’t want that done to me, either. And all the time we talked I couldn’t help but just miss, just fail to understand exactly why she was doing what she was doing. Nor have I forgotten Seth’s statement a few months ago that basically neither of us have done anything wrong.

(But so fearful and reluctant are we to face or to grasp ideas about death that run counter to what we’ve been taught, that we’ll literally do almost anything to ourselves in order to prevent nature’s plan from working in its own natural and creative way. How can we really go against what’s been drummed into us since the day we were born?

The condition itself is an unfortunate aspect of the hospital environment, but you leapt to the conclusion that the very worst was involved. Ruburt did fall prey, in your terms, (underlined twice), to a flu-like condition — but the additional fear added immeasurably, prolonging the situation.