“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(The 220th session, containing Seth’s advice, was held while the car was in the garage the first time. After the session I made a conscious effort to improve my attitude about the car. By then I had the idea that psychological attitudes could affect the car, and had recalled that once before Seth had dealt with the car and our attitudes while on our way to a Maine vacation in August 1964. See the 80-81st sessions. According to Seth, Jane and I had succeeded in altering considerably the car’s oil consumption; and as evidence we had before us the fact that the car had used much less oil on the trip than we had calculated. See Volume 2.)

Your father would like to kick at old cars, for he felt that they defied him since they worked improperly. More than this however, both of your parents still feel that a car is a symbol of social status, and you grew up with this. When your cars were new you felt at one with them. But an old car brings back the old struggles between your parents, and it is precisely here that subconsciously you and Ruburt do not agree. He gladly settles on an old car—anything that moves will do. But to you the old car has not meant freedom, but imperfection.

It does not matter whether the car is old or new, as long as he has one, and it is for this reason that he fights any of your suggestions that you do without one. The car is also to him a complementary image of his father, who was always on the move, more so than most men, while his mother could not move at all. A lack of a car also makes him fear a return to poverty, since in his neighborhood any car at all was a sign of luxury.

(A week or so ago I forgot to buy gasoline, and this led to a situation that could have been dangerous. When Jane and I were on our way to the home of the Gallaghers, who live on top of a steep and long hill outside Elmira, the car lost power, then stalled out on the hill. It was after dark, the road was slippery with snow; I had to back down the hill while Jane lighted the way with a flashlight, until I found a driveway. I did not realize I had run low on gas at the time, for the car started as we coasted down hill. We arrived home safely but the car would not start up again.

[...] I dreamed that I bought a new red, sporty-looking sedan car at a dealer’s. He wasn’t a very nice or pleasant man, younger than me, who swore a lot. [...] After picking out the car I wanted at the agency, I left to get the money. When I returned I saw that a family of five people — parents and three young children — were in the car, and ready to drive away. The obnoxious dealer told me that he’d sold the car to the family, and had set aside an identical green car for me.

(I got really mad at him, and told him off in no uncertain terms, threatening, I believe, legal action if I didn’t get that car back that he’d promised me. [...] I got in my red car. [...]

[...] The car stands for my travels through the psyche, and the family represented conventional America and its everyday beliefs, which I rejected. By demanding the red car that I wanted, I insisted that I go my own way, and in my own way. [...]

[...] They were worried about Art Kendall who was in no shape to drive, so they followed Kendall’s car out of Watkins Glen. Kendall leaves main road and takes a country road that parallels Route 14 from Watkins Glen to Horseheads—he guns car. Bill is afraid to drive too fast—as road is full of curves, so Kendall’s car speeds out of sight. [...] They find Kendall’s car finally in a ditch. [...] Bill said that he probably would have been involved if he continued speeding after Kendall’s car to catch him. [...]

[...] While two blocks away, I thought I could see a blue and white car parked outside it. Jane said it was our car, though I was sure she could not see it, actually, well enough to know for sure. But it was our car, ready for us. Jane told me then that all through the meal, she had concentrated as hard as she could on the fact that the car would be fixed and waiting for us. [...]

(Walking down to the garage at the appointed time, I saw the car still up on the lift. [...] His boss was busy and asked me to stop back later, after he’d had a chance to look at the car. Of course I realized how Jane would feel if we could not leave on vacation in the morning should the car not be ready. [...]

(Just before the session was due, I mentioned two things I hoped Seth would discuss: his dates for Miss Callahan, and the car experiment on my part, described on page 302. [Our car is an ancient, rusted-out Ford station wagon.]

[...] When Ruburt heard from you that the servicemen seemed not to know what was the matter with the car, he instantly remembered what I had said about expectation. Consciously he decided to expect that the car would be fixed, despite your truly gloomy semipredictions.

[...] While we were in a local bar, two youths stole the car, which was parked nearby, and went for a joyride. I went outside to get the car to take Jane home, and found it gone. [...] I also found a young man in the bar who knew the two who had taken the car, but he was afraid to tell me who they were. Eventually the police found the car, abandoned some distance away, but unharmed. [...]

(4:24.) Now: The dream of the car represents beliefs that you had when you had the car. [...] At the end, the car or the vehicle is (underlined) returned to you, and the dream shows that you understand, now, the process that the dream outlined.

(4.28 p.m. I told Jane that Seth’s analysis of the car dream was excellent. [...]

[...] I often do this on my way out, for I can see my car out there where I usually park. In my dream I looked out and down at the car, and saw three pieces of paper lying on the asphalt next to the left front wheel of the car. [...]

(I should add that my dream of seeing the money so far away—out by the car—also meant things. [...] The car also represents transportation, I thought, meaning that the money still has to get to us. [...]

[...] The car represents the idea of distance also, since the checks do not originate in this city. [...]

(“Connection with an old car.” [...] Tom has an old sports car, and not long after I had bought the canvas, he described the car to Jane on one of her visits there, detailing his troubles with it, etc.

[...] Possibly another reference to Tom’s story about his car. Cars and Tom are rather closely connected. Since his first tale to Jane we have heard subsequent stories about his car, the most recent being how he stripped several gears.

Connection with an old car. [...]

[...] Nor is Tom’s car as old as 1932 for instance.

(Jane now recalled that the car’s right door was open. Wherever the car was, it was off the road and down a bank, with grass and brush or bushes. [...]

[...] When I said that—I don’t see anything—but I got the feeling of a car accident... [...]

[...] Whoever was on the other side of the car is gone.” [...]

(“I’m still in the car,” she said, “and it sits on the bank...” [...]

(Last Sunday, on a trip to see my parents, the car ran at 60 MPH during a brief experiment; it did so smoothly and effortlessly, and had plenty of power left. Whereas during the summer it required a distinct effort to keep it going at even 34 MPH, now I have to be careful to not use too much pressure on the accelerator, for the car will now leap ahead almost without warning.)

(I wanted more data re the car’s trouble and cure, but wasn’t sure it was a good idea to ask Jane more specific questions at this time. [...] After the session I asked Jane to keep in mind that the car could be discussed again.)

You stopped worrying about your car, and focusing upon it and upon its age and condition. [...]

[...] Remarkable is not too strong a word for the car’s improvement, literally overnight, in operation two weekends ago. [...]

(Watching the mechanic struggle with the car, I felt sure he was not familiar enough with the work to know what he was doing. [...] This was at a time when Seth was beginning to fill us in on the power of expectation; Jane insisted that the car would be ready when we went back for it. We ate in a diner, and Jane concentrated on the car being ready. [...]

[...] As noted in the car data on pages 8 and 9, I had an appointment to pick up the car at the service station at 5 PM Friday, August 14,1964, the same day I bought membership in AAA. The station was located across the street from the AAA office, and the car was at the station while I was in the AAA office.

[...] I dropped her off there, then left the car at the station in question for an oil filter change and a general checkup. [...] I was due to return to the station for the car at 5 PM that same day. [...]

(When I walked back downtown to the station at 5 PM to pick up the car, I was dismayed to be told that the mechanic there was having much trouble replacing the oil filter cap, that it persisted in leaking no matter how much force he used trying to tighten it. I was afraid the threads on the cap would be stripped; if the part in question had to be replaced, it meant dismantling the steering gear on our particular make of car, and thus a delay starting our vacation until next week.

[...] When I did turn her, I massaged her with Oil of Olay, then went out to run up the car. It was very cold once more, but the car started okay. [...]

[...] I warmed up the car first, as I’d done yesterday. [...]

[...] She had a cigarette while I talked of going out to the parking lot to run up the car. [...]

(Then I saw that the car sat on a steep grassy bank, beside a river I believe, and that another old jalopy had somehow been moved in front of our car so that we couldn’t move it. [...] Jane and I tried to walk along a path toward the car. [...]

(While giving the data involving the car at the beginning of the test, Jane said she had a feeling of unsureness at to the location of the car. [...]

[...] In a big old garage with Jane, I was ready to drive the car away, but then seemed to look up at it on a hoist. [...] I realized the car hadn’t been used in a long time.

[...] (Pause.) A car stops, and he gets out of it.

[...] Eyes felt softer, etc., Then we went to take Billy to the vet’s; on the way my eyes did funny things; odd sensations involving balance I think—both of these in the car; I asked for help from “divine parent of my being,” and repeated the suggestions Seth gave me; trying not to be worried. [...] Later, had trouble coming from car to house; and I think my right leg had lengthened, so that it was longer than the left one (the other day it was the other way around). [...]

The car lost, was lost—no coincidence any more than your behavior during the flood. [...] It is important that a new car be purchased as soon as possible. [...]

[...] You lit cigarettes for him, particularly when you were in public, but you did not open the car door unless he asked you, or reminded you when that hurt or humiliated him.

[...] Don’t you see that car,” when he simply could not turn that quickly, and was terrified. [...]

His idea was to chart his course, hope he could reach the other side of the street, and that the cars could see him.

A red car. I do not know if this is a present car, or a car the man owned as a boy—a toy car. But a red car is connected here. [...]

(“A connection with another car, not your own.” [...] Jane said Seth gave this bit of test data because we ourselves had had trouble making a nearby steep hill in our own car, also this month. Seth dealt with our own car troubles in the 222nd session. [...]

[...] A connection with another car, not your own. [...]

[...] We thought there could be association here also in the manner of the previous data about a connection with another car, not our own. [...]

[...] We thought there might be a connection here in that our car ran out of gas on the road to the Gallaghers; even so, this data would be too far removed from the test object.

[...] They had picked me up in their car and kept driving beyond where I wanted to get off. [...] They slowed the car down, laughingly, to twenty-five or so (in this inner dream) and I jumped out, also laughing and unharmed. [...]

(Jane’s turn onto her back when I reached 330 at 12:10 [after taking the car to Bob’s Car Wash to get it waxed] went very easily. [...]

[...] She lay watching TV while I walked over to pick up the car—which looked fabulous. [...]

[...] The car was ready. [...] I turned Jane on her left side before I left, shortly after 5:00, but I was back with the car within 15 minutes. [...]

(I got there at 1:10 after leaving the car at Acuto’s Pontiac to get the gearshift fixed. [...]

[...] I’d thought of going over some of the earlier material with Jane today, but what with my having to go after the car and so forth, events seemed too crowded together. [...]

(As noted in the earlier part of the session not included here I had the sudden feeling as I sat in the car waiting for Jane. We were going to the tax office this evening before the session, and I had gone ahead to get the car out of the garage, etc.)