“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(At first I couldn’t believe my eyes. [...]

[...] The reason was simple: a late snowstorm of very deep and heavy wet snow the night before, and continuing on into the next day, had split the Chinese elms in the back yard and caused the one nearest the garage to fall across the driveway, so I couldn’t get the car out of the garage. [...]

[...] At the same time, Jane while in trance lifted her right arm and swung it vigorously from side to side several times—something she couldn’t have done a week ago.)

(Because her teeth were bothering her so, Jane couldn’t eat what we’d ordered for lunch—turkey tetrazzini—so she substituted dry cereal. [...]

[...] Yet she couldn’t describe the images she had seen.

[...] Staff people had tried putting it back in, but couldn’t get it to drain. [...]

[...] The idea of uprooting our entire lives at this time seems far out—especially, I told her, when she couldn’t even go with me to look at houses. [...]

(After the session, Jane could almost come up with something about her feelings of abandonment, yet couldn’t quite do so. [...]

[...] But without me Seth couldn’t speak, and without your inner selves you wouldn’t have the knowledge.

[...] The class dream I couldn’t remember was precisely just what you [Jane] were saying right now, and I did mention something this evening before class started that I just remembered. [...]

(Barbara insisted that she wanted help, but as in other cases that Jane and I have encountered, her focus upon her distress was so intense that we couldn’t breach it; certainly not in the little time available. [...] Barbara just couldn’t grasp that she was creating her own reality.

[...] My next question, about the back, then threw her off, seeming to come instantly after the previous question, and she couldn’t make contact with Seth’s entity. [...]

(The result here, Jane said, was that she wanted to end the session, but couldn’t get her own voice back, and “nobody helped her out.” [...]

[...] Try as I would, I couldn’t make his image any clearer or closer, or induce it to change in any other manner. [...] Like an echo in the background lingered a woman, but I couldn’t get anything about her.

[...] I don’t mind noting that I wish she had.² She might have been able to offer insights about it that I couldn’t come up with, especially concerning the seemingly endless abilities of the psyche — call it personalized energy, consciousness, or what-have-you — to travel through its own space and time.

[...] After lunch Jane tried to read Saul’s letter, but couldn’t manage it. [...]

[...] I even think that when Seth told Jane a few weeks ago that her broken right leg could straighten itself out, this generated more fears right there — that it couldn’t do so, and so forth. [...]

“But if you wrote down each such instance and kept track, you might find that there were too many to assign to coincidence, or discover that coincidence couldn’t apply to some at all,” I said. [...]

([Florence:] “I had the feeling I should have done that, but I couldn’t.”)

[...] 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. [...]

[...] He could see and hear me as Seth and I couldn’t. Now during break I questioned him again. I hated to have to depend on someone else to tell me what was going on, but I had learned one thing: I couldn’t be Jane and Seth at once. [...]

[...] I felt that we couldn’t afford to miss sessions these days. [...]

[...] I think, I added, that it was an error to blame fear of the spontaneous self going too far if given free reign—I didn’t think nature would arrange things that way, for the organism couldn’t survive for long that way. [...]

[...] I remembered and described three of them, thought there was a fourth, but couldn’t remember it. [...]

All of that came to mind this morning; not that it couldn’t have just been “coincidence” that later in the day I hear from Ed — after making three predictions that seemed to apply to him. [...]