“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] The affair began however when you first realized that your father would be no longer operative. [...]

[...] You are also afraid however, to some extent and under certain conditions, of working, even painting, entirely at home because your father worked at home and did not do well.

The episode also has some connections, again with your father, in that you feel sometimes, and subconsciously, that you will be old and trembly and still at the job. [...]

[...] She described again all those visits from Father Trenton. [...] She described how Father Trenton sat with his back to Marie when he was mad at the mother, and how Father Rakin made advances to her. [...] The first time they met, Jane said Father Rakin said to her when she was but 13: “You’re just too forward.” [...]

[...] Jane began by talking about how her mother, Marie, told her at puberty that she had bad blood in her from her father [Delmer], that he had syphilis. [...]

[...] Jane remembered no reaction from her mother when her poetry came into conflict with the church, or when Father Rakin burned her books. [...]

You are not helping your father, for the symptoms will not revert to him. [...] You said in effect, “I am my father’s son, down to some of his defects.”

[...] The words—“Father, I refuse to accept your hay fever for myself; though I once took it, I now throw it free from us both”—these words will help.

Your father used hay fever as a symptom of helplessness, and as a demand for the attention that he did not get, even then, from your mother. [...]

[...] Your mother basically did not share (smile) your father’s love of the out-of-doors, and you played both ends against the middle. [...]

Dream 1—I was looking at some weird contraption, maybe mechanical, that my father had made, to leave me some money after his death; money was supposed to come out of it. A nice old man, sort of a kindly bum, came by and told me father had made it two hours before his death so that I’d have some inheritance; and the old man might have had a key that worked it; I’m not sure; but there was something about a key.... [...]

[...] You liked working with the land, but because of conflicts with your father you turned against, for example, gardening.

[...] You remember how strict your father was however, and methodical, in gardening. [...]

[...] Subconsciously you are also bitter because you could have nearly purchased a place of your own with the money that you used to help your father purchase your family home.

There is also in your subconscious the feeling of a land or farm in connection with the one owned by your father’s family.

The father of the child however was a sister of yours in that life. [...] The sister was older than yourself, and you felt, favored over you by your father.

[...] You felt that she had taken your mother’s place in the affections of your father, and she lorded her position over you. [...]

You used to wonder what there was about her that so captivated your father, since he had an obvious preference for her, and you would watch her secretly, trying to find the answer. [...]

[...] Your father simply preferred her because she did remind him of his wife. [...]

We will try to separate the father from the son here. [...] This would seem to be the father. [...] The characteristics given however do apply to the man who is ill, whether it is the father or son.

(The tall bony man mentioned could refer possibly to Dan Searle whose father is past president of the company, Dan is tall, bony and has sandy hair. [...]

([John:] “The man in loose clothes—can you tell me is this the son, president of the company or his father, the chairman of the board. [...]

[...] The Father Ryan influence—and he also had back trouble. Father Doren was seen as a spontaneous but evil man. Father Ryan was seen as rigid and uncompromising, but good. Father Ryan gave Ruburt his first typewriter, and desk, and bed. [...]

[...] This has something to do with the mother’s talking to the child about the father. [...] The father had money and was evil. [...]

I was enough like his Father Traynor to be safe, and without me his psychic abilities would not have matured at all. [...]

(Father Ryan lived there. [...] However she never told Father Ryan of the dreams—nor anyone else except her mother. Jane said it is interesting to remember that from the classroom in which she had many long talks with Father Ryan, she could look across the street at the very section of the playground which served as the setting for her recurring dream.

[...] There is a connection between the priest, Father Ryan, and Jane’s playground dreams, and the playground itself in Saratoga Springs. [...]

[...] Writing of Father Ryan now reminds us that he died of leukemia—also a blood disorder as anemia is. [...]

[...] Father Ryan’s mourning photo contained printed type on the back. [...]

[...] Your brother Dick was invisible in one episode, and he is psychically very aware of your father’s condition. He fears, your father, far more than your brother or you, and he will be free, or feel free, of many issues with your father’s death.

[...] In this you do identify to some degree with your father’s attitude. [...]

A relative, a very close friend, an older man (her father?) connected with the university. [...]

(“I dreamed about my father last night.” [...]

[...] The boy is reacting telepathically for one thing to the father’s worries. The best thing the father can do for now is to be simply kind to the boy, but relieve the child of his heavy-handed thoughts mentally. [...] He is picking up the father’s negative attitudes telepathically.

[...] He is not ready to understand it, and the father has still to realize that no one can bail him out except himself. [...]

[...] Another positive suggestion is for the father to involve himself in creative endeavors with his painting. [...]

[...] You are dealing with your father, for example, from one probability only—the one in which you knew him. [...] The dreams represented your symbolic understanding that he was “a loner” in the probability in which you knew him—and in that guise you saw your father.

[...] If you want a better knowledge of your father’s existence, then try to think of him as a being who happened to be your father, and that will free your concepts of him.

You did not see his reality as a personality apart from the fact of his being your father. [...]

[...] Instead, you discover the car does not crash—and not only that, but your father is much more vigorous at the end of the dream than he was in the beginning. [...] Your father was used as the main character, of course, because he is referred to in your notes, because you planned photographs of him in the beginning, and because in the dream he represented the disapproving portions of your own personality.

His early background was relatively different: an invalid mother, no father, on welfare, et cetera, so his environment alone to some extent placed him in a different light in the eyes of his contemporaries. [...]

(I asked Seth for his interpretation of my dream on Sunday morning, June 25, in which I was highly upset to see my father careening backward in a truck, down Pinnacle Road. [...]

[...] Your father was the symbol of yourself. [...]

[...] At about the same time my father got rid of his, for good. Seth told me some time ago that my father had given me his hay fever, and that for reasons of my own I had accepted the “gift.”

[...] A portion of you was earlier projected to the hospital where your father is. [...]

[...] There are strong connections involving my father, myself, and hay fever.

[...] His father had money and was useless—according to early beliefs received from his mother. The father was also, with money now, sexually promiscuous, according to those beliefs.

[...] His mother’s death, the fact that you left your job, and his own growing understanding released him first in financial terms, because of an always latent knowledge and belief in the reality of abundance—his father did have abundance even while Ruburt believed in poverty as a child.

[...] Seth’s additional data here conjures up the thought that the neighbor’s black cat also serves as the classic symbol of bad or poor luck; the connection here being the failing health of my father, and the failing health in a more drastic way of Mr. Meeker, the father-in-law of my brother Loren. [...] When she called us on August 14, she, of course, discussed the health both of my father and Mr. Meeker.

[...] My mother made the phone call that resulted in the object; my father is in poor health, and she talked of this when Jane returned the phone call at about noon on Sunday, August 14. [...] My sister-in-law’s father is also very ill, having nearly died recently.

[...] My father does not drive much anymore, and traveling is difficult for them. [...]

[...] We thought this referred to a camping trip Jane and I made to Baja California with Jane’s father. [...]

(I was very surprised to see Father. [...] Caught by surprise with my arms up in the air, I quickly lowered my left arm somewhat, holding it stiff, and waved at Father with my hand revolving at the wrist. [...] Father did not speak a word to me, nor did I speak to him or call after him. [...]

[...] Then to my surprise I saw my father ride past me, past the corner, on a bicycle. Father was wearing a familiar brown hat, and a long brown topcoat, incongruously enough, and he was his present age. [...]

I hope to get into your father’s appearance in your dream. [...]

(I will include a copy of the very long, vivid and involved dream I had involving Jane, Bill Macdonnel, three friends of a family from Sayre, and my father, before whatever session Seth uses to discuss it. [...]

(“I thought about Al’s father’s death last night,” Rob said, referring to Al Oberg, a class member whose father had died the Thursday before Jane’s father had. [...]

There is also a connection between the death of Ruburt’s father, your fine physicist’s father’s death, and the introduction of the Sumari name to the class in general.

(“What were you going to say about the connection between Jane’s father and Al’s father and this?”)

[...] You were not picking up anything regarding Ruburt’s father, as you thought. [...]

You had no problems with parents in the past, and my dear Yo-yo, you were an excellent father to me at one time, and if I may say so at one time I was an excellent father to you.

I am now in contact with your parent’s entity and he tells me that subconsciously even his present personality, that is your father, appreciates this fact and loves you deeply. He himself, that is your father’s entity, feels no pain because of the present personality’s problems, since he is working out so many necessary kinks.

But you are to feel free from any rebuffs, realizing that the present personality of your father is choosing to face many hurdles at once. And in this life his failings are more apparent simply because they represent old leftover problem remnants; and you have had a lot to do with your father’s ability to face these problems all at once, so to speak.

[...] You saved your father’s sanity at one point, and no one else could have done it.

[...] It’s attached to this session as page 302 and describes what seems to be in ordinary terms a senseless and horrendous story: A 20-year-old drunken driver crashed head-on into another auto, killing two people, the father and an aunt, and putting the other five passengers, all members of the same family, into the hospital. [...]

The father (a Mr. Moore, killed at age 47) had other difficulties. [...]

The father in many ways wanted to save face, so that his death should indeed appear accidental, and the result of someone else’s fault beside his own. [...]

[...] For the “accident” saved the young man’s life, and this was our father’s final gift to the world. [...]