“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

The building to the left is closer. It appears to be a garage, a private garage, but I do not believe that it is. It has a large square design at the front like a garage or large barn door or even a firehouse. They are not far from water. There are not many structures between them and the water. High grass for awhile, and some wooden posts and wire.

To some degree. Sand dunes of a sort. There, I have changed position. Now I am facing the house. Directly behind it, it seems clear of structures. It seems clear of structures to the water. But now to the right: the directions have changed now due to my position. The garage structure is now to my right, and behind it there are other structures leading down toward the water. And beyond, some dune area, a beach, the tide is in.

[...] You were pleased when Ruburt walked across the floor with his plunger, without the table, yet both of you expected him to walk down steps, small as they are, and walk around the car in the garage without his table, or there is something wrong. You expect different kinds of behavior in the house and in the garage.

[...] Both of you even refuse to think of using the table in the garage, so Ruburt forces his body into the most unnatural of positions so that he can lean upon the car. [...]

[...] There is nothing about outside, in those terms, that frightens him—that is from the house into the garage, symbolically speaking. [...]

(Today was even warmer than it has been — an incredible 45 degrees when I backed the car out of the garage. Wouldn’t you know it — the spring mechanism that governs the travel of the garage door broke as I was lowering the door, so that I couldn’t close it all the way. So when I got to 330 one of my first acts was to call Overhead Door and ask them to have someone check the garage door this afternoon, if possible. [...]

[...] Also, the garage door had been fixed.)

(The car operated well the day after the garage repaired it, saying the trouble was moisture in the distributor. [...] This necessitated another tow to the garage. To our surprise the second tow and repair were free, the service manager telling us there was corrosion on the coil connections, and that the mechanic should have noticed this and corrected it the first time the car was in the garage.

(Jane and I walked to a nearby station for gasoline but the car still wouldn’t start; consequently the garage had to tow the car in for repairs. Seth’s information on the oil warning light is also apparently correct, for when the garage checked the oil level it was quite low. [...]

(The 220th session, containing Seth’s advice, was held while the car was in the garage the first time. [...]

[...] Through garage etc. [...]

[Jane:] Go down garage steps some better. [...]

[...] 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. [...]

(The warmer weather now allows us to eat lunch at the picnic table we’ve installed in one half of our double garage. Jane writes there often — with the garage doors open — so that she can enjoy the view of the hills at the back of the house.)

In your dream you nicely placed the family in the garage, outside of the closed house, you see. The garage was also a symbol, the place where a vehicle is kept; and your family’s car being used no longer, being a symbol of your father’s body, that he will soon discard.

[...] We had gathered in the garage out back of the house. [...]

I believe that the garage will be torn down to provide extra parking in any case—the doctor’s garage. [...]

[...] There may also be an arrangement where Dr. Stamp’s garage is torn down, and the two driveways combined into a small parking area. [...]

[...] 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.)

[...] She found herself doing this almost without thinking, for she felt that my garage was blocked by another car. [...] She saw me back out of the garage as usual. [...] Jane says this is the first time she can remember that she has checked up to see if the garage was blocked. [...]

[...] Instead I found myself walking back to them, and looking out I saw that, again, a car was blocking the exit of my car from its garage. [...]

[...] Neighbor John Bumbalo took delivery of the package yesterday afternoon while I was at the hospital, and brought it over as soon as he saw me drive into the garage. [...]

He did somewhat better on the garage steps today—because he is, as I said, in a period of transition, and now is able to pull his body higher. [...]

[...] The steps to the garage are no longer dreaded. [...]

[...] We’ve been aware for some time of her ease in sitting and getting up; the garage steps phenomenon is a more recent one; she negotiated those much more easily today.)

(Walking down to the garage at the appointed time, I saw the car still up on the lift. [...]

(Making my feelings plain, I thought, without saying much actually, I left the garage and walked down to tell Jane, who by now had left the gallery and was waiting for me outside. [...]

(We ate quietly and slowly, then walked back up to the garage. [...]

[...] Just as I was opening the garage door, I met a woman who had pulled into the driveway, who has a tumor and wanted to see Jane. [...]

Now: Modern medical science largely considers the human body to be a kind of mechanical model, a sort of vehicle like a car that needs to be checked by a garage every so often.

[...] I can walk to the hospital from the garage. [...]

(Jane’s ideas — and mine, too — have matured considerably since I wrote a month ago that she was thinking of converting half of our garage into a writing room, with its attendant back porch. [...]