“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(Note: March 1, 3:05 p.m. Jane read this poem, and the one for February 29, quite easily without her glasses. [...]

[...] I thought that tomorrow we could do something about that, then realized that Jim Baker, our optometrist, was due after 2:00 p.m. to deliver the two new pair of glasses he’d examined Jane for some time ago. That was prime time for us to try free association, yet Jane had to have the glasses.

(I was getting ready to leave at 6:50, after turning and feeding Jane, and so forth, when I discovered I couldn’t find my glasses. [...] I finally found the glasses in the bathroom. [...]

[...] He is getting new glasses and new frames that are in style with the times, and he will not want me to toss them across the room like that (tosses glasses). [...]

(“and a connection with a man who wears glasses. [...] Don Wilbur wears glasses. [...] As we recall he was not wearing his glasses on that particular evening. [...]

[...] Glass doors, and many voices from the other side.

[...] I pick up five again, and a connection with a man who wears glasses. [...]

[...] Again her glasses were off, her eyes dark.)

(Again without her glasses, she resumed at a slower pace at 9:59.)

[...] I saw dimly a glass, and a lit pinup lamp with a shade. [...]

(Jane began dictating again with her glasses off, her eyes quite dark as usual. [...]

[...] She put her glasses on upon ending delivery, but took them off again upon resuming in the same quiet and deliberate manner at 9:34.)

[...] Jane was dissociated as usual, and again resumed wearing her glasses at break. [...]

[...] A package did arrive for Pat Norelli, containing her new glasses, however. [...] Her first question of her roommate, after showing Jane and me our room, concerned the arrival of the glasses. [...]

[...] There is here however a fairly strong possibility (underlined), in connection with someone else she may meet—a male who wears glasses in his leisure hours. [...]

[...] She began dictation in a normal voice, with some pauses, and again without her glasses. [...]

[...] Again with her glasses off, she resumed in the same deliberate manner at 9:37.)

(Again with her glasses off, Jane resumed in a faster and more animated manner at 10:10.)

(She resumed in the same brisk manner, again without her glasses, at 10:40.)

[...] You perceive them stuck like living specimens on the glass of present time, with no comprehension of their multitudinous expression elsewhere.

(Jane said the pyramid felt like glass above her. [...]

(When Jane expressed a willingness to hold the session, she sipped a glass of wine while we waited for Seth to appear. [...] Jane took off her glasses, closed her eyes and began to speak in a quiet voice.)

[...] Part of the time I looked out of a window made up of many small panes of glass, and saw Jane on a swing outside the window. [...]

[...] They open again within a couple of paragraphs, when she lights a cigarette and sips at a glass of wine. [...]

[...] We stood near the large plate-glass windows at the front of the store—quite exposed for all to see, in other words, including those eating at nearby tables, yet no one seemed to be paying any attention to us…. [...] As I waited to go next I turned to look out the front windows—and suddenly found myself surrounded on three sides by walls of the most beautiful floor-to-ceiling, intricate and colorful latticework of diamond-shaped glass crystals I could possibly imagine. [...] Each segment of each color was held within a very thin black frame, as on a much cruder scale the pieces of a stained-glass window can be contained by channeled lead strips. [...]

Instead of the test, you are greeted with a vision of the shimmering glass with its glowing colors and prisms, rich and intricate, representing the true source of life and sexuality itself—the vast multidimensional mosaic of which sexuality is but one facet. [...]

[...] She had trouble with her glasses. [...] Handmade, they had to grind the glass and stuff. They were like magnifying glasses, in a frame on her nose.

[...] She wore glasses and had grayish white hair, she was stout and messy.

[...] I noticed another good sign, though: With her left hand she slid her glasses down her nose far enough so she could rub her left eye—then worked the glasses back up into position with the same hand. [...]

(Note: March 2 — Jane read her two poems again without glasses — just as good as she had from my notes yesterday. [...]

[...] We were standing beside our Christmas tree when Jane took off her glasses and began to speak for Seth, in a voice somewhat stronger than usual. [...]

[...] Once again her glasses were off, her eyes very dark.)

[...] As soon as she sat down she put her glasses on. [...]

[...] Again she put her glasses on at break, having delivered the above material without wearing them. [...]

(Jane resumed in the same good voice, again without her glasses, at 10:17.)

[...] I think most of the time I’ve been reading as well with these glasses as I did with the bifocals; though normal vision hasn’t returned as yet; it’s a hell of alot better.

[...] I thought it a good idea, myself, so when she slept until 10:30, and then became busy talking to Frank Longwell about the conversion of our front porch to a glassed-in affair, I didn’t ask that she try any. [...]

(Two similarities between this time and last time: Although other people weren’t present as they were before, tonight Jane and I were discussing others; and I was also sipping wine [again my first small glass] like before.)