“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

“Well,” Rob said, “someone said a mouthful tonight.” I grinned. The crickets and wood bugs rose up in song from the summer-thick woods out back. I couldn’t remember what I’d said as Seth — and I wasn’t sure if I knew what magic was — or wasn’t — But I knew that the night was … magical, alive with its own natural ceremonies. And that somehow the Seth sessions were as natural and right as the summer evening.

As with so many instances, these weren’t esoteric startling visions, but a kind of in-between event, difficult to identify, or one like the following, that was second-handed. On August 7th at supper time a young fan appeared unexpectedly at the door. I’ll call him John. Rob grinned when he saw him; John had been here twice before (once a year), he was good-humored, good-looking, eager, healthy and strong. He was engaging, and knew it. We talked to him for an hour (while, alas, dinner got cold), but he was one of those people pleasantly gifted in a variety of fields who hadn’t yet settled down to concentrate on the development of any one or two abilities in particular. He was like some kid admiring a box of chocolates; each piece representing one of his own talents, wondering which piece to nibble on first. Somewhere in the conversation, with a smiling sense of wonder, he told us what had happened as he drove through Elmira on the way to our house.

[...] I yelled “Pat;” meaning to wait, she responded, grinning. [...]

[...] She grinned sheepishly. [...]

(Bob Hagel grinned at her, yet for a moment he didn’t know what to say. [...]

I grinned. [...] I managed another grin — and who should know more about “magic” than Seth? [...]

[...] Now she began to grin broadly. [...]

(Again a big grin.)

[...] Grinning broadly, her eyes very dark, sipping at a glass of wine, she leaned forward to tap the desk.)

[...] I mean, why not?” He grinned. [...]

[...] Two neighbors from the house next door stood grinning at us. [...]

(Grinning, Jane pointed to Bill Gallagher. [...]

[...] She grinned and waved at us. [...]

“Is he supposed to be omnipotent?” Rob asked, grinning.

[...] Rob was grinning, watching both of us.

“I thought you didn’t believe that we had one?” Rob said, grinning. [...]

Rob grinned. [...]

“Not until I woke up,” she said with a half-guilty grin. [...]

But Rob only grinned. [...]

Rob grinned. [...]

[...] (As Seth, Jane slapped her knee, grinning.

(I grinned at Seth. [...]

“I though you didn’t think he was a ghost?” Rob said, grinning.

I had to grin. [...]

[...] But here he was, all grins this time … alive and several pounds more substantial.

(I was shaking my head no, grinning, before Seth finished asking his question. [...]

Rob grinned, “Would you rather he didn’t?”

[...] Staring at me, her eyes very dark, Jane grinned. [...]

[...] I wrote it down as usual; then, walking over to me, grinning but also intent, she took the pen from my hand; she herself wrote the word down at the top of the page, in letters 3/4 of an inch high, and underlined it heavily for emphasis in no uncertain terms.)