“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

A good part of night or so it seems. Body very sore. Then my hip area turns into a hotel or old castle—like they show in horror movies. The soreness turns into the rocky walls that heave. The whole thing is feeling. Can’t describe it—“Bad.” A voice says, “May your womb shrivel and die!” A terrible thing to say, I think—separate enough to understand and comment. I realize these are feelings from childhood. Church—at a very creative level—or the feeling, use the creative ability to bring about punishment, illness or whatever. And that’s how say “black” magic works. (Also I’d lately seen a show on Jack the Ripper and I think the women were so convinced of their “evil” ways at those levels that they broadcast their need for punishment.) Finally awaken—sleep off and on but sore. And as I waken, very sore, feelings of panic (or nearly). In past I wouldn’t have granted those feelings that expression—

“Perhaps what we are has always waited, hidden in the possibilities of creation, dispersed and unknowing — in the rain and wind that swept across Europe in the thirteenth century — in the heaving mountain ranges — in the clouds that rushed through the skies of other times and places. [...]