“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Since you both work at home, those houses do not fit you, generally speaking.¹⁴ Work is not incorporated into daily family life, but certainly exists apart from it — something you find, each of you, relatively inconceivable. You can see farms better, though you are not farmers, simply because there also work and home life are one.

[...] Work and home were united. [...] There was a uniting factor that you recognized, where of office and home were in the same location.

[...] That is, Elmira is no metropolis, but there are areas where old homes with grounds exist amid other old homes now given over to offices of one kind or another.

[...] Again without keeping an exact count, I arrived home with the definite feeling that the car used at least two quarts less oil. [...] I did not tell Jane of my little effort until we were home. [...]

[...] Both of us had heavy colds when we got home on Sunday, August 23.

[...] 22, while Jane and I were sitting in a drafty bar with her father, in Saratoga Springs, NY, while on our way home. [...]

[...] The probability is in fact most intriguing, since it would offer you a home away from home that would still represent largely an investment rather than primarily an expenditure —as would, say, a series of vacations. [...]

(9:00 during a rather steady, emphatic delivery.) Man has within him the need to rest and to explore, to stay by “the hills of home,” (from Thomas Wolfe), and to explore beyond them, but such a relatively accessible second environment does have certain advantages for you and Ruburt over those it sometimes presents for others, and such a willingness to explore the probability alone can give you some excellent results by providing a new elasticity of attitude, and in a fashion by bringing home in a different way the idea that the present is the point of power. [...]

[...] Many of them might work quite well “at home,” but when you begin to journey away from that home station you may find that those same ideas impede your progress.

If you are normally capable of dealing with physical reality, you will encounter no difficulties in alterations of consciousness, or leaving your home station. [...] The same applies when you leave your home station. [...]

[...] When you leave your home station, those objects and events no longer present themselves in the same fashion.

Now, again, Ruburt — Jane — will be able to go home again, in far better condition, able (long pause) finally to sit in a wheel-type chair.

[...] “Just the possibility of being able to go home and sit on my porch again … I want to believe it so, with all my heart and soul …”

[...] Ruburt had been put in the Protestant day camp for an unfortunate short summer following the grandmother’s death, and later into the Catholic home for a more protracted period of time. To some extent he thought of that as punishment, of course, of being abandoned, forced to take charity as well, and the home reinforced all of the Catholic beliefs, particularly stressing the sinfulness of the body. [...] There was no distinction made: to be sinful was of course to be a sinner, and in that home there was no time to foster any kind of independence—the children had to follow strict schedules, toe the mark. [...]

[...] (Long pause.) His mother actually found in the nursing homes a certain kind of comradeship. [...]

[...] By the time he returned home he was quite rigid and moralistic. [...]

(To me:) You imagine a quiet home in the country—the dream in that regard in your mind, knowing full well you have no intentions of using “valuable time” to mow grass, fix pipes or tend to furnaces. [...]

[...] You both are so afraid of being tied down however that even in the apartment you did not allow yourselves really to feel at home—to buy your furniture, cheap or expensive. [...]

[...] They remind you of the noises in your family home, conflicting and yet comforting. [...]

(“Home, sex, power, you and the driveway, hay fever, the impulsive selves that we were talking about earlier tonight”—these are all words dictated to me by Jane abruptly as we sat waiting for the session to begin. [...]

You considered yourself not impulsive, yet it is you who wrote “Make me a galaxy, Jane,” took up with Ruburt after a very brief acquaintanceship, and brought him home to your startled family.

[...] What does he think of me, working at home?” et cetera.

Yesterday, Sunday, had marked the end of Jane’s first week home from the hospital. [...] We were living in Sayre, Pennsylvania, a middle-class railroad town in which I’d grown up, which lies only 18 miles southeast of our present home in Elmira, New York. [...]

[...] I became extremely busy after my wife came home, making what seemed like endless calls and trips about getting prescriptions filled, about trying out various kinds of beds and mattresses and chairs and hospital gowns, about insurance, about a commode, about having a speaker phone hooked up to our regular phone so that Jane wouldn’t have to hold the standard bulky handset to her ear. [...]

[...] 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.

[...] Now he compares this place for example to his childhood home, as subconsciously you compare it to yours, whether you know it or not. [...]

[...] Never knowing when he would go home or not, he kept himself in a constant state of readiness to leave. [...]

[...] Took our cat out though, sat on steps waiting for Rob to come home from work; feeling diminished. [...] Intended to do my errands, come home and write from 1:30 till 4:30.

(Left; started way home. [...] Got home. [...]

(Got home about 1:50 PM Feelings continued, though beginning to lessen. [...]

[...] When I got to 330 Jane told me that Karina had been moved to a rest home in Wellsburg, a small community a few miles east of Elmira. [...]

The kitten merely represented wish fulfillment, in that Ruburt does plan to get a kitten as soon as he is home. [...]

[...] Those gorgeous children struck home with me for many reasons — partly because of Seth’s material, and partly because I think at my own age [65] I’ve come to appreciate more and more the truly creative act that being a parent is. [...]

[...] No problem driving home.)

[...] You resent unused paraphernalia, however neatly arranged, because it reminds you of your childhood home.

[...] You put up what you could loosely term a psychic screen to protect yourself in your parents’ home. [...]

[...] She said that while speaking as Seth about me, she saw me, within, seated at a table or desk in the front upstairs bedroom of my parents’ home in Sayre, Pennsylvania. [...]

(When I got home from 330 I called Margaret Bumbalo. [...] He can come home between treatments. [...]

Philip would do well in his home relationships to be more open, for there is a possibility that his secretiveness could here cause serious difficulties. The home relationship is a strong basis for his inner security, and if he threatens it this will be seriously reflected in his other areas of activity.

I would suggest that our friend with the ulcer read our last two previous sessions, for this will bring home to him the fact that he does indeed, literally, consider his ulcer as much a part of himself as an arm or a leg. [...]

Your other friend sends a part of himself into the marketplace, and leaves the essential part of himself at home. [...]

(Sunday, September 28, Jane and I and my mother visited Father at the county home. Upon returning the same day I took down the screens and put up the storm windows on the family home in Sayre, PA. [...]

(“Why did Jane and I find his photograph so striking?” Sunday at the family home in Sayre, I found a copy my father had made of a very old picture of Otis. [...]

These units have no home. [...]

[...] He should make a definite determined effort to walk home, for his confidence will grow with the success, you see.

[...] Part of the late afternoon symptoms at work, lately, have been caused by a simple fear that difficulty would strike him on his way home. [...]

When he discovers he can walk home, this difficulty will vanish. [...]

(We then discussed her reaction to her early religious home environment, especially to the priests in her life. [...] Some of this may have been due to her lack of a normal home environment, without a father, we said, yet I felt there were strong independent elements in her personality that encouraged such behavior anyhow. [...]

[...] The lesson is obvious, as I wrote when I got home: Sharing the challenge with those others who are involved helps a great deal, and may be vital. [...]

[...] One may have no trees at all, and another be the home of a volcano. [...]

The spirits of the two islands join for a journey to a third one, and there they discover a top-heavy land filled to the brim with strange birds and insects and animals that neither knew at home. [...]

[...] When the volcano itself, ceaselessly erupting, wishes for peace, the spirit of the first island thinks of its own quiet home shores. [...]