“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] Take for example then the house in which Ruburt spent his childhood. [...] That house was a conglomeration of atoms and molecules, perceived generally as a house, but perceived specifically by everyone who saw it as a slightly different house. For each observer quite literally created from his own subconscious energy an approximation of a house, a general shape then perceived as a house, and further embellished by personal judgments.

[...] Seems to be important… A bill… Either due on Jerry’s house, or for Billie’s in the past that Jerry’s father didn’t meet, or something that wasn’t paid for. I think on Jerry’s house, but I’m not sure. [...]

[...] With a deeply colored scarf, with fringes (collected antiques, house full of old stuff).

[...] She never saw house. [...]

[...] Some connection with a porch here (I don’t know if Jerry has one); ground floor—some room off a porch, or off the driveway she thinks he should sleep in (tore front porch off this house—enclosed as sun porch. [...]

[...] We stood blocks away but could see the houses where ours was, it was night now, the bright colors of the houses showing clearly, though. [...]

[...] They lived in a pink stucco house with two bedrooms to the rear. The corner was two houses to the right. The house itself was half a mile from San Diego Bay. [...]

“Now there is a small yard with lemons for the brothers; a pink stucco house, two bedrooms to the rear, not a new house. [...]

[...] Now I am facing the house. [...]

[...] Seth’s information about their house was right in every particular, including the data on the area, and the shape of the seacoast there.

[...] A walk, simply about the house outdoors, each day. [...]

[...] He will, as he walks around the house, begin to feel the natural inclination to walk further. [...]

[...] Without seeing the woman in question again, he located her house. [...] He drew a map of the location of the house in relation to The Elms, however; a copy of the map is included at the end of this session, and it can be seen that the house is in the northeastern section of Elmira Heights, as well as also being northeast of Elmira, and is west of the location of The Elms.

Now, separately, I sense a framework, as of a house that is not yet fully constructed. [...] The house is on a hill. [...]

There is a house, not in the western section of town, the third or fourth house in the middle of a block, in which she dwells. [...]

(Seth came through with this, we believe, because he had expressed a wish that we had our recorder going this evening, and because he evidently wanted to sound out strong and loud and could not do so in an apartment house. Seth told John our house would have privacy.

[...] When I checked his home phone, Paul told me he’d taken the day off; he offered to look at Jane here at the house. When he’d done so later in the afternoon, he further offered to do the necessary work here at the house, saving Jane going to his office. [...] After he’d left, we could see that in actuality Paul’s visit had offered all that Jane could have desired, under the circumstances; we hadn’t asked for any of it, even his preliminary visit to the house to examine Jane this time—although he’d done that on a couple of previous occasions, again without being asked by us.

(Thus, Jane found his offers of help at the house to be just what she’d have asked for, given an “ideal” situation. [...]

Ruburt has the impression of the school fence across the street from the house in which he lived, and he is thinking of a particular photograph of his own that involved his house, the street, part of the fence, and perhaps some children. [...]

[...] The house across the street is very small in the photo; for Seth to make an association with that house is most intriguing to us. [...]

[...] The group of four sit on the edge of a concrete patio at the back of Bill’s house. [...]

[...] I saw the chimney of the other house in the test photograph, but this does not show there.

Your idea of the second house frightened him, implying isolation. [...] The recommendation I mentioned and did not give you is this: begin to consider going out, perhaps to the Steak House, or some such. [...]

Your physical circumstances, as per this house, would have seemed quite amazing to you only three years ago. [...]

[...] Today Ken Wrigley echoed Fred Kardon’s sentiments re Jane returning to the house—in favor of it, much to my surprise, and Jane’s too. [...]

[...] His energy is available (pause), and doors to his great mental house are open, awaiting entry. [...]

Remind him of his kindnesses to your apartment-house neighbor, Miss Callahan, to his many students, and of his love for you. [...]

[...] His father, Joe, had died at 2:00 p.m. John had just left the house, as Jane and I had left the rest home just before my mother died in November, 1973. [...]

(I did no typing last night, but typed this session this morning after taking our cat, Billy, around the house on his morning jaunt. [...]

[...] The Chemung River passes less than a block from our apartment house on its way through the center of the city, but since we lived on the second floor we thought we’d be secure. The house was solid, we decided. [...]

[...] She told me that the water would reach its highest level late that afternoon; incredibly, it would become almost ten feet deep in the yard and reach halfway up the first-floor windows of the house next to ours. [...] We couldn’t see it because of the houses across the street.

[...] We sipped wine and used light self-hypnosis to take the edge off our tension, but as we watched the water crawl up the side of the old red-brick house next door, our new reality threatened to turn into a terrifying one indeed. [...]

(In August Jane held one session on the flood — in which Seth had time to just touch upon the reasons behind our personal involvement in it — and late that month and in September we had several house guests in connection with psychic work. [...]

[...] This is separate and the woman here…a strong school connection again…3 o’clock or late afternoon…number 414…now this could be the hour 4:14 or month…I do not know…Green room…202 or 213..whether this is a month or year or house number I don’t know…a grip…a strong grip…in the afternoon…in a room…a woman, gray hair, buck teeth…yellow teeth…She yells out and calls and a young boy comes in blue clothes & bicycle…I think he rides….It’s 1943 or 1947…Room is green…yellow…Room is green…no, cream…yellow…it’s afternoon…..

(Pines—her house is almost completely hidden by the street.

(The party broke up rather early that evening, and Bill then went to the Atlantic House bar with Garry and Larry, where he saw the keg. Bill states that another bar in Provincetown has many small kegs dangling from the ceiling as a means of decoration, but these kegs are quite small, and do not compare with the one in the A-House for size.

(Bill states it is his belief that the “two houses nearby” do refer to the two cottages mentioned above, one shared by Gary and Larry O’Toole, with the front room across from the beach, since they are not far down the street from the A-House bar.

I am not reprimanding either of you in any manner, nevertheless your failure to take the house represented a lack of what we may call faith, and your work with the material will require faith in the ideas here presented.

[...] There are two houses nearby, and a front room across from a beach. [...]

An example, dear friends, is your house.

[...] Ruburt, mainly, worked out the problem psychologically, actually living in the house in the psychological field. [...]

[...] It goes without saying that your expectations have been transformed into reality, and the house now would not be practical, unless of course your own expectations changed drastically.

[...] Still sitting across the table from me, she remarked that if Seth had promised, earlier, to maintain the road to the house for us, she would have gone through with the deal. [...]

[...] Because of the conventional ranch-style floor plan of the hill house, our bedroom is isolated from the front and back doors; we reach it at the end of a hall opening off the living room. [...] A blaze anywhere in the central section of the house, with its heat, gas, and smoke, could easily prevent me from reaching the front or back door as I sought to carry Jane to safety. [...]

[...] He imagined the couple at the house, and surprised himself by thinking that he might indeed call them later in the day and invite them down for the evening, even though he and Joseph had both decided against guests that weekend.

[...] I had our friend position smoke alarms throughout the house.

[...] Seth’s comments about fleas made me wonder about using the flea bombs in the house that Frank Longwell had gotten for me a few days ago. These would kill every flea in the house, supposedly. [...] I began wondering how to compromise about the flea situation this summer, now that the rugs in the house are all clean.

[...] That is, the living room in the hill house is now her writing room, and her one-time writing room at the back, north side of the house has become the living room — or call it the den-and-television room. [...]

(Over two years ago, in Note 2 for Session 801, and in the opening notes for Session 805, I described our decision to add the writing room to the house. [...]

[...] I also know that as I prepare these notes our 7-month-old kittens, Billy Two and Mitzi, are racing through the house.

[...] Already I looked forward to their migration, that ancient movement I’ve become especially fond of since we moved into the hill house over four years ago. [...]

(Long pause.) Ruburt had a dream with excellent connotations, in which he looked through a beautiful old house of lovely carved wood and spacious rooms, and decided to move into the house, even though it was in an area that had previously nearly been condemned — signifying that he was indeed rising from beliefs that he condemned into a larger, spacious area of expression.

(Note: Just as Jane had had this dream, I’d read an article in the Star-Gazette to the effect that a few blocks near downtown Elmira, including the apartment house we’d lived in at 458 W. Water Street, had been designated a Historical Preservation Area by New York State. [...]

[...] Now though it seems to you perhaps at this point tragic, the facts are that the real tragedy would have occurred had the cat lived, in your terms, and had you curled up in it, in your house on the corner, and turned your love inward to the animal rather than outward, for there are people who need it. [...]

[...] Now, the animal went on as a youngster leaves the house and grows up. [...]

[...] Now it is easy for me to say this, but you can be aware of it in your experience if you choose, but he has been watching out for you and many of the decisions you have made, including the purchase of your house, have been overseen by him though he encouraged you to make the decision on your own. [...]