“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] Jane also felt she blocked some of this data. The next day, yesterday, Jane had a most unusual experience for her. [...] The sense of premonition lasted for about three hours with Jane, then lifted. [...]

[...] On November 2, four days later, we received a short letter from Dr. Instream in which he asked that Jane and I “simply continue as we are going.” This noon Jane told me she thought Seth might have something to say tonight about the attempts at communication with Dr. Instream.

(Seth also said Jane would have some short-story sales in the 201st session. This is a possibility of course since Jane has material out. [...]

[...] Jane began speaking while sitting down and with her eyes closed. [...]

(Now Jane, as Seth, began a most entertaining performance. To this point Jane had been sober, quiet and dignified. [...] I have seen Jane display mirth in the sessions before, but this period of such feeling lasted far longer. [...]

(A few days ago Jane and I had looked at another apartment, one much bigger than ours and also more expensive. [...] It belongs to one of Jane’s coworkers at the art gallery. [...]

(At 8:45 Jane awoke from her nap feeling much refreshed. [...] Jane was so enthusiastic over this idea that she forgot to be nervous before the session began.

[...] Seth-Jane was also quite amused. [...] He has also stated that he will have much fun with Jane and me as he reveals those existences to us. [...]

[...] Then this morning Dr. Tihansky called me from Schuylkill Haven, PA, to offer his sensible-seeming suggestions for Jane’s care. [...] I related the whole business to Jane this afternoon after she’d finished lunch, and expressed my frank hope that “a certain party” might have some pertinent comments on the whole affair. [...]

(I told Jane that the variety of opinions we’d received on the anti-amoebic treatment left us hanging in limbo as far as knowing what to do. [...] I was still amazed at that, especially, I told Jane, when one considered all the ways by which a doctor could get in trouble by advocating such secret behavior. [...]

[...] I found myself wondering about hypnotizing Jane myself, as part of the “dehypnosis” process I’d mentioned earlier. Jane, let me know. [...]

(I turned Jane over on her left side, pillow between her knees, at 4:10. [...]

(Jane tried not to panic. [...] It seemed to help a great deal, Jane said. [...] Jane said she felt the same muscular activity in her back, hands, arms and legs that she had when the middle finger began turning color. [...]

(I gave Jane the dosage last night and this morning. [...] Jane wondered if the flower extract had anything to do with the little finger acting up; its color was mildly dark compared to the middle finger’s original dark blue appearance. [...]

(Yesterday we received from Hal Williams of Lancaster, PA, three medications he had promised to send: a baby cream, a calindula flower extract for use on Jane’s decubiti, and a powder—also I believe based on the calindula—for her to take at 12 hour intervals for blue fingers, if any. [...]

(After supper Jane asked me if I agreed with her decision not to call Dr. Kardon, when I hadn’t thought of doing so to begin with—especially in light of the high bill we’d received from St. Joseph’s to begin with, for the last finger episode. [...]

[...] It was held primarily so that Rich Conz, of The Elmira Star-Gazette, could photograph Jane in trance. We wanted the photos for Jane’s book on the Seth material, which is now practically finished. Rich also brought with him contact proofs of photos he took of Jane and me yesterday afternoon.

(This passage grows out of a very recent call from Betty Taylor, of the Spiritual Frontiers Fellowship group, to Jane, concerning a weekend visit to Pawling, New York in early December, and a possible lecture tour of the Northeast. Betty offered to book Jane on this tour, etc.)

(Seth now broke off and began speaking to Rich as he moved around Jane. [...] Humorously, Jane wagged a finger at Rich.)

(The session was also witnessed by Diane Sorino, a friend of Rich’s. Jane and I sat for the session by 8:45, to see if one would be held, etc. [...]

(At an earlier break, Bill had mentioned to me, while Jane was out of the room, that he believed Jane was right-handed but that Seth used predominantly left-handed movements. I hadn’t noticed this, but told Bill Jane had talked at times of being left-handed as a child; I told him I remembered Jane saying something about being made to write right-handed in school.)

(Seth broke off his material to introduce this bit of humor because Bill, sitting perhaps five feet away, was leaning forward and staring intently at Jane as she spoke. Smiling, her eyes still closed, Jane now shifted her chair so that she did face Bill squarely.

(Jane and Bill now made their drawings of the clock, without seeing each other’s or mine, and my copies of all three are below. [...] Note that only Jane points up the uneven gilt surface in her version.)

(Seth/Jane now turned toward Peggy, who had been sitting quietly by. Jane’s eyes were still closed, although she was smiling. [...]

(It might be worth noting here a point which came out as Jane and I [...] It develops that at about the precise time I had induced the desired state in myself, while lying on the bed in our bedroom, Jane had been sitting quietly in the living room, almost dozing on the couch. [...] It had been a busy day for Jane at the gallery, so busy in fact that she had not had time to go down to the restaurant for the usual order of coffee the gallery personnel are used to enjoying every afternoon. While sitting on the couch, she had thought again about missing coffee break; the thought had come with some vehemence because the gallery is in a state of flux, and Jane finds this quite upsetting.)

(At 8:55 PM Jane was still sitting out on the front steps; it had been a very hot day, and a busy one for us. [...] I took my usual place at our living room table, wondering whether Jane would appear on time. [...]

(Earlier this evening the pendulum had told Jane we would have a witness for the session, but none had appeared. Jane was somewhat nervous by 8:59, though not anything like she used to be. [...]

(Jane and I have been waiting without effort, yet with anticipation, for Seth to get to our personal experiments with psychological time. [...] Many of mine have been visual, while Jane seems to produce more audio effects. [...]

[...] Jane was dissociated as usual, her eyes open often. [...] Jane has also received a letter concerning some of these poems from Playboy Magazine, regarding their consideration for publication as a book. [...] In addition Jane mailed her article to Fate Magazine recently. [...]

[...] Jane and I met two young couples there by prearrangement, and we had much fun dancing. [...] This contained the design, printed in red, without any unusual thickness to furnish Jane unwitting clues. [...]

(Jane spotted it at break at 10:28 before I did: part of the above data seems to pertain to this evening’s envelope object. [...] So my surprise was considerable, consciously, when Jane opened the envelope and revealed the coaster.)

(“A connection with grassy land”, led Jane to say a connection could be seen with the envelope object after all. [...] Jane had the idea, now, that the envelope object advertised beer, made from grain.

(“Sometimes,” I said as I talked with Jane after she’d had her lunch, “I feel like just saying the hell with it all and waiting ‘till something happens—‘till someone gets on us for money, or something—and then turning the whole thing over to Pete if necessary.” Jane agreed. [...]

(I took the lunch tray out to the cart after Jane was finished, and met Marilyn Sullivan, who introduced herself to me. [...] Talked to her on the phone the other day about the interview with Jane yesterday. [...]

(After our usual nightly routine of turning, massage, nap and supper—the tray was late—and prayer, I read the session for tonight to Jane. [...] Another advance, Jane. [...]

(Even now, I was sure that yesterday’s session had helped me moderate my own reactions to the latest events—and that was good, I told Jane. [...]

[...] Jane was telling me that an aide who took care of her this morning, and who is living apart from her husband and has three kids, looked at a second-hand washing machine this noon but couldn’t afford the $130 cost. [...] Jane at once enthusiastically agreed. As though on signal, the aide came in to empty Jane’s Foley, and we explained our idea to her. [...]

(I haven’t seen Jane so enthusiastic about doing anything for a long time. [...] I’d often wondered what else I — or anyone else — could do to help Jane, and here a possible solution lay right before us all the time …)

[...] I talked to Jane: “I’m not dying or anything, but could you come down now? [...]

(I fed the cats and shaved, and arrived at 330 before 7:00 a.m. Jane was very sore. [...]

“At 8:45 I walked into the living room to waken Jane for the evening’s session. [...] (Several years later, Jane was to list nine such inner senses in Chapter 19 of The Seth Material.) Jane said that upon coming slowly awake from her nap she’d had the very peculiar feeling of ‘growing larger.’ The laughing phrase she used was that she’d felt as ‘big as an elephant.’ Her boundaries of awareness seemed to have expanded. [...]

(So Jane experienced a modest series of unusual psychic events before the sessions themselves began; some details on these have been given in earlier notes. Her first massive sensations in March [estimated], 1962, were followed by these phenomena in 1963: our York Beach experiences in August; her reception of Idea Construction in September; her massive feelings in October [estimated]; the outline she produced for ESP Power [or The Coming of Seth] as a result of the Idea Construction adventure; and the beginning of these sessions in November, through our trying certain experiments listed in that outline [as Jane explains in Chapter 1 of The Seth Material]. [...] Listing them as I’ve done here is also apt to artificially set them aside from the flow of insights within the poetry Jane has written since childhood; actually, of course, all are related.

“Jane added that when we close our eyes we’re aware of a certain ‘area of blackness,’ one we’re used to. [...] Jane said it was as though her eyes had actually moved further apart to create this expanded field of awareness, of infinite black. [...]

[...]

(Even as Seth spoke through Jane, Willy uttered a loud meow. [...] Entangling himself in Jane’s feet as she tried to pace back and forth, he finally interrupted her dictation while she petted him. He then hopped up on Jane’s empty chair, opposite mine, and lay there staring at me for some time while I took notes. [...] I then realized that Jane’s eyes also had this look when she was dictating. [...]

[...] Jane had opened some fresh food for Willy, and while he ate in our very small kitchen she began putting the groceries away. [...] Jane was kneeling, reaching into a cupboard, and Willy was momentarily trapped behind her. [...] Jane, her back to him, stood up so quickly that she banged her head on an open cupboard door. [...]

[...] By now Jane’s voice had regained its normal tone, though it was a bit hoarse. [...] Jane began to get an answer to this, and when she began dictation her voice was normal. [...]

[...] During the above monologue Jane’s voice was quite normal, and so it remained for the rest of the session. Without my asking any questions, Jane resumed dictating at 10:45.)

[...] Jane began by talking about how her mother, Marie, told her at puberty that she had bad blood in her from her father [Delmer], that he had syphilis. Jane was frightened at having her periods and talked to a nun about all of it — and the nun would have her own hangups, probably; Jane didn’t say, or perhaps remember.

[...] Jane used to write poems to get back in Marie’s good grace: “At the same time I felt like I was betraying myself for doing it. [...] I didn’t remember Jane telling me this before, though she might have.

[...] Again Jane was nervous and edgy, near crying. [...] Jane said she felt like she could chew nails. [...]

[...] The first time they met, Jane said Father Rakin said to her when she was but 13: “You’re just too forward.” A nice greeting, and one Jane obviously still remembers. [...]

[...] Jane began speaking while sitting down and with her eyes closed; her eyes then began to open frequently after a few paragraphs of material. [...] Jane began speaking at 8:58.)

(Our cat, Willy, had jumped up into Jane’s lap. [...] Jane’s eyes did not open up but her delivery became spasmodic. [...]

(This is the first time in many sessions that Willy has paid any attention to Jane during a session. [...] At times he would attempt to entangle himself in Jane’s legs as she paced about the room while speaking for Seth. [...]

(It was very interesting to watch Jane produce the above-mentioned book of poetry. [...] The poems are of high qualityindeed, and Jane felt certain from the start that they would be published. [...]

(This afternoon, frightened by a grim tale of lung cancer involving an acquaintance of ours, Jane made an abrupt effort to stop smoking. [...] Jane went so far as to throw away a half-used pack of cigarettes.

(It might be noted here that the 87th session dealt rather extensively with Jane’s death from cancer in a previous life in Boston, and stated that she would not die of the disease again. Jane was a woman medium in Boston a century or so ago, according to Seth, and possessed clairvoyant knowledge of her own death, at 82 or 83, from cancer.

(Following Seth’s recent okay, Jane has begun trying psychological time on a fifteen-minute basis, either in the afternoons or evenings. [...]

(Jane spoke this evening in a very quiet voice that often bore quite humorous, if gentle, overtones. [...]

(After supper I trimmed Jane’s finger and toenails. [...] Jane agreed that perhaps we could have a very short session. I got my notebook and pens, and Jane said that at the same time she thought of a session, she “got that dozing-off feeling thing....” [...]

[...] I agreed to it, and told Jane, but we didn’t really want to go. [...] I told her Jane’s finger is improving, and that as far as I could see no other fingers were involved in the discoloration. [...]

(My own moods have been poor lately, and it’s been a struggle to revive myself at times and to try to keep them from influencing Jane, for I can see that they do. [...]

(I think Jane and I are well aware of that point.)

(Today Jane looked and acted somewhat better, following our talks and actions yesterday. [...] I selected them at random this morning, but picked just those I wanted, for their import is that Jane has no disease, as Seth has insisted all along. In other words, I told Jane, she doesn’t have to surmount any physical debilitating disease that has bacteria or germs or microbes attached to it, and is labeled “incurable.”

(3:36 p.m. Jane asked me to read the session to her, and tell her what I thought of it. [...] Jane wasn’t so sure about the recovery, but I said I thought I’d seen signs of that the last few days, and now felt it would happen. [...] I told Jane I realized it would be tougher for her to realize these things, but that I thought events would prove them out.

[...] I thought Jane might get confused, being bombarded with so many ideas and suggestions from so many angles.

[...] I think that now I’ve learned — and hope to help teach Jane — that there’s nothing for it but to use one’s abilities full blast in every area — and that that resolve and action will conquer all and set her free — physically, creatively, and mentally.

(I finished last night’s session at 11:00 AM, filed the carbons, etc., and called Jane at about 11:15, thinking that I’d get to spend half an hour in the yard before lunch. [I’d begun to mow the grass.] Jane was waking—but she was in a surprisingly uncomfortable, “sore” state involving her legs and hips. [...] It was clear something had happened: Jane said her legs were more relaxed than they’d been in years—but at the same time they were so sore she was appalled. [...]

[...] I was typing last night’s deleted session this morning, when at about 10:00 AM Jane said she would like to lie down briefly. [...] When I looked in on Jane at 10:30, thinking she’d want to get up, I found instead that she was sleeping heavily, with her knees and legs relaxed and “dumped” to her left in a more relaxed position than usual. [...]

(Most interesting, and perhaps a significant breakthrough, Jane felt better by the time Peggy Jowett came at 1:45, and we explained the situation to Peggy. “I’m exhausted,” Jane said.)

[...] Jane loved it, but almost broke down crying as I came in at noon. [...]

(“A connection with a flower or flowers”, immediately reminded Jane of our visits to Enfield Glen, or Robert Treman State Park. Jane was subjectively sure of this, she said. [...]

[...] Jane, her eyes closed, indicated both ends of the envelope. [...] Jane had one of her images here, seeing mentally two small objects in a space resembling the usual envelopes; she saw no detail however.

[...] Here Jane was subjectively sure that this refers to the envelope object. [...] Jane said this data is the way she would refer to such an object.

[...] Actually, now, Jane sat very still, in trance, for over two minutes. [...] When she did leave trance Jane said Seth “spoke to us silently,” and debated as to whether to speak further this evening without notes on my part. [...]

[...] This part of the article is approximately in line with the material Jane came through with some hours later. Her material, however, wasn’t influenced by the news story, for just about a year ago Seth-Jane delivered a session for Personal Reality on the mixing of animal and man: the 648th for March 14, 1973, in Chapter 12. I’d say that this evening Jane elaborated upon that session — especially upon the impressions she gave then during the 11:30 break, on “animal doctors … a bridge between animals and human beings.” [...]

(Yesterday, in the magazine section of a leading metropolitan newspaper, Jane and I read a long article on the evolution of ancient man — “ancient” here meaning “true man” at least 2.5 million to 3 million years old. Aside from the question of whether “evolution” in ordinary linear terms has been scientifically proven [concerning which point Jane and I have many reservations], we were drawn to the article because we thought its “factual” information might eventually supplement some of Seth’s material for “Unknown” Reality. [...]

[...] Then, as we made ready to retire, Jane announced that she was “getting” information on the subject of ancient man — but not necessarily from Seth. [...] I found a pen and some paper in Jane’s desk. [...]

(There would be material in this book, Jane told me, about: