“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(The call was over our speakerphone, so Jane could hear SC when he said that her Seven III “was charming,” and that he liked it very much. He wants to see more, and I explained what Jane has ready and has yet to do. [...] Jane was very pleased that SC liked Seven, since I learned that she’d been worrying about this. [...]

[...] I said Jane’s mother had been abandoned by her father, that her grandparents had also been separated through bitter argument, and that Jane herself had often been threatened with such a fate by her mother. Also—because of the nature of her own psychic work, Jane must feel abandoned by the literary establishment—and even society in general—no matter if certain people do buy her books. [...]

[...] Jane had finished her cigarette but hadn’t taken off her glasses yet. [...] [Billy had caught a mouse in my writing room this afternoon.] “I’m just waiting,” Jane said, half-dozing. [...] If only Jane could understand that she had nothing to fear by way of abandonment from me, I thought. [...]

(Yesterday, Jane wrote for me, at my request, a few lines about Seth’s remark in last Saturday’s session, to the effect that she’s been picking up some unusual versions of perception lately. The original is attached to this session: “I’ve experienced odd perceptions in relaxed states,” Jane wrote. [...]

[...] At 4:45, before I turned Jane on her side, Lynne came in to tell me I had a phone call at the nurse’s station. [...] She said that next Tuesday at 1:00 PM one of the heads of placement at the Chemung County Infirmary a block away would be at 330 to interview Jane, with an assistant, and could I please be there too? [...] The thought was broached that Jane could be moved—nothing definite. [...] Catherine said names could be moved up and down the Infirmary’s list—evidently Jane’s had been shifted several times when it was determined she was too ill to be moved. [...]

(I also told Pete that Andy Fife had told me that Jane had been rejected by the other facilities in the area, because in their opinion she required too much personal care. This was news to Jane and me; I’d forgotten that Jean Sweeney-Dun had taken me around to those places months ago. Jane broke her leg after that. [...]

[...] Lynne took Jane’s blood pressure and pulse. Without our saying anything, she remarked on how well Jane’s ulcers were healing, and how much better she was. When people finally stopped coming in, Jane said she did want to have a session. [...]

(“Anyhow,” Pete told me, “I know it may not be easy, but I want you and Jane to not worry. [...] He said this after A. Fife had outlined the situation, that Jane didn’t require hospitalization. [...]

[...] I had not observed any change in Jane’s features, the few times I had managed to take a look. Bill however remarked that he thought he had detected a change; he thought Jane’s lower jaw line had become more rounded, losing a little of its angularity. As it happened Bill could see Jane full-face from his position on the couch. I sat beside him and saw more of the left side of Jane’s face, and Peggy from her position was looking at the right side of Jane’s face. [...]

[...] Jane’s eyes were open, but much darker and more luminous than usual. [...] At the end of the reading Jane closed her eyes; when she opened them again she was out of the trance. [...] Bill Gallagher felt that while she was reading Jane spoke with a brogue. [...]

(We have always thought of the 33rd session as furnishing the most dramatic display of voice changes on Jane’s part, both in volume and a lower register. I would say that tonight’s session saw Jane surpass those voice effects as far as sheer power and staying ability went by some little margin; but I do not think her voice dropped as low. Nevertheless it was very vibrant and strong, and Jane now told us she felt no aftereffects, her cold notwithstanding. [...]

[...] Jane began to speak from the rocker but had uttered only a few words when she got up and took a chair at the table with me. [...] It will be remembered that in the 157th session Jane had mentioned that she felt Seth might try to have her speak with her eyes open soon, and while in a deep trance. In that session also, Jane had felt very restless, perhaps presaging such a change.

[...] Sharon came in to take Jane’s blood pressure. Jane hadn’t mentioned her imagery involving the bridge, or her feelings during the prayer. [...] I learned that I’d also confused something Jane had told me about her visualizing efforts yesterday: she’d meant she saw herself washing down 1730 Pinnacle, not 458 West Water Street. [...]

(I told Jane I wouldn’t mind having Seth comment tomorrow. [...] But then, Seth said Jane doesn’t have arthritis—so that’s what we’ve been going by. [...] In short, I wanted something from Seth about whether it was worth it, or even necessary, that Jane try this diet—which, after all, would be the latest in the series of schemes I’ve come across in efforts to help her. [...]

[...] I rubbed the flower extract Steve Blumenthal had given Jane last night on her knuckles of the right hand; we’ll use that location as a test site. [...] And Steve didn’t ask Jane if he could see me, so I didn’t hear from him. [...]

(Then Jane told me that in hydro Gail Greene said that one of the ulcers on her back was starting to bleed a bit—another good sign, since the bleeding is a sign of healing. The ulcer on Jane’s knee showed that sign before it began to heal.)

Some of our other books contain more information on how Jane grew up fatherless, and with a Marie who soon became bedridden and embittered. Mother and child were supported by welfare, and assisted over the years by a series of itinerant housekeepers—a number of these were prostitutes who, according to Jane, were periodically thrown out of “work” when town officials would shut down the “houses,” try to clean up gambling, and so forth. [...] (She would terrify the young Jane by stuffing cotton in her mouth and pretending she’d committed suicide, for example.) Jane also spent time in a strictly run Catholic orphanage. [...] Her mother died in 1972, at the same age; Jane, who hadn’t seen Marie for a number of years, did not attend the funeral. [...]

In our ceaseless search for answers to an unending list of personal questions, we discussed the notion that in her own way Jane has described a circle from her childhood: Her parents, Marie and Delmer, were married in Saratoga Springs, a well-known resort town in upper New York State, in 1928. They were divorced in 1931, when Jane was two years old. (Jane didn’t see her father again—he came from a broken home himself—until she was 21.) By the time Jane was three years old, her mother was having serious problems with rheumatoid arthritis. [...]

[...] In physical terms, then, I think it quite possible that in Jane’s case long-term stress, beginning in her early childhood, consistently overstimulated her immune system. Over and over Marie told Jane that she was no good, that the daughter’s birth had caused the mother’s illness. Well before she was 10 years old Jane had developed persistent symptoms of colitis, an inflammation of the large intestine/bowel that is often associated with emotional stress. [...] Finally in her mid-30s there came the beginning of rheumatoid arthritis: Jane’s immune system greatly increased its attack upon her body.

[...] “But the benefits are still weeks away,” she told Jane. The increase followed the positive results of a blood test the doctor had ordered a few days previously: A hospital technician had come to our hill house to draw blood from Jane—performing a “phlebotomy service.” Now Jane must have such a test before each increase in her thyroid medication.

(Jane held no session yesterday, December 5, but I’d like to note a couple of items. Jane had to have her catheter changed three times while I was there yesterday. [...] Jane ate well in between all the action. [...]

(The main thing I want to note is that after the catheter had been changed for the last time, Jane very nearly turned over on her left side by herself. [...] At the same time, Jane doesn’t know how she did it—the action evidently was the way it should be, largely automatic. I heard her exclaim over the feat at the time, without paying a lot of attention, since I’d shoved my chair back into a corner to get out of the way while the staff worked on Jane; I was doing mail. [...]

(I described the dream to Jane before she had lunch, and asked that Seth comment if she had a session. [...] I told Jane the dream contained no sexual acts at all. [...]

(Jane didn’t go to hydro this morning, since the tank broke down. [...] I’d seen him in the corridors often, and he’d seen me—but netiher of us had connected the other with Jane.

(She explained that Jane hadn’t been offered a room on the second floor—because there wasn’t adequate staff to take care of her. [Jane later said Fred Kardon might have mentioned this some time ago; I don’t recall.] Madeline Sullivan said we were well off as far as our insurance goes, and I laughed and said, “Yes, only we can’t collect.” [...] She said something about hospital policy being to review cases after a six-month period, but I couldn’t elicit from her when Jane’s current six-month period might have begun. [...]

(Jane ate a good lunch. [...] I described to Jane a very strong, vivid dream I’d had last night of her being fully recovered and in excellent health. [...] I was telling everybody that Jane had just spontaneously recovered her health and the ability of walking: I could see dimples in her knees as she moved about. [...]

(After lunch, and I’d done a little mail, Jane and I exchanged some of our gifts for each other. [...] Jane was irritated by then, and I’d almost forgotten how I’d laughed when I first opened up the package. [...]

[...] I explained to Jane that much of it was a rehash of what I’ve told other social service workers. [...]

[...] Carla called for Jane at 9:15, as I was typing this material. She told me that Jane loved me, and that she was having “a better night.” I asked Carla to give Jane my love. [...] And Jane smiled and said that she’d been tempted many a time to have me called to come see her, especially late at night.

(Jane said she didn’t want to hear it when I asked her if she wanted me to read it back to her. [...] I believe it literally deals with Jane’s questioning over whether to live or die.

(Jane said she treasured every day we’d been together throughout our marriage. [...] Jane said I could take up with Sue — although I doubt if Sue would care to do that.

(I’d like to add that while there’s life there’s hope, and that as Seth has said many times, one who doesn’t want to die — as Jane said the other day she didn’t — won’t for any reason. But I told Jane that I couldn’t ask her to do something she didn’t want to do. [...]

[...] An exchange followed between Jane, F. Fell, and myself. F. Fell asked Jane if she would be willing to speak as Seth at, say, Town Hall, if he rented it. Jane said yes. [...]

(Jane met no old acquaintances at Star Island or in Boston, nor was any unusual session held. On August 9, Wednesday, Jane was invited by telephone to appear on the Burke TV show in New York City. On the evening of August 15, Tuesday, Jane and I were having supper at an outdoor restaurant, The Californian, at 7th Avenue and Broadway in New York City. [...]

(The brief session was held in the office of Jane’s publisher, Frederick Fell, in New York City. On August 15, Jane had declined to appear on the Alan Burke TV show, WNEW-TV.

(Jane said she was fairly well “out.” [...] I said I thought Seth referred to Jane here.

(I hadn’t realized that her grandfather, Joseph Burdo — “Little Daddy,” as Jane had called him — had spent a couple of years in a hospital for TB when Jane had been around ten years old. I also understood as we talked that when Jane’s grandfather had wanted to move out of the house on Middle Avenue, he had sold all the furniture and had the utilities turned off. [...] To Jane this had seemed like a second divorce in the family. [...]

[...] The nurse said Jane wasn’t good. [...] Jan was to tell Jane at once if I’d see her. [...]

(Jane was uncomfortable, up to her shoulders on two full chucks, propped and wedged so she couldn’t move. [...] Jane cried at times, but not excessively. [...]

[...] Jane came up with several excellent insights. [...] This came to Jane’s consciousness as we watched a very creative skit on the TV program Sesame Street. [...]

Even though she wasn’t walking, Jane continued taking her steps between her office chair and the living-room couch, from which she was giving most of her sessions those days. [...] Even the simple act of writing was becoming increasingly difficult for her.¹ On December 4 I sent back to our publisher the corrected copy-edited manuscript for God of Jane. And late that month, and for the very first time, Jane allowed me to push her in her chair in front of company—a Friday-night group of friends, one reminiscent of the free, exuberant gatherings we used to have every weekend in our downtown apartments. Not that all of our friends hadn’t known of Jane’s physical symptoms for some time, but that Jane, with her innocence and determination—and yes, her mystical view of temporal reality²—had for the most part refused to put herself on display, as she termed it: She felt that she should offer something better to herself and to others, even with all of the intensely creative work she’d done for herself and for others over the last 17 years.

(I have difficulty believing it even when I write it—but eight months have passed since Jane held her last session for Dreams, the 928th, on November 12, 1980. [...] During this period Jane gave two regular nonbook sessions [on November 26, 1980, and on January 5, 1981], plus 48 private sessions, so we’ve been busy! [...] Jane delivered the introductory session on that subject on March 11 of this year, and I’ll be quoting from it in a note. [...] I also plan to excerpt several of those sessions for notes, and to quote a number of times from Jane’s personal journals for 1980 and 1981. [...]

Painting is really unalloyed fun for Jane. [...] Jane is freer. [...] Because of her defective vision Jane sees perspective differently than I do, yet achieves her own kind of depth with her “instinctive” designs and color choices. [...] To me, the lessening of Jane’s physical mobility has resulted in a strong compensating growth in her painting mobility. [...]

The day after that session for March 11 was held we received a jolt: Eleanor Friede, Jane’s editor at Delacorte Press, informed us that Jane’s book, Emir’s Education in the Proper Use of Magical Powers, was being remaindered—taken off the market because in the publisher’s view it wasn’t selling enough copies. [...] Perhaps our shock came about because we’d become spoiled without realizing it, but of Jane’s 14 books Emir¹⁰ is the first one to be withdrawn—and, ironically, the last one she’d had published. That status would soon change, however, when Mass Events and God of Jane reached the marketplace.

(Jane does not know what association led her to mention a border of flowers. Most striking of all perhaps, she said that when she heard herself speak the initials J. B., she knew that Seth meant Jane Butts, the subject of the photograph. [...] The reference to hills is clearly seen in the photo: Jane sits on a group of craggy high rocks on the Maine seacoast. [...]

(I would like to note here that the Gallaghers have not pressed Jane to name the object, in trance or otherwise, nor have I. Jane has certainly been aware of it, since she has mentioned it to me at odd times during the last few days. Therefore I was somewhat surprised that either Jane or Seth might be considering an attempt to name it now.

(Also, while she was giving the data Jane experienced a concept. [...] And also again, at this time Jane had a “distant” thought or impression of the error she made in the first test regarding a license, but felt content that she was keeping herself in the background.

(Seth/Jane spoke quietly but firmly in answer to my question. The object in question is one that Jane’s friend, Peggy Gallagher, is carrying about with her in her handbag. [...]

(Before the session began I asked Jane to comment on two points made in the last session: The 442nd session was held on Monday, October 14. On Thursday, October 17, Jane unexpectedly received a royalty check from F. Fell re her ESP book; this after Seth had stated on page 107 that Jane would soon receive unexpected word regarding a book. [...]

(Note that on page 107 of the 442nd session, Seth also predicted a considerable improvement soon in Jane’s physical condition. Jane has received her expected note from Harry Edwards in England, concerning absent healing, and in answer to Jane’s monthly report; therefore another letter soon from Edwards would be unusual.)

(When she could finally talk Jane revealed that she had been experiencing a concept to accompany the personality’s words; this she has done before when speaking for Seth’s entity, and we have been told before that this is one of the reasons or purposes for her speaking for this new personality. But this one was a rough trip, Jane said. This experience, Jane said, “wasn’t great.”

(This was a surprise, and it took me a moment to realize that Seth was referring to his own larger personality, his entity as we call it, and for whom Jane has occasionally spoken in a much different voice. See Jane’s notes at the end of this session.

(This little exchange was interesting to Jane and me. It will be remembered that Jane’s entity name is Ruburt, and that Seth refers to Ruburt as “he”; our interpretation of this being that Jane’s entity is male-oriented in the overall sense. [...]

[...] This place has strong emotional attachments for Jane and me. It will be remembered that it was in the dancing room of the Driftwood that Jane and I saw the personality fragments we had ourselves created, on our vacation in York Beach in 1963. [...]

(Bill Gallagher said that in his opinion Jane, when speaking as Jane, doesn’t move her facial muscles the same as Seth does. [...]

[...] I had planned to hand Jane the test envelope at about 10:00. Her eyes had been open up to this point, but she now closed them and sat waiting quietly while I handed the envelope to Bill; he passed it to Jane. [...]

[...] It will be remembered that Jane’s second envelope test was held on the night of August 23, in the 180th session, and that the test photo featured Jane on the waterfront at York Beach. [...]

(Jane’s eyes now opened. [...] They did not open fully; Jane looked casually at me, and about the room, from beneath half-lowered lids. [...]

(Jane now told me she thought the “two people” referred to by Seth in the 2nd envelope test in the 180th session, were Dr. Instream and his wife Judy. [...] At the time, I had assumed that the two people referred to were Jane and me, since she was in the picture I took. [...]

Ruburt, or Jane Butts , in this case was the emotional connection. The test itself involved however a particular photograph that was of Jane Butts at York Beach, and in which the Instreams did not appear. [...]

(Jane paused at 9:56. [...] When break finally did arrive Jane said Seth was going to give a break at this time but decided to go ahead because she was in a good state. Usually, Jane said, she reaches a better state as time passes.

[...] Jane believes her impression here is correct. [...] On Saturday, February 19, Jane and I met Marilyn and Don Wilbur and some others at Myhalyk’s for an evening of dancing. This was shortly after we had obtained the book on hands, and during the evening Jane asked the Wilburs if they would cooperate in having handprints made. [...]

(Prior to the session Jane and I had a discussion as to the exact profession of the person who had written the many notes on the manuscript of her ESP book. [...] I favored a parapsychologist, Jane a psychiatrist. [...]

[...] Jane spoke while sitting down and with her eyes closed, and once again her pace was slow; at times during this first delivery it was as slow as I can remember during any session. Jane was not smoking. [...]

[...] Paul O’Neill came after we’d finished lunch in 330, and took impressions of Jane’s lower gums for relining her denture—a soft denture, he explained, and Jane wouldn’t get it back before Friday. [...] Jane did well, and ate better than I thought she could. [...]

(In hydro this morning, Wednesday, the therapist looked Jane over as she had last week, examining her ulcers, and once again told Jane that she was coming along very well. [...]

[...] After resting in between some pretty good motions, Jane then began her best efforts of the day, with her head and shoulders going side-to-side. [...] “Jesus,” Jane said as she rested, “the room got a lot brighter that time.” [...]

[...] I turned Jane on her left side, and the move went well; she’s been doing the turning a good deal better. [...] When she brought it, it contained enough different kinds of food and soup so that Jane was able to eat her fill, though the omelet eluded her efforts to chew it. [...]

(Debbie Harris visited Jane last night. Jane didn’t feel well while Debbie was there. An aide took Jane’s temperature during the visit, and it was normal at 8:30. [...] But after breakfast this morning Jane’s temperature was down to 95.5. This was after she’d been given a pill to lower her temperature artificially. [...]

[...] Jane was ready to be turned early — most unusual. [...] Jeff didn’t want Jane to get dehydrated. He seemed generally satisfied, although he said Jane’s urine was “too concentrated.” [...]

(Jane threw up mucous at least three times during the night. [...] Jane had to yell for help. [...]

[...] Staff began coming in to check Jane’s vitals. [...] Jane’s blood pressure was normal, her temperature was 97, pulse good. [...]

(Next, Jane said she was trying to find a radio and recorder here at our hill house in Elmira so that Sue Watkins, who lives an hour’s drive to the north, could borrow it. [...] In this chassis Jane and Sue were going up and down and around beautiful, jewel-like green hills. [...] Then like a rising sun Jane saw her own enormous face looking down at it all — the jewel colors, Sue and herself, the vehicle.

(4:38 p.m. I was a bit surprised at the ending of the session at that point, I told Jane, because I’d been still waiting for Seth to answer the part of my question dealing with her being inside a recorder. Jane was surprised also — since she hadn’t heard me ask that part of the question. [...] I told Jane that obviously the recorder was a communication device of a kind, so the connection may lie there.

[...] I told Jane later that I need information about accepting gift money, via Maude Cardwell. I suspect such funds are taxable, so to legally avoid having much of any funds lost through heavy taxes, Jane and I need advice as to what to do. [...]

[...] After getting back and turning Jane and massaging her with Oil of Olay, she showed me how her right hand is still releasing the curled-up fingers, as begun yesterday. [...] Sleep well, Jane.)

(In the 104th session, Seth said that Jane would sell some of the short stories from the group she was working on at the time of the session. The two sales, including the one just published, are from this group; in addition Jane missed out on other sales from the group because various publishers wrote her that although they liked her material, they already had similar ideas in inventory. Jane has now begun work on another group of short stories. [...]

(Jane’s aunt, mentioned by Seth, lives in New York City. Jane has not seen her for some years, but keeps in touch via the aunt’s sister, Jane’s mother.)

(Jane has now settled all matters pertaining to her ESP book with her publisher. [...] Jane did receive a letter then from his secretary, but not a definitive one. [...]

(There follows a copy of my dream of Thursday night, October 21, as taken from my dream notebook: “I dreamed briefly that the first of the two short stories Jane has sold has now been published—The Big Freeze, I believe—and that as a result Jane can now get paid for it.” [...]