“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

April 12 have a “dream” that a man is talking to me about Mass Events primarily, saying that he’s seen a copy and there is nothing about the disclaimer to anger me, that it’s ok, and then mentioning God of Jane. There was stuff I’ve also forgotten though that made me waken at once, furious; some connection between the two books, also whole bunches of feelings rise to my mind about the disclaimer being like a sign or statement that I’m a liar or that my work isn’t truthful or like, hell, the letter A for adulteress they used to pin on wicked women.... [...]

(I went over to the Infirmary’s office with them after the meeting to get a bunch of papers Kim wanted to give me, because doing it this way would save me an extra trip sometime later. [...] She gave me a lot of figures I only partially understood. She also asked me about Jane’s assets. [...]

[...] She also explained something to me about indigence—how, after a certain period of time Jane and I would be considered separate people so that she could qualify Medicaid payments, I believe—and that, even if they got after me to make up those payments, I could refuse to do so. [...]

(Kim told me Jane is second on the list for admission to the facility now. [...]

(“It’s me,” Jane said. [...]

(When I seemed exasperated when Jane asked me to do something for her, and dropped my notebook on the bed, she at once felt a strong fear that she’d exasperate me beyond bearing — that she couldn’t afford to get me mad at her. [...]

(Jane called me last night with Elisabeth’s help. Elisabeth, our German friend, left a lemon cake for me and had brought Jane an Easter basket.

[...] It worked well, and came about spontaneously when I dropped my notebook on the bed when Jane asked me to get her water. I was tired and somewhat exasperated, and she picked this up from me immediately. [...]

[...] I explained my position that she didn’t need to make bargains with herself, as she used to tell me she did — that it was perfectly okay to be healthy and talented at the same time, using one’s abilities as one chose. [...]

[...] Jane had a cigarette: She said she’d meant to tell me today: For the first time in a very long while, she had pain in the first knuckle of her forefinger on her left hand—and the finger is starting to bend at that knuckle. I saw it bend a little after she told me. [...]

(Jane told me that this morning in hydro her right leg “opened up quite a bit” as she lay on the litter. [...]

[...] 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. [...]

As for another advancement you have made, beside dispensing with the material board—and this advancement has to do with the so-called flashes that Ruburt has received between sessions—he has achieved a state in which he can receive inner data from me more readily. But beyond this he is now able in some small way to contact me. That is, I have contacted you in the past, and now you are gaining the ability to contact me, and this is a step forward on your part.

(Here Jane broke off her delivery to say to me, “My hands feel fatter than the devil.” [...] Yet the revelation of Seth’s involvement with me produced such a startling and rapid phenomena on Jane’s part that she wanted to let me know when it happened. [...]

It was in the way and he kept waiting for the exact most favorable moment to dispense with it and speak for me, so that he actually became anxious. [...] It has sentimental value, and for me.

[...] But at 8:55 Jane surprised me by beginning to dictate. [...]

The image in the doorway is indeed my own, though there is bound to be a distortion in Mark’s perception of me. It is through the inner senses that he perceives me, and this data he then attempts to transform into information that can be perceived by the outer senses.

[...] When I said that Mark would join me in a demonstration, I meant that Mark would join me in a demonstration.

There is no good reason why you could not see me also, Joseph, nor is there any reason why Ruburt could not see me. [...]

I would also suggest before the session ends that you ask Mark once more what he saw, for the record, as well as including the excellent representation of me in the record. [...] I can do best along this line in the presence of particular individuals who cooperate with me in the effort.

“If you don’t let me in your house I’ll just die,” Fred said. By now he’d taken two hardcover books from a bag, and given them to me. [...] In one he’d written a note on a blank page to Jane, and to me in the other. [...] Fred also handed me a thick, neatly tied package of brown paper and yellow string—The Christ Book, he said, which was for Jane and me, and for Prentice-Hall. [...]

[...] I didn’t realize that when Fred’s Seth told me Fred was getting cold, he really meant it. [...]

[...] The stewardess at Denver let me on the plane when I explained to her that I had to meet you—”

[...] Show this book to Jane and have her read it while I wait here, then you tell me, Robert, what she thinks of it....” [...]

(I was glad to hear this, and had been wondering whether Seth would give me this suggestion without my asking. He had done likewise in the unscheduled 184th session last Friday, and the suggestion had worked well for me. [...]

[...] The window was closed, for my hay fever bothered me most of the day. [...]

(My hay fever bothered me enough so that I made some noise using a tissue. [...]

[...] She looked at me then closed them again.)

[...] 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. [...]

(Jane saw me bent over with my right hand moving, either writing or drawing. [...] She did not say from what angle or position she saw me, and I neglected to ask her.

[...] (To me:) Generally, your attitude is that you want your own subconscious relatively clear. [...]

(To me:) Your own creativity has also had a psychic basis, and often you have translated such information into your paintings without ever having been aware you have done so. [...]

One aside here: while I am myself as you know me, I am also the other personality that sometimes speaks. This does not mean that what I am as you know me, ends, or is finished, in what he is.

(None of the above data, outside of the familiarity with the name Alice, meant anything to me. [...]

Give me a moment. [...]

[...] (Pause.) The other personality (smile), which is also myself, has a warm spot in its heart for me (stronger, forceful voice), though again, he would not put it in those terms. [...]

I had the feeling of something very heavy hanging over me. Was this to be translated into an object like, say, a heavy roof over my head, or to an emotional feeling that “hung over me”? [...] Seth threw me another: “Something bright and small also, beneath this overhanging or threatening portion.” [...]

[...] “From the torn section, then, to me the whole [page] was present, and from portions of the whole, the whole can be read. With enough freedom on the one hand, and training on the other, Ruburt, speaking for me, could give you the entire copy of The New York Times from a torn corner.

[...] At 10 P.M. he gave impressions for Dr. Instream, and after that Rob gave me an envelope if there was to be such a test that evening. [...]

[...] Now I wonder that Seth was able to do anything with me at all in those days, but most of the time he managed to do very well indeed.

[...] It occurs to me once more that I am speaking too swiftly for our notetakers, and I will once again endeavor to slow down. As far, incidentally, as automatic speech is concerned, let me say that there is nothing compulsive in Ruburt’s speaking. He allows me to speak indeed. I have his politeness to thank that he does not interrupt me, but his speaking is not compulsive in that he is so driven.

[...] We have indeed a rather delightful dilemma; and yet, is this not what you require of me? [...] Nevertheless the situation in which you put me is exactly like the situation which I have only now described.

Therefore it is also highly difficult for me to prove my own existence to you, for you are not focused within my field of attention. [...] You, at this point in our acquaintanceship, have little to lose by being so kind to me, and so permissive and sympathetic in your attitude. [...]

[...] But I will see if I cannot bring you around; and if you will forgive me my dear doctor, this humility of yours is indeed overdone. [...] If you will forgive me, for I am speaking to you as one old crony to another, you are too sly to stand up straight and say who you are, and what you are, and accept the responsibility for your own abilities. [...]

(For what it’s worth: Jane told me that Teresa [“help me, help me, help me,”] was much better now because someone had figured out that she was being given too much medication. [...]

[...] She told me that she’d had to counter negative suggestions given to her in hydro this morning by both Lottie and Georgia, relative to new bedsores breaking out beside the sits of old ones—in other words, she was always to have bedsores. [...]

[...] “It’s easy enough for me to say,” I said. [...]

It would be difficult for me to change the features of a third individual indeed, but far less difficult to change Ruburt’s features, since he gives me permission to work through him, and his mental and psychic abilities would help me. A picture would not help me on its own.

(Jane faced me while speaking this last phrase, her eyes still closed, and in good humor.)

[...] I soon saw that I shouldn’t have however, since Jane now turned the same humorous expression toward me that had confronted Bill a few minutes ago.)

[...] This of course caused me to miss out on a few words of her verbal account, so I took the chance and asked her to repeat her description. [...]

“I am free to stand or kneel, to run expectantly forward, for there is nothing ahead of me that I need fear, and the way ahead of me is clear and open. [...]

[...] Do you follow me?

[...] You (pointing to me) wanted to feel aloof, and I tell you, superior. [...]

[...] There was also a feeling, “Since you do not buy my paintings, do not hand me your junk.” [...]

Because Ruburt deals in words [as a writer], it is easy for me to communicate in this manner. That is, he automatically translates inner data given by me into coherent, valid, and faithful camouflage⁵ patterns — into words. [...]

[...] This sometimes leaves me with short ends, because it is natural for me to experience the concepts in their entirety; and yet I must drop very important data by the wayside because you are not capable of handling it, except in consecutive form. [...]

As for another advancement made, besides dispensing with the material [Ouija] board, Ruburt has achieved a state in which he can receive inner data from me more readily. But beyond this, he is now able in some small way to contact me….

[...] Ruburt’s mind, believe it or not, is much like my own — though, if you’ll forgive me, in a very limited fashion. [...] I was drawn by this to realize that he was ready for me.

(This dream stayed with me the whole day, so strong was its impact upon me. [...] Yesterday Frank had told me that it wouldn’t be as easy to see Jean now that it was a 15-hour drive instead of just running down to Washington DC.

[...] Then Del left me for some reason, and alone I tried to continue — but wound up clinging motionless to a very steep slope lest I slide way down into a deep ravine that would be very difficult to get out of. [...]

[...] I also knew she felt the same way about me. [...]

[...] “I don’t know why,” she said, “but as you read that I got the feeling that my father is looking out for me …” I said that was certainly implied in the session, and that I’d wondered about it as Seth spoke. [...]

[...] After trying to stuff it into jacket pockets during the service, I finally ended up carrying it out with me quite openly. Nobody challenged me, asking for its return. [...]

[...] Patty called me at noon and said Jane wanted me to come to 330 early if I could. [...]

[...] Jane was better, surprised to see me, trying to decide whether to go to hydro [she didn’t].

[...] John Bumbalo had made arrangements for someone to give me a ride back to the hospital, where my car was. [...]

And this is also an example of an instance where Ruburt would have blocked me, but this time he did not. [...] He almost blocked me, changing this to the more ordinary good evening. But as you both can see I had my reason and Ruburt gave me the chance.

Though you amuse me when you try to egg me on. [...]

[...] However it does not serve any good purpose for me to knock Ruburt’s knuckles when an error of this kind is made. [...]

[...] There is too much involved in this for me to explain much of it to you at this time.

[...] Don’t be afraid of change, for you are change, and you change as you sit before me. [...] As Seth you know me as an old man, but I have been a young woman. [...]

[...] There are certain rules that my friend Ruburt places upon me, one that I hold my voice under control, and so I will endeavor to do so. [...]

Though you cannot find me, you know that I am here. [...]

[...] You cannot touch me and yet you know I am here in the room... [...]