“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] She said she almost didn’t bother to tell me about it, that she wasn’t sure it was from Seth. [...]

[...] This is a little instance in which Ruburt did not block me. [...]

[...] Her sudden change in direction had distracted me. [...]

(By now I was completely puzzled; and Jane, evidently not wanting to speak on her own yet, looked at me and shrugged. [...]

[...] The idea was that my belief in an extraordinary or supernatural force, working through nature, sustained me as a child. [...] Then, discovering that he was, after all, fallible, I felt betrayed; and worse I felt for some periods that he rejected me. [...] But I no longer felt as I did as a child, that the universe was well-intended or cared for me particularly; and looking about the world saw personal threats. [...]

[...] Now give me a moment. [...]

[...] Do you follow me?

[...] She said she felt “something” go out to me from her body while Seth paused during his delivery... [...]

(“Years ago in the 1960’s,” Jane said, “I thought I loved you a lot more than you loved me, and that you could get along very well all by yourself.” [...] I knew things bugged me — working, being an artist, or trying to, and so forth — but not anything to do with her. [...]

[...] She had a couple of thoughts as she listened to me. [...] Two: She’d tried to be more like me — cooler, not expressing so many emotions, more in control. [...]

(She’d even thought I disapproved of her way of dress at times, whereas, if memory serves me correctly, I’d almost always liked the way she dressed, fixed her hair, and so on. [...]

[...] Jane had also said today that she’d felt that she had to be careful how she approached me so I wouldn’t get mad and leave her. [...]

[...] Do not be frightened of me. [...]

[...] However, you would not recognize me now, though I do indeed remember you. [...]

[...] And you may tell Ruburt for me, Joseph (smile), that I thank him ... [...]

[...] that he has welcomed me. [...]

[...] She told me that at various times Seth was around during the evening while we waited, but never did come through.

[...] Now give me a moment, (pause), and a long moment. [...]

[...] Give me a moment. [...]

[...] Once the experience of the illness had been gained, it seemed to me, it made better sense for the inner self to terminate the particular experience and move on to others. [...]

[...] She asked me if she could share my studio with me and of course I agreed, having offered this arrangement some time ago. [...]

Well, I certainly would not want Ruburt throwing furniture at me. [...] When Ruburt’s resentment finally flares, that is no time for me to be around.

(This made me wonder whether I too would be able to develop this particular sense. If so, it would give me rudimentary glimpses into two of the inner senses, since I have already had some small degree of success in feeling sound.)

(“Nor me either.”)

[...] My own fears left me seeing visions of a drastically changed relationship between us, and a different life-style, one probably considerably less private if she needed nursing care, say, “What are you trying to do to me?” I demanded, and so forth. “Please don’t holler at me now,” Jane said. [...]

[...] The family of raccoons in the fireplace behind me had been quite active and sometimes noisy during the session. [...] I said it gave me a surge of hope, and that I hoped it would affect her the same way when I read it to her this evening, which I now proceeded to do. [...]

(After last night’s session I was so upset I couldn’t talk about it, nor did Jane ask me anything about the contents of the session. [...]

[...] She wants me to get the table for her each day now until she is able to walk with it in the old way. [...]

[...] Even though Jane told me she felt Seth around at 9 PM. At 9:20, she told me about the “shuddering” feeling she’d experienced in her chest in Rochester, after I had first mentioned the above question to her. [...]

(While taking a drive to the drugstore on Sunday, my brother Dick told me he felt he “didn’t have much” as far as money was concerned. [...] To Jane and me, he is very well off indeed.)

[...] My mother, who now lives with Dick and his wife and family, made the trip back with Jane and me as far as the parking lot at Enfield Glen, Ithaca, where we met my other brother, Loren. [...]

[...] He was disappointed in me, also, thinking that I should have been able to save the woman. [...]

[...] That is important to you, not to me, and not to anyone else in the room, but it is highly important to you. You all have more than one secret and there will be plenty of time for the rest of them and then you can dance through the grasses and I will lead you with a merry flute, indeed; and then you will not need me to lead you with a merry flute, for you will hear your own music and be able to follow it. [...]

[...] It ill behooves me to have to tell you that it takes someone as long dead as I have been to tell you how to become truly alive. [...]

I get the feelings, though the words escaped me, and to the feelings I agree. [...]

[...] There is one certain way to avoid detection by others and it is to appear so open that it will not occur to them that there is anything you are hiding, but you do not fool me. [...]

(See the report by Jane and me at the end of the last session. [...] The plans are simple; at session times next week Bill and Peggy will attempt to concentrate on Jane, Seth and me, with a view to seeing what Seth can pick up.

[...] You will simply at your leisure hand me a test when you have one for me, at any time in the session. [...]

Do you have a test for me?

(The material on a dog reminded me that the Bristol stiffeners I enclosed tonight’s test paper in were the same two in which I had enclosed the test photo for the 11th envelope test, in the 194th session. [...]

(I am not an expert on Spanish art, but the above passage reminds me of Velazquez for some reason. [...]

[...] Do you follow me here?

[...] One of the attractions for others in that painting of me is that it automatically suggests an unseen audience, to whom I appear to be speaking. [...]

[...] I asked finally: “Why don’t you open your eyes?” But Jane did not do so, and gestured to me to wait. [...]

[...] At first she didn’t want to tell me what he’d said until after lunch, but I persuaded her to tell all. [...]

[...] I told her at the end of the day that the Seth material is an excellent example of her own direct cognition; this obvious description had come to me after I worked with Seth’s material on direct cognition in Chapter 6 of Dreams. [...]

(It was so late when I finished reading Chapter 6 to her that Jane wasn’t planning on a session today, until I told her it was okay with me.)

(Jane had received this title yesterday, and told me.)

[...] She didn’t tell me this or show it to me until I had wheeled her back to the card table. [...]

[...] At her request I began massaging her back the way Hal had showed me, from the top of her head to the coccyx. [...]

(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. [...]

[...] Do you follow me?

That is why you asked me tonight.

—rather than being simply told by me. [...]

Now we will end the session but I will have more to say as you ask me.

Ray Van Over has scarcely met me. [...] The impressions which were given by me through Ruburt, in Ruburt’s (Jane’s) own voice, were correct, however, and I believe he will attest to this.

[...] Since matters pertaining to me are at issue here, then I feel I would like to make a few comments of my own, and take it upon myself to answer your last letter, sent to Jane Roberts.

Dr. Gene Bernard has received some excellent material from me, both in the realm of psychological interpretation, and clairvoyant impressions. [...]

[...] (To me:) This will be an exceedingly brief session. [...]

[...] You are not free when you say: “The idea works for everyone but me—but my symptoms are caused by something else—and when I am violent, different rules apply. Everyone else forms their own physical reality but not me—my reality is caused by heredity or environment. [...]

[...] You cannot afford to come here and see me as a fine old fellow either. For these characteristics by which you know me are but one portion of my personality and my reality. [...]

[...] And again I will tell you: the energy that is behind and within me now, that energy is available to all of you and it resides within the selves of which you are composed. [...]

[...] It seems very different from me. [...]

[...] Each time I think of beginning MAGICAL APPROACH I feel this reluctance; I’m not sure what bugs me, the copying of records, putting together the days events or what—but i want more of the fun and magic of it for myself, and less hard work. I’d planned a consecutive story line book including some of robs dreams with interpretations yet feel strain there now, showing how this detail or that one fits the picture, this noon it came to me that the approach seemed to rational at this time; i wanted one that was lighter in tone, quicker yet more expansiveso if anything the books technique would be magical itself…. [...] a possibility came to me of a part 1 consisting of the original abridged sessions one after the other with robs notes included but nothing of mine at all. [...]

[...] I wondered whether a part of her might be viewing her childhood in order to remind her of that mobile heritage, to help her regenerate it in the present.⁵ “see myself jumproping [again]… but the places themselves seem more significant to me [today] rather than people,” she wrote. [...] vague ideas that when I was around five an older man died in the neighboring house where I’d played on the porch and that someone took me to see the body—my first such experience…. [...]

“Ruburt does not owe me anything. [...] He does not owe me a sense of commitment. [...]

[...] By the time I wrote the opening notes for Session 886 in Chapter 2, three months later, Jane had decided the book would contain “some of the poetry she has dedicated to me over the years since we met in February 1954.” [...] Rather immodestly, I present below the first verse of a love poem Jane wrote for me on November 5, 1965. [...]

[...] She sat on the divan, her legs drawn up beneath her, across the coffee table from me. [...] She stared at me. [...]

[...] I also saw full-face heads, usually in sections, as half a face, etc., coming closer to me, usually with the lips moving soundlessly. As I saw the first head my sensation swept over me quite strongly, and continued for some little while.

[...] It then struck me this evening that the discussion between Jane, Bill and I, over Jane’s new work, bore some rather remarkable parallels to that opening dream sequence, and I wondered whether that portion of the dream could have been clairvoyant. [...]

[...] Without you Ruburt would not let me come through. [...]

[...] You had better let me continue with the information while it flows... [...] Do you follow me?

[...] Do you follow me?

When you want a break interrupt me. [...]

[...] This is not diversion such as television, you follow me.