“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(I’m sure that Jane tires of hearing me periodically rehash views that the species has engaged in at least three major wars in a little more than half a century, plus a number of “smaller” ones. [...] I said more in a similar vein, while all the time a basic part of me knew that I was oversimplifying the human condition by far.

[...] Before the session we’d read a couple of book reviews that also helped set me off now. [...]

(To me:) Since your birth a probability has occurred that you could have followed, in which your wars did not happen. [...]

[...] (To me:) You are personally inhibiting your dream recall because you do not want to take the time to remember and interpret the dreams. [...]

[...] People who read so-called “occult” literature may consider me “an old soul,” like a mountain. [...] I do not feel invaded by the selves or identities that compose me, nor do they feel invaded by me — any more than the trees, rocks, and grass would resent the mountain shape (intently) into which they have grown.

[...] That episode had upset me to some degree, but Jane’s discussion of the subject in Politics, plus a few comments Seth made in ESP class last night, helped me put the affair in a more objective light.

[...] Nor did they in relation to me, of course. [...]

[...] For that matter (amused), if you will forgive me for that old pun, the atoms and molecules that form the table today did not have anything to do with the table five years ago — though the table appeared the same then as now.

[...] Handing her the two envelopes and the two pieces of Bristol, I had asked her to pick a test object, seal it up, and give it to me the next time we saw her, without telling me what the test object was. [...]

(Lorraine handed me her envelope while Jane was out of the room; thus Jane did not see it before the test. [...] Lorraine did not tell me the contents of her envelope. [...]

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

Now do you have a test for me, Joseph?

PM: right side bothers me PM; leg, knee, and during night my right eye bothers me too. [...]

(This afternoon while painting the thought came to me that Jane’s trouble was that she was avoiding success; and success was looming ever closer with the advertising campaign planned for her ESP book, the near-completion of the dream book, etc. In the 350th Session for July 6, 1967, is a sentence which has stayed with me— when Seth said: “Ruburt has an unfortunate sense of unworthiness, without which the situation [Jane’s symptoms] could not have developed.” [...]

[...] His needs and personality were the reason, however, that he could communicate with me. He would never have communicated with, say, any female counterpart of me. [...]

[...] This session appears to be basic, but perhaps parts pertaining to me were blocked, to spare my feelings? [...]

I was enough like his Father Traynor to be safe, and without me his psychic abilities would not have matured at all. [...]

[...] Then when Debbie Janney arrived Saturday evening, she told me that she had just missed meeting me at Steiner’s photo studio earlier that week; going there to have a portrait taken, she’d seen by accident the enlargements of my parents that Mr. Steiner was making for me. I was due to pick them up the next day, and she asked Mr. S. to tell me she’d been there, but he forgot to mention it. [...]

(Jane was quite relaxed as she told me she wanted a session at about 8 PM. [...]

[...] Don’t come crying to me then, for I will say I told you so. [...]

[...] Far be it from me to monopolize the conversation, but I expect you all to work and the work can be joyful as many of you know. [...]

[...] You may call me your friendly, corner stockbroker. [...]

(To Florence.) I have another point to make to our Lady of Florence though not the point that you particularly want me to make. [...]

(This session, for Wednesday, May 6, 1970, is deleted from the record, since it is a personal one for Jane and me.)

[...] Do you follow me?

[...] Do you follow me here?

[...] (Pause.) Now give me a moment.

(Steve and Tracy Blumenthal visited Jane at the hospital last night and me at the house afterward. [...]

[...] Jane couldn’t stand for me to rub her left leg after I turned her, because of the strong “pins and needles” feelings the massaging generates in the leg. [...]

[...] At 3:35 Jane told me to get my paper and pen ready in case Seth came through.)

[...] Jane’s voice could be attributed to her obviously dictating something to me, which everybody around knew she did each day. [...]

([Valerie:] “But later when it spoke to me it didn’t seem to be speaking like that.”)

[...] At one time, bear with me, (long pause) there was what we may call a federation of consciousness, though that is not the best term. [...]

[...] And if you give me a moment we will begin with one and you will always be told ahead of time if the song applies to you. [...]

It is indeed, but I never was able to do so and at one time when I was pope I used to try very hard, and it always sounded terrible and even the altar boys drowned me out. [...]

“Yesterday while checking the page proofs for Mass Events I got the feeling that that book really bothered me, served as a focal point. [...] The fact had escaped me earlier that Mass Events represented Seth’s and my direct attack on official dictums—or so it seemed to me. [...]

5. For that matter, I’ve often told my wife that it would be all right with me if she decided to give up the sessions entirely—for good—period. [...] More than once I’ve asked her if she keeps the sessions going just for me. Jane comes first with me—not the sessions, or anything else she might do. [...]

[...] Since Jane couldn’t leave the house by herself, let alone go holiday shopping, she had a close friend buy the Christmas presents she had in mind for me. My wife did her own wrapping, though, working at it in her writing room after warning me to stay away until she was through. [...]

Within a few days, after I’d taken certain measurements from Jane while she was sitting down, our friend Floyd Waterman [who is a contractor] helped me cut down an old-fashioned straight chair and equip it with small wheels. [...] Jane could easily hoist herself onto it from her office chair, the couch, or the bed; she could either move on it around the house by herself, or have me push her. [...]

[...] I worked until almost 9 PM transcribing notes from Monday’s taped session, then upon reconsidering told Jane it was okay with me if she wanted a session. [...]

[...] It is natural that Ruburt was startled when he heard the way he sounds when he allows me to speak.

[...] It allows you some freedom, and it allows me the opportunity to speak with you in a more normal manner.

(“My side bothers me considerably as I write this, at 8:30 PM. [...] [They amount to much less than I’d figured on, incidentally—including estimated payments for 1979 —so one would expect me to respond to that—but I haven’t yet.

(Here’s a copy of the paper I wrote on April 15, following the material Seth gave for me in the deleted portion of the session, the 847th, for April 9:

[...] Pendulum tells me the side bothers because I’m not working on Mass Reality, which will get us money, whereas Through My Eyes is a less-certain project, would take longer, and the time I spend on it is time lost on Mass Reality. [...]

(“The pendulum says my side started to bother me after I estimated $70,000 income for tax purposes for 1979, without seeing how Jane and I have any chance yet to bring in that much this year.” [...]

(After supper I asked Jane if she’d hold a private session for me, since I felt so bad. [...] “Thank God for relaxation,” I told myself again and again as I fell asleep, hoping the effects would rejuvenate me. [...]

(During last week Jane told me she’d picked up that my troubles had been set off by the death of Bill Crowder on October 2. Betts didn’t write us about the death until we received her letter of the 25th on the 26th—which date being the day before I became ill. [...] I hadn’t thought his death could bother me that much, for certainly I hadn’t dwelled upon it consciously at all.

[...] The urinary problem still plagued me no end, and tonight the pressure was heavy; hence, I gave in and asked Jane for help. [...]

(The little I’ve worked with the pendulum tells me my troubles are rooted in money attitudes, as well as the production time I’ve lost on Mass Events for the last two weeks and more. [...]

([Brad:] “I have followed what you have said to a great extent, but right now I am letting my emotions rule me to a great extent because all the logic in the world hasn’t done me a bit of good. [...]

[...] Now, the trouble with you is you did not bring me my brandy. [...]

[...] Do you follow me? [...]

Give me a moment. [...]

Now you are getting a lot of goodies out of me tonight. Now I am going to end our session and go home, you are all too spooky for me. [...]

([Florence:] “Can you tell me who was trying to hypnotize me?”)

[...] Do you follow me? [...]

[...] And if you will excuse me, in so doing you are taking on the guise of the devil. [...]

[...] She began some writing about me today, stressing my characteristics as I confront the world with a distance between the two. [...] It’s far from finished, but she finally let me see what she had after supper. [...] She also mentioned trying hypnosis with me, since I’m a good subject. [...]

[...] My side had bothered me all day today in the same old fashion. Although I’d felt slightly better yesterday I’d been taking baking soda often for my stomach for several days, and it seemed now that the feeling of pressure, or gas, perhaps, was getting the best of me. [...]

(The pendulum gave me the same reasons for my overall malaise, as well as agreeing with the fresh insights noted below. [...] At the same time I swore off baking soda, which is an old habit with me, in favor of Maalox, which I found in the cupboard. [...]

(Pat Norelli, Claire Crittenden, and Carl Watkins ate supper with Jane and me the next night, Saturday, Nov. [...]

[...] As a rule, (underlined) I leave these practical lessons to others, for the mental considerations have always intrigued me more. [...]

[...] Because of his background with his mother he had built up in defense a strong dislike, not merely for illness, for this (Jane, eyes open wide, pointed at me for emphasis), is beneficial, but a strong dislike (pause) that amounted almost (underlined) to hatred, for anyone who was sick, particularly crippled in any way, or hampered in motion.

[...] Do not mistake me. [...]

[...] I thought back to all of those unremembered trance hours, looking at them from a different standpoint — and almost startled by a simple thought that just hadn’t occurred to me in quite that way before: Those trance hours were productive. [...] And I wondered: What must I look like to Rob as I leaned forward as Seth, smiling, (my glasses off, Seth’s eyes darker than mine), joking as Seth, gesturing, waiting while Rob got me (Jane), a beer? [...]

As most of our readers know, Seth began calling me Ruburt, and my husband, Rob, Joseph, early in the sessions. He explained that these were our entity names, and I was half amused to have a male one, and to find Seth referring to me as “he” or “him.” [...]

[...] Only the session notes taken by my husband, Robert Butts, tell me what particular daily events we were engaged in during the time of the book’s production. [...]

[...] My continuing experiences, however, show me that Seth’s personality is stamped upon the sessions and his writings, and perhaps also upon my own consciousness, in unique ways.

[...] They included a projection through the eastern wall of our living room, and a “visitor” who returned with her; the Latin title of a book; her awareness of a third eye; some material, with diagrams, of me as a monk who wrote manuscripts in an underground chamber that he later sealed; a vision of Seth in a brown robe, looking as I’ve painted him—but the brown robe was “too easy,” Jane said suspiciously. [...]

(She wrote down the “Latin” book title as best she could: Enada Inaventum [Deus ?].The E could possibly be either an I or an A. Then at 10:10 she told me the translation of the title would be Spiritual Adventures. [...]

[...] “And whoever came back with me from my projection is standing over there—” and she pointed to our front door. [...]

[...] Was the monk Nebene—me when I was a very strict teacher of the children of rich Romans in first-century A.D. Italy? [...]