“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] The assistant mechanic told me there was something wrong with the filter cap and that it could not be tightened sufficiently to prevent an oil leak. His boss was busy and asked me to stop back later, after he’d had a chance to look at the car. [...]

(Making my feelings plain, I thought, without saying much actually, I left the garage and walked down to tell Jane, who by now had left the gallery and was waiting for me outside. [...] Jane immediately announced that the car would be ready when we went back for it, and asked me not to think about it while we went out for supper.

(This car incident discussed by Seth refers to one I had forgotten already, though at the time it affected me strongly; and as I look back upon it, I recall it was the main reason for my own experiment with the car’s oil consumption.

[...] Jane told me then that all through the meal, she had concentrated as hard as she could on the fact that the car would be fixed and waiting for us. [...]

Now give me a moment here.

[...] Do you follow me?

[...] Do you follow me here?

[...] Do you follow me?

[...] She lay dozing for a few minutes, then asked me what time it was. [...]

(Jane did not mention her experience to me then; upon rousing herself she forgot it, she said, until tonight when she had a similar experience. [...]

[...] You want me to talk about Denmark, that’s your trouble.

[...] I now know that he was being very patient, and somewhat amused, with me.)

[...] She woke up enough to ask me to light a cigarette for her. [...]

[...] She called me several times during the night to massage her legs and feet, reporting many strange sensations in them. [...]

[...] Suddenly Jane was out of trance and looking at me. [...]

[...] “Give me a light.... [...]

[...] Do you follow me here?

[...] Do you follow me?

—or ask me questions. [...]

[...] Do you follow me?

[...] “Part of me is exhausted and part wants to keep going forever.” [...]

[...] She had had an extensive workout, one that had touched responses deep within her, and that gave me great hope also. [...]

[...] At least some of the portraits reminded me of Rembrandt’s work, in the dream. [...]

[...] The dark-haired young man was trying to talk me into displaying some of my smaller paintings in the room in his funeral home where guests were seated for viewings, etc. [...]

Do you have a test for me, Joseph?

[...] I asked for a repetition of the word, whereupon Jane, her eyes still closed, pointed at me rather emphatically.)

[...] Jane’s slower and quiet manner had made me more aware of the storm and I had wondered whether it would bother her, but she said she had been aware of nothing while speaking.

My heartiest good wishes to you both, and unless you particularly wish me to continue I will end the session.

Ruburt has recently used the suggestion “Infinite intelligence leads me and guides me in all my ways.” [...]

[...] She told me she felt cushioned and supported, and my estimate was that she was undergoing an increase in circulation, along other things, and that it was all to the good. [...]

[...] At the risk of repeating myself you (to me) can no longer equivocate either (loudly). [...]

I am going to hit on some unpopular topics, so bear with me. [...]

[...] “That dozing off really worries me....” [...]

[...] “If it was me,” I said, and I probably shouldn’t have, “I couldn’t wait to get something on what’s going on, in the hope that it would help.” [...]

[...] Her eyes were quite dark when they finally opened to stare at me.)

[...] This frightened Jane, but she didn’t tell me until some hours later. [...]

[...] I know she was up at this time because she woke me getting back into bed, and told me the second cat had come home. [...]

I leave it to you, Joseph, to slow me down when you wish.

[...] Jane stared at me, her eyes now open steadily. [...]

Do you have an envelope for me?

[...] The empty envelope used as object was mailed to me last May 26,1966, by an old friend, Wendell Crowley, and contained a letter detailing a reunion of a group of friends, all artists, that Wendell and I worked with in 1941-43. The letter was not in the envelope but was kept separate by me for reference after the session. [...]

[...] Jane and I married in 1954, and so she has been strongly aware of studio connections with me, on a steady basis, since then, and has often heard me talk about earlier studios.

Do you have an envelope for me, Joseph?

(At 10:03, her eyes closed, Jane took the double sealed envelope from me for the 72nd envelope experiment. [...]

[...] You helped me understand some things, yet what I wrote still contains truth for me, too. [...]

[...] I had a much younger assistant who reminded me of Tom Lantini, an artist friend who had been a year behind me in Sayre High, our hometown school in Sayre, Pennsylvania. [...]

“Difficult to recall, and what I do recall makes no sense to me at all. [...] Instead, as Mary lifted the cover of the pad, holding the pad out for Jane and me to see, we saw that the top page was covered by a lovely large floral pattern of leaves and flowers, as one might see on bedsheets these days. [...]

(See my notes of July 17, 1980.¹ Seth continued to stare at me as he proceeded in the same manner:)

[...] When we were set up for the session, I placed a lighted candle on the shelf beside me, behind some books so that Jane could not see it. [...]

Now, do you have a test for me?

(Jane reached out to take the usual double envelope from me. [...]

[...] To sum up first, we saw that Seth had used the name of the artist who had executed the block print, Roy Fox, as a starting point for data involving Jane and Roy and me, but for some reason had not dealt with the test object itself. [...]

[...] On June 22 the pendulum told me that my stomach bothers me not because I don’t spend enough time painting, but because I feel guilty at spending the time I do, in view of all the other work with Jane that I feel I should be doing: working on sessions, “Unknown” Reality, etc.

[...] The child may think “My teeth are fine, why yell at me to brush them?” Ruburt thinks “What is there that allows you to speak your concern more actively than your love?” He is verbally oriented. [...] When I think that others take advantage of you in monetary terms—government, publisher, or public—it makes me wonder why. [...]

[...] I think that Seth’s expression for me of my feelings toward Jane were most accurate and penetrating—the kind of information one could spend months acquiring with the help of others, say. My own pendulum answers had steered me in the right direction, I saw, but were far short of being complete enough. [...]

(4. Any more on me, or my eyes?

[...] Since I was a part of that unknown, he could only trust me so far.

[...] He does trust me now. [...]

[...] Tell Ruburt he will not have to seek me out. [...]

[...] (He went on to say that the same power could be applied to plants as well, and that I had apparently used same in my previous existence as a gardening monk.) A plant cannot fight back, (and it would be good to practice on something whose subconscious could not give me trouble. [...]

([Tam:] “Like the ocean image spread out underneath me?”)

(Note: Later that week, I had a similar dream, but the cloth was folded underneath my thighs, bearing me along in a sitting position about six feet above the ground. [...]

(Seth looked at me almost pityingly. [...]

[...] This is an important point, and Ruburt would not have let me speak about it earlier. [...]

[...] There are other small rituals that can be avoided, and as they come to me I will give them to you. [...]

[...] Do you follow me?

Think instead, “This is a natural talent I have, and it is natural that it appeals to others, and as I have an abundance of talent, so shall it bring me abundance. It will help others, and it is natural that it help me.”

[...] Do you follow me?

[...] People owe it to me. [...]

[...] But neither of you took me to heart in practical terms. [...]

(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. [...]

[...] Dr. Instream also noted that on the evening of August 23,1965 he and his wife stopped overnight at York Beach, ME, while traveling. [...]

[...] But Jane told me not to worry, that the session was going to be a good one, that she felt Seth coming through well.

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

(Jane surprised me after I said most of what I had to say by adding that she thought our attitudes about children also had something to do with the symptoms —a connection that I could say had never occurred to me. It seemed like a strange idea to me, but I didn’t have time to think about it at the moment. [...]

[...] This surprised me. [She’d also thought of having a session before their arrival, so that Seth could continue the material he’d started Monday; she hadn’t told me this.]

[...] Eventually she called me, saying she would have the session. [...]

[...] Margaret Bumbalo told me she and her husband were going up to their cottage on the lake; they asked that I take in their mail.)