“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

me alone.

(At 4:26, after we’d been talking about various subjects like politics, which Jane enjoyed, she told me to turn down the TV. [...]

(As I was doing mail today she said she’d put off having sessions lately because she’d picked up from me that I wanted the time off to catch up on other things. [...]

[...] “And he’s got even more, but it’s getting late and the supper tray will be here and you have to turn me and stuff …” I could tell she was able to continue. [...]

[...] Jeff Karder has her on another vitamin supplement — a pungent colorless liquid that to me smells like orange peel. [...]

(The next morning Jane told me that once again she’d done “a lot of book dictation” after she went to bed. [...]

1. Seth’s material here about dream solutions reminded me of a few lines just about all that were saved — from a poem Jane wrote when she was 17 years old:

Within me, mute.

[...] I massaged under her left knee when she asked me to, almost at once, and was pleased to see the motion in her leg, and head and shoulders, return once again. [...]

[...] I said I hope they continue, that I want her home with me. [...]

[...] This upset me, yet Jane didn’t feel bad about it, and I curbed my disappointment.

(That event, as well as the launching of the shuttle Sunday morning, had been very emotional doings for me, somewhat to my surprise. “But what makes me so furious,” I said to Jane Sunday, “is that the species has the ability to accomplish something like that, but then makes such a mess of things back home on the planet. [...]

[...] She now amazed me by saying that she now thought she understood that if she turned her focus away from her symptoms toward Prentice, say, or any other “outside” entity or situation, that she could improve physically by giving her body the freedom to do so. [...]

(I kept trying to verbalize a thought that had come to me after supper tonight, but couldn’t get it out. [...]

(“These must be hard for me to give, or something,” Jane said at 9:40, “or I wouldn’t be still sitting here waiting....” [...]

Now you are all getting it this evening, but it is long due—and it is for this reason that our friend Ruburt did not welcome me with open arms at your last class, for he knew what I was up to. It does you no good for me to come here and give you a symbolic pat on the back, and say, “My chickadees, fly away—you are doing well!”—not when you are not doing well. [...]

[...] Therefore, I will not allow you, you see, to use me as a crutch. [...]

[...] For the sun falls upon the stone, and the stone does not say, “Lo and behold, I am a simple stone and not worthy for the sun to fall upon me.” [...]

[...] Why did you not tell me?” Well, I am telling you now—and I will say I told you so. [...]

[...] This feeling came upon me right after I had asked my subconscious to give me some idea of what had happened during the tape recording, when the voice I used seemed to belong more to Father Trainor than to me.

[...] At break she told me that as she spoke the word dense, and during the pause, she had a rather strong mental image of a field of points of light. [...]

[...] Our present procedure is working out very well, and it is enabling me to discuss matters that were too complicated for our earlier method. [...]

[...] The book involving me.

Now for Philip: Some impressions, if you will give me a moment, please. [...]

([John:] “Do you want me to answer that now?"

([John:] “The man in loose clothes—can you tell me is this the son, president of the company or his father, the chairman of the board. [...]

[...] I need you to understand the faulty quality in your own logic, and that must come from yourself and not from me. [...]

(To Ron) I egg—listen to me—I egg you on. [...]

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

[...] It was only later that I wondered how such a God would choose me for such a position and then I began to wonder. [...]

[...] And yet, you see, it was easier for him to make contact for me in the beginning than it was for me to do it myself. [...]

Her clothes were hand-me-downs from the daughter of the family, and since the maid was quite a few years younger than the daughter the clothes fit her poorly. [...]

I will give a brief sample, if you do not mind me using your own present family.

(And watch me put my unthinking foot in it this time. [...]

When I speak through Ruburt I must disentangle the concept from the patterns, which 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.

(Jane had hypnotized me twice recently. The sessions had been very beneficial, giving me several days of freedom from pain after each session.)

[...] And if I seem less humorous this evening it is only because sometimes it’s so difficult to get anything through your heads, even though you help me push.

[...] I had the typewritten description on the table before me. [...]

[...] You are not “hearing me out”. As you behave with me, you behave with your husband and. [...] You are not listening to me so much as thinking of your next question and what you want to say.

Can you hear me?

[...] Do you follow me?

[...] The very few times early in our marriage when I would lose my temper, he would absolutely infuriate me by saying softly, with a smirk, “Temper, temper!” and so I would clam up.)

[...] Likewise Ruburt feels me but is not me. [...]

(I wonder: Watching the tree, did my inner senses tell me the limb would fall—information that I casually disregarded? [...]

[...] Obviously, I exist whether he recognizes me or not. [...]

It is even difficult for me to answer that, since you are partly on the track and partly way off. [...]

[...] And to me: “Sometimes I think that you, whenever you get any idea that doesn’t have to do with painting, ought to stamp it out with both feet, and just stick to that. [...] I admitted that the thought had occurred to me—that indeed I’d been thinking about it a lot since I’d had my physical hassles starting early last month.

[...] A point: I told you that the sessions must be fun—that is, creative, exploratory, and as free as possible – and, I add, not only for you but for me as well. [...]

(My own pendulum sessions lately have told me that I was feeling my own guilt because I thought I should have helped her more in the past. [...] This is an accomplishment for me, and one I must continue to explore. [...]

[...] The room had turned a little chilly, and Jane had asked me to turn off the fan.)

(Even now, I was sure that yesterday’s session had helped me moderate my own reactions to the latest events—and that was good, I told Jane. [...]

(I took the lunch tray out to the cart after Jane was finished, and met Marilyn Sullivan, who introduced herself to me. [...]

[...] As I did so she showed me a new motion with her right arm: now she could lift it higher from the shoulder as she lay on her back, and then reach farther across her body and up toward her left shoulder—something she hasn’t been able to do before today. [...]

[...] It took me only a few seconds to come out of trance. [...] Because the heat didn’t bother Seth, (or me speaking for him) at all. [...]

[...] She remembered me at once. [...]

(At noontime that Friday, then, Jane told me that she was going into another altered or enhanced state of consciousness. [...] Even though her state of awareness was still growing, Jane decided that she wanted to ride downtown with me after we’d finished eating; I planned to pick up one of our typewriters at a repair shop, then buy some groceries. [...]

“Then, between one moment and the next, the world literally changed for me. [...]

[...] I told you that the physical body itself was able to pick up other neurological messages beside those to which you usually react.⁸ Now let me add that when a certain proficiency is reached in alterations of consciousness, this allows you to become practically familiar with some of these other neurological messages. [...]

He has been working with me for some time, in your terms, yet I do not “control” his subjective reality in any way. [...]

[...] this all continues; I feel a twinge of guilt—Rob’s typing reminds me that I was to do my three hours—but this IS writing; cataloging body-mood changes; I want to sketch the men working—eyes, sinuses, ears and neck strongly “working.” [...]

A.M. Read S. Sessions on me.

[...] (Seth’s entity name for me.)

For now you may take a break, and before long you will give me a gold star.

([John:] “Do you want me to ask that?"

You may then end the session, unless our county commissioner would like to cross-examine me.