“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(She ate a rather skimpy lunch. At 2:59, as we talked, she began to speak about being scared and panicky again. Half crying and moaning in no time, arms and hands moving from where I’d propped them up. She did say her panicky feelings had to do with the session about her mother Marie yesterday, and a dream she’d had last night. Very good, I said, but she couldn’t actually pin down the source or subject matter for her panic today. She continued half crying. “Read me — read me yesterday’s session. I don’t know what I’m doing,” she cried, when I asked her if she was thinking about Marie.

(I read her the session at 2:48. Jane was moaning and crying. She didn’t want to hear my notes for the session, or the poem she’d dictated yesterday. I thought it important that she hear the notes, but had no choice except to wait.

(Tearfully, moaning, at 2:58: “I’m going to try, Rob, to have a session. I’ll do the best I can … I don’t know if I can … All right, I’ll try.” Then, teary, with many pauses, eyes open most of the time:)

[...] Crying and moaning. [...]

(As I massaged Jane’s left leg, she made so much noise — moaning — that Georgia came in. [...]

[...] Jane cried again, and kept on making a series of low moaning sounds, eyes closed, as I worked with the leg. [...]