“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

He rarely slept for more than three hours at a time for years, without interruption, and the old remembered biological pattern returns. Some guilt here, since in the past if he slept four hours he would have known that he slept through his mother’s call. Mainly however the three-hour biological pattern simply returns.

Now, he thought as a child that every night was literally a death, and every dawn literally a rebirth. He was terrified that his mother had died during the night when he was very young, and could not help him. She could not, you see, climb the stairs at his call. Later he felt that she would either commit suicide or kill them both while he slept, and he feared the night. (Pause.) In times of stress the old stay-awake-at-night fearful pattern reoccurs. In the deepest trouble he doubted your feeling for him also, and in exaggerated panic felt that you would feel released if he died, as he felt that he would feel released as an adolescent if his mother died. For in those hours he saw himself crippled as she was, and a stone about your neck.

(Last night, for perhaps only the second or third time since coming home from the hospital last March, Jane slept through the night, as I did: although I woke up several times to check on her, feeling uneasy that I wasn’t putting her on the commode, etc. In addition, she slept on her left side practically the whole time—very welcome news. [...]

[...] Jane has slept in her chair now practically all day for several days. [...]

(Jane slept until noon, and again during the morning thrashed about often in her sleep, and sometimes whimpered or cried out, presumably because of a dream. Yet when I called her she said she’d slept well. [...] Yet Jane was back in bed by 3 PM, and slept until suppertime.

[...] She has an unpleasant experience involving her mother as we got into bed, but I reassured her and she slept well. [...]

[...] Dick slept in one, the bed that you have pictured. His eldest sister slept in another, and a young brother in the third. There was also a smaller bed in which a maid slept. [...]

[...] I saw very clearly the front upstairs bedroom in which he slept, and the bed in which he died as a boy of 9. I made a very quick sketch of this mental picture with a ballpoint pen. [...]

[...] Throckmorton and his wife, Lessie, usually slept in it. [...]

[...] On the other side of the staircase was a much smaller room where Throckmorton and Lessie slept during Dick’s illness, with a younger boy who was 3 at the time. [...]

[...] She hadn’t slept well last night, and staff had been too busy to help her turn often enough. Yet Jane doesn’t know whether she received a dose of the antibiotic during the night while she may have slept.

[...] Jane had been so relaxed all day that she finally slept after supper. [...]

(While she slept two women from Trumansburg visited, unannounced. [...]

[...] Jane slept until about 10:30. She hadn’t done badly, and I’d rubbed her legs before we slept. [...]

(Last night [Thursday] slept great. [...]

[...] I thought it a good idea, myself, so when she slept until 10:30, and then became busy talking to Frank Longwell about the conversion of our front porch to a glassed-in affair, I didn’t ask that she try any. [...]

[...] Actually, she’d slept well, and got up to have breakfast with me. [...]

[...] Yet she wasn’t sleepy—“I’ve slept enough today,” she said, referring to her morning and afternoon naps. [...]

Ruburt’s grandmother taught him to sleep with his hands above the coverlets, so that the child would not even begin subconsciously to feel its own parts while it slept (again intently). [...]

(I slept rather uneasily, waking up several times while class was still in progress. [...] Then I slept. [...]

[...] Finally I slept.

[...] As it developed, she slept through, and felt somewhat better when morning came.)

Sunday night I slept very well until dawn arrived. [...]

[...] But I had a good time Friday night with Gallaghers and slept well; and eyes did improve again. [...]

[...] I painted for an hour this morning while Jane slept, but felt a peculiar heaviness or loginess I was unaccustomed to. [...] We went to bed at 2 PM and slept until supper time, after watching the perfect reentry and landing of Columbia, the country’s first space shuttle.

(Jane slept late this morning, and after she had breakfast I read her last night’s session. [...]

[...] Then she was fine, and slept well. [...]

[...] She slept well after that: “Yeah, I woke up this morning and my mood was fine—I spontaneously felt good. [...]

[...] During the latter part of this session he slept beside me, wedged between my leg and the arm of the divan. [...]

(This morning Jane slept until noon again, as she’d done last Monday. She slept well until 2:30 AM, but had a rough night from then on, often sore, and tossing and turning. [...]

[...] She slept very poorly and was continuously restless. [...] She slept until 11 AM, then spent a very silent and depressed day moodwise. [...]

[...] I’d slept heavily for a couple of hours this afternoon. [...]