“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

The dream was simply a small scenario. (Long pause.) Such probable currents ride beneath all relationships. If your father did have daughters, rather than sons in the life that you know, he actually would have fared better in the physical world, because he would have felt it his duty to protect them financially: he would have considered them fairly helpless, and in need of his abilities. As his sons grew out of boyhood he felt that they dwarfed him. He was in a fashion frightened of the ideas of masculinity he grew up with—ideas he felt he did not embody, and he projected those upon his sons so that in a fashion they overawed him, or put him to shame.

(Pause.) Your father’s sentence—the paper-bag reference—was one he actually made in his own mind, in the life that you actually knew him in, and he considered that sons rather than daughters represented his one physical triumph —that is, he believed sons preferable, and they alone compensated for a working man’s life—a life he felt did not befit him.

The same applies to all “psychological” particles, to units of consciousness, and to their affiliations within personality. If you were your father’s son, you were somewhere your father’s daughter, and it was at that point of reference that you encountered the dream situation.

A daughter, however, would have given him a beneficial relationship, someone with whom he could discuss such feelings, as he did with you in the dream. With sons, he felt that he should not show emotions of defeat, and he felt that communication itself had the feminine overtones of an unfortunate nature.

[...] The love that does exist between father and son can best be maintained and nurtured when the son stands alone, and lets the father know that he has the strength to do so. For the sacrifices unconsciously asked by the father, the father regrets, and the sacrifices made by the son, the son regrets.

[...] Yet here we have further conflict, because indeed the present father loves the present son. It is not the son that he would wound. It is the man that son once was.

So, as the father pays back his old betrayer, he hurts the son without knowing why. [...] Nor can the son, loving the father, understand either the father’s cruelty or his own sense of gratification received from the cruelties. [...]

[...] And why else would he demand from a son that which no father has a right to demand? [...]

[...] Psychologically speaking, and in these terms only, on certain levels the son desires to replace the father. When the father is vigorous the son is fearful of retaliation. If the son does not understand himself, then when fear of retaliation is removed, particularly if the mother beckons, then a trap is set.

[...] There are of course reasons why the three sons were born within the family. The vitality of the mother was of great benefit in many ways to the sons.

In each of her three sons she sees portions of the man she married. [...]

[...] He imagined his sons as children sleeping. [...]

Father and son.

Son.

(“What did my son grow up to be?”)

(“Could you give me the name of my son, the artist?”)

(They were married 28 years, and had a son and a daughter. The son is now living in California around Los Angeles. [...] The son has two children, boys, who look like the son, who looked like his father.

[...] The husband and son were working on the farm somewhere. [...]

[...] She did not hang around her son in California.

In a previous life he was your son by blood. [...] This time he came back and was a son to you. [...]

(Session addressed to Andrea Bergere, whose adopted son died by drowning last summer.)

[Seth:] In a previous life he was your son by blood. [...] This time he came back and was a son to you. [...]

(Usually we keep the records of her ESP class in a separate set of three-ring binders, but Jane wanted to insert this one as part of Session 393 in our “regular” sessions: She wanted to show Seth discussing a subject that was emotionally very important to a class member—Audrey Shepherd—whose adopted son had died by drowning last summer.)

[...] Jane was recommended to them by Ray Van Over; they wanted information on the death and attendant circumstances of their son Michael, who died last month at a little over 3 years of age.

[...] You are the one who is always in control, and you knew before you and your wife met, subconsciously, the circumstances that had gone before, and the reason for your meeting, and your son knew. [...]

[...] Your son is not a three-year-old any longer. [...]

[...] You are not to look backward, but forward for the very fulfillment of your own abilities—and I am speaking to you both—will come as a direct result of your acquaintanceship with your son.

We will try to separate the father from the son here. [...] But if so, he has more drive than the son. The characteristics given however do apply to the man who is ill, whether it is the father or son.

(About the children: Two boys in particular meet at John’s house to go to school with John’s two boys, His son, John, is in the third grade. [...]

(Jane’s handwritten note: “May 1968—John, in rereading a copy of this session, saw at once that the boy referred to as M J is M.J. Shuman—a child whose influence on his son he distrusts. [...]

([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. [...]

[...] She gave him sons hoping to pacify him, but he always felt that the sons challenged his vitality and position.

[...] The sons left early, but he refuses to leave. She feels betrayed by the sons who left, and the father who stayed.

In each of her three sons she sees portions of the man she knew. [...]

[...] It stayed as a counterbalancing influence in the family, for the sons’ sake. [...]

(Jane and I had visited the Wilburs at their trailer in Wellsburg last Friday evening, January 14, 1966, and met for the first time their 2-year old son, Scotty. When we left Jane forgot her pocketbook and Marilyn returned it Saturday morning; she had her son with her and Jane had more time to observe him. [...]

[...] You thought the intruder was your son, since the girl was one of his mistresses. In a truly laughable attempt to elicit your son’s sympathy you literally wept in your beard.

His present mother was a wife to him when he was overly aggressive, and he chose to be born as her son in this existence in order to pay an old debt. [...]

[...] One of Mark’s present brothers was a son of Mark’s when he was a woman in Iowa.

I suggest that you take your break; and again, by all means, let me complicate matters further by commenting on the fact that Mark himself knew you, Joseph, twice before, and perhaps you will recall my comments upon your relationship with your son’s mistresses in Denmark.

You have in the Trinity Father, Son and Holy Ghost. [...] He is a son, and then a father, and always within him he feels that part or inner self which cannot be seen by another, which is neither father nor son, but which is within him while he is father, and while he is son.

[...] There were many unfortunate misuses of the old system of having a son follow in his father’s footsteps, yet the son at a young age was given meaningful work to do, and felt a part of life’s mainstream. [...]

[...] Did Adam really live for 930 years, or Seth, the third son of Adam and Eve, for 912? [...]

In Genesis 11, the listing of Abraham’s ancestors begins after the Flood with the oldest son of Noah, Shem, living some 600 years. [...]

[...] Also, a given father-son relationship may have actually been one between a father and a great-great-grandson, for example. [...]

[...] As I went through a double revolving door I caught a glimpse of a young man, say in his mid-twenties, who was an exact duplicate of my own son, who I knew was not in the mall, but was away on business of some kind. The shock of seeing my son’s double was so great that instead of chasing him to question him, I had to sit down on a bench to recover. [...] Either I followed him to his car, then talked to him, or followed him to where he lived with his parents — but he bore an uncanny resemblance to my own son.

I do not know how or when the two look-a-like young men met — but in my reverie I thought of the mother in question tracing back connections all the way to her son’s birth at the Elmira hospital. [...]

[...] Even the ages of the triplets — 19 years — places them fairly close to my son’s age of 25 in my reverie, rather than, for example, brothers in their 40s.

[...] If he told you to slay your son upon a mountaintop, then it was up to you to obey, and to your son to acquiesce. [...]

[...] If God could tell a man to slay a son, and if private revelation were granted validity, then “divinely inspired crimes” might not only be legion, but might also take man’s energies away from accepted Godly pursuits—like fighting the infidels or heretics at home (all louder).

[...] She wrote Jane in March, 1972, about her son. [...]

There were connections in past lives that united mother and son, of which they are both unconsciously aware. [...]

(Jimmy’s youngest son, J.J., is six years old. [...] If anything this likeness between father and son has grown with the passing years, until now it is a standard topic of conversation when the Spazianis and the Buttses get together. [...]

Upon another occasion however, we will discuss your relationship with him and his wife, and the rather bizarre circumstances that surround the man and his youngest son.

[...] I will say that the mentioned experience did involve a communication of the father and his son, taking place through the cooperation of the wife. [...]

The boy, the youngest son, is also well endowed, with already efficient inner senses. [...]

[...] A warmth that forms the very pulse of physical existence and yet is born from the devotion of our isolation; that is born from the creativity that is beyond flesh and bone, that forms fingers without feeling fingers, that forms seasons without knowing spring, that creates sand without knowing sand or ground, that creates the reality that you know without experiencing it, that forms fathers, sons and daughters and mothers without knowing what fathers and mothers and daughters and sons are, and yet from this devotion, from that creativity comes all that you know. [...]

[...] [The postcard used as object for the session showed Mother Goose.] The Ali Baba display was quite impressive, Barbara said; so much so that she took a picture of Gary, her sister’s young son, in one of the large jars or vases belonging to Ali Baba.