“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] Mentally see him in his studio, at drawing table. [...]

[...] I was having a Seth session, seated at my place at living room table. [...]

[...] My dream notebook lay open on the table. [...]

[...] As it was, she remained seated at the table, sitting with her eyes closed and her glasses off. [...]

[...] We didn’t try the table today, but she did do the healing energy thing, and evidently with some success: She’s to write a description of it to insert in the pendulum notebook. [...]

[...] I took my usual place at the writing table. [...]

[...] They sit quite comfortably on their living room couch, with dinner on the coffee table, surrounded by all of the dear, homey paraphernalia that is familiar to your society.

[...] He sat down, but she stared at the table. [...]

(Then when we watched the news while eating supper at the coffee table, we soon found the mayhem and related misdeeds recited by the newscasters so depressing that we switched channels to an innocuous Mod Squad show several years old—even though those color backgrounds—Nicaragua, Israel, Russia, etc., were still so fascinating. [...]

[...] With a gesture of despair, she waved at the floor-to-ceiling bookcases and at the magazines piled on the coffee table. [...]

Then, gradually, I became aware that my consciousness was settling back in my body again, but slowly, like dust motes descending through the evening air down to where my body sat upright at the table, head bent, fingers furiously scribbling notes about what was happening as if they had a mind of their own.

[...] After she had gotten up to get her cigarettes, she sat down opposite me at the table again, and spoke from there until break. [...]

(Jane resumed, once again sitting across from me at the table instead of in her rocker, at 10:30.)

(At 10:25 Jane abruptly handed to me a paper and pencil and pointed to the table. [...]

(Jane pounded upon the table, although smiling.)

(Here, by way of humorous emphasis, Jane grinned and pounded on the table.)

(Again Jane pounded on my writing table for emphasis.)

[...] Imagine a photograph of yourself (in parentheses: Yes, we are finally back to photographs).³ In your mind’s eye see the photograph of yourself on a table or desk. [...]

[...] Now in your mind see that image walking out of the snapshot, onto the desk or table. [...]

(At the supper table Jane expressed a fear that, although both of us are well aware of it, she seldom mentions: that she won’t be able to recover, that the symptoms have gone too far, have been around too long for full recovery, etc. [...]

[...] In between may be a grouping of opposing symbols, representing your hope — a spring flower, a table loaded with food, a new suit of clothes, any sign of abundance that would have meaning to you. [...]

[...] He is being as creative when he contemplates the kitchen table in his own fashion, and is enjoying then a state of consciousness that is to some extent uniquely his own. [...]

(And Jane rapped not so gently upon the table for emphasis.)

(Again Jane banged upon the table to make her point.)

[...] They do not appear physically, as say a table or a chair, yet they seem to define both a table and a chair, in that you cannot easily conceive of a piece of furniture, for example, existing except in the medium of space and time.

At the same time in his mind, the work area was enlarged, since before he considered it to be composed psychically of his table area alone. [...]

[...] Immediately, without trying, at different times his imagination came up with different pictures to implement the desire—the table, the cupboard.

([November 16, 1980—Jane gives up walking with typing table. [...]