“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(On March 6, 1984 I wrote this in the daily notes I make each day at the hospital: “This afternoon I described to Jane my dream last night about Joe Bumbalo. I dreamed he was taken very ill with heart trouble — that all he wanted to do was lay on his back in bed — I think in a trailer environment. His wife Margaret was there, and myself. I’m not sure if this meant Joe’s death or not, I told Jane.”

(Joe, John said, has been taken very ill — pains throughout his body, in the bones, but also in the heart area. A test of fluid drawn from the heart area had shown free-floating cancer cells. A CAT-scan did not reveal where they came from. Joe had lain in bed in the trailer, and Margaret had resisted sending him to a hospital. His diabetes is out of control. As I drove John to the hospital, he said the date of my dream checked with developments Margaret had described. I may have tuned into the testing of the fluid around the heart, but I doubt if this can ever be confirmed. It doesn’t matter. John took the car after leaving me at the hospital, and called at 6:45 to say “mission accomplished,” that all were home now. He picked me up at 7:05. The weather is poor, and we had a couple of fairly close calls as he drove me home. I told him to have Margaret call me when I can visit them.

This, you see, is connected with the trailer idea, and I am telling you because you still do not understand the importance of belief and imagination combined. He has gone ahead despite, in this case, your negative interpretation, and seen himself under certain conditions traveling in a trailer, writing, granted, but in front of strangers in a bathing suit or shorts, and he does not want to look like a bony witch. [...]

With Ruburt’s literal-mindedness, again, there is a big difference, a vital one, between freely imagining a trailer trip which then becomes a probable beneficial reality, and being told it will not work.

It is precisely the challenge of things like dancing when he is in poor shape, but coming through when others are watching, or a trailer trip, or riding a bicycle when it seems impossible, or climbing a tree, that has the imaginative literal qualities that inspires him to change beliefs, whether or not those issues in that way make sense to you.

[...] Ruburt’s association with the trailer was caused by the fact that the owner of the card has a male child, who was somewhat unmanageable. And the owners of the trailer, also living in the country, have a child of similar nature.

[...] In parenthesis now for Ruburt’s impression: (the interior of a trailer, and the country.)

[...] Jane said she thought the last word of the data referred to the Birch house being located in the country outside Elmira, and not to be “the interior of a trailer.”

[...] Ruburt instead sees a trailer by the ocean, with each of you writing and painting—his vision, because that establishment requires no housekeeping and a small cash outlay.

[...] That is why his interpretation is a trailer. [...]

(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. [...]

Now when Ruburt imaginatively saw the trailer, and so forth (on our Sunday drive last weekend) and experienced that mobility in imagination, your reaction was the same as the one used for my analogy above. [...]

[...] Ruburt is afraid that if he can operate in a trailer, and he can, that you will find yourselves losing work time, running all over the country, and you are afraid of the same thing. [...]

[...] Ruburt’s imaginative endeavor with the trailer for example represents the kind of activity that is far more productive than any attempt “to face” the terrible conditions that could result if the situation is not solved.

Several times this week, Ruburt imagined the two of you on a trip to Florida, with a trailer by the ocean; both of you working, of course, but quite happily. [...]

[...] On several occasions he simply imagined the two of you in Florida, in the trailer as before, with no thought for how you got there.

[...] We’d felt strong attractions toward what seemed to be a simpler, more open and pleasant life in the Keys, where the weather was excellent all year, and living in a trailer was an accepted way of life. [...]

[...] To convert to trailer living meant that we’d have to dispose of most of what we owned, including paintings and manuscripts, furniture, files, books, and many written records — something we probably couldn’t have brought ourselves to do. [...]

[...] Our landlord, Rich Elgersma, visited us this evening and told Jane and me about a trailer and lot that he could have acquired not long ago for $1300.00. [...]

The sewer pipes carry away drainage from apartment houses and mansions and from trailers as well, eventually, and all of that must be paid for by the people.

(Last Saturday Jane and I visited Cec and Jim Lord, at their trailer home in Westover Hills, Pine Valley. [...]

[...] Mr. Burrell would have come to the trailer to tell—and I will say Jane now—that she did not have to pay the 17.50 short on her register. [...] You would have been painting in the trailer. [...]

[...] [I remember her telling me this in Marathon, when I returned to the trailer after driving out to get a job painting signs.]

[...] The young woman (Jane) found herself extremely uncomfortable to find your family members living together in one house—astounded by the thought of the family together in a trailer, frightened of the camp get-togethers. [...]

[...] The walk is in front of the trailer the Wilburs inhabit in a nearby small town.

[...] Driving or gliding along river road just north of Chemung NY, with fence on my right so that I could not get off the road, I saw sweeping down the hill some distance ahead of me a big tractor-trailer truck—on the wrong side of the road. [...]

(This reminded Jane and me that during Saturday evening, Marilyn had described to us how her young son had discovered what fun there was to the universal game of hanging by his mother’s apron strings, as she tried to go about her duties in the trailer home in nearby Wellsburg, NY.

[...] Jane’s father, Del, traveled with his trailer from Los Angeles to meet us in Daytona Beach, Florida; we followed him to Marathon, in the Florida Keys, where we lived with him and Mischa and Del’s Great Dane, Boo, in that wonderful climate while Jane put in the required few weeks of residency that Florida divorce law required. [...]