“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] This noon I met Jeff Karder in the emergency room — just as I was thinking about him. [...] I said that such periods seemed to run in cycles, that I watch Jane and would always call someone if I thought anything else was amiss. [...]

[...] Obviously, then, the affected individual was thought to be speaking for God when he gave orders or directives. [...]

[...] Although he lacked that characteristic mark of speaking for a superbeing, this was because he frequently regarded himself as the superbeing. [...]

[...] Once again, staff interrupted Jane twice while she was speaking for Seth. [...]

[...] The effect was something like an allergy or cold, although the pendulum told me it was neither. The condition was very annoying.)

[...] Jane was well dissociated. The restlessness was still apparent to her, also. [...]

[...] Jane was well dissociated. She wasn’t sure she wanted me to put this down, but she felt that one of Seth’s experiments might involve her opening her eyes while she was sitting down in a deep trance—so that Seth might look out of them.)

[...] Her voice was average, her rate of delivery average also, but with pauses. [...]

[...] Jane was fully dissociated this time. My writing hand was also tiring, since her rate of dictation had continued to be fast.

(And this certainly seems to fit the mood Jane was in last night.)

[...] I would return again to those questions asked: What was the first act of creation? [...]

It is basically as meaningless in essence, to ask this kind of question as it would be to pause in the middle of a dream, and wonder when first the dream location was created: To stand facing a dream landscape and wonder at what point in time the rocks had their origin. [...]

[...] Again, your discussion about the dentist was vital to him, because he finally understood his attitudes—not only in that area but others; and in those areas, no matter what he told himself, he was afraid that the worst was really happening, or would happen.

[...] They came on while I was talking about money with Jane. [...]

Now: as Ruburt often imagined the worst possibility, and thought that he was being practical in doing so, in terms of his physical condition, gums and all, so you do the same thing in these given areas.

[...] You feared that in life she was always wounded by photographs because they showed her to be so far less than she wanted herself to be or appear.

(This is the first session since the deleted one of January 7, which was held just before the script for Personal Reality came back to us. [...] Today I described the question in my mind as I fell asleep last night: With such a situation developing, why hadn’t she at least asked—let alone demanded—sessions, in order to find out what was going on? [...]

Both of you have seen yourselves in the past in a rather specialized light, and interpreted your success, or lack of it, or progress or lack of it, in one particular area only; and you had at least, each of you, a tendency to view the other in the same manner, though this was far more emphasized on Ruburt’s part. [...]

[...] Because of this, however, he was never sure whether or not you resented the time spent in this work—the sessions.

Viewing you as he viewed himself, using the same logic, he was afraid however that basically you felt our work a detriment to your own, and that its success, while pleasing you on the one hand, might prevent you from success as an artist because you would not have the time, and that you would basically resent it. [...]

[...] Again though all night it seemed I was involved someway with the hostages. All I recall was bewilderment that the world and everyone in it thought that the events were taking place now, while they weren’t in my time scheme at all. [...]

[...] That night, all night it seemed, I was concerned with the hostages, uneasy, though I don’t recall actual dreams. [...]

[...] As the phone rang, I was tempted to say to her, “That’s going to be a very important call for you.” At once afterward I thought that such an event was quite unlikely on a Sunday morning. [...] I was curious after the call to see how we’d react to the visit.

At the same time, you could not enjoy such enforced idleness—far be it from that—so the period was highly unpleasant. This was to help you save face: you didn’t take time out because you wanted to, but because you were so miserable that you could not work—and then yelled out in outrage that the body so betrayed you. [...] It was responsive to your own desires and needs, where you consciously were not.

[...] It was not so much that Ruburt could not make it to a bar, or in the store. [...] He obviously had difficulties, but you were both ashamed of those difficulties, so that he was ashamed to go into the bar or the supermarket, regardless, and to some extent this still applies.

[...] Until now, however, it was very important that the mechanics of the procedures were described, for the session format is of course part of the message. [...]

(It might be worth noting here that many sessions ago Seth stated he was substituting the word “area” for “level,” when a reference to the subconscious was made. [...]

[...] He had just eaten and was getting playful. [...] While I was moving about Jane sat quietly. [...]

(Due to the work involved in hanging my first one-man show of paintings, at Harris Hill Inn, last night’s regularly scheduled session was not held.

[...] Jane was dissociated as usual. [...]

[...] The tumor was formed by inner concentration. [...] It existed in her mind long before it was physically constructed.

[...] Jane was dissociated as usual. [...] Once again she was surprised by what seemed to be the swift passage of time.

(No envelope experiment was held during the session.

[...] Her pace was average, her voice quiet.)

(Jane was not nervous before the session. All was quiet. [...] Her speech was quite deliberate, and she took many pauses between phrases throughout the session. Her pacing was regular, her eyes dark as usual.)

(Recently Jane had been reading an essay in which entropy, the mathematical measure of unavailable energy in a thermodynamic system, was discussed. [...]

[...] Jane was dissociated as usual. [...]

[...] Jane was dissociated as usual. [...]

[...] He was from Port Arthur, Texas. He was quite intelligent, a musician who had written an “opera,” he told us. Like a number of our other recent callers, he was traveling around the country, seemingly free of all ties, doing odd jobs on occasion, but living on little money. [...]

[...] It was a humid night and our living room door was wide open. [...]

[...] Ruburt was working beyond such authority, and yet his own sense of safety and value had not grown sufficiently so that he could depend upon his own newer beliefs, either. [...] The entire condition, regardless, was caused by tension of a steady nature. [...]

(All of the above was delivered in a very emphatic manner.)

[...] The best was probably the opening of fluent communication between the two of you, and Ruburt’s understanding that you would go full steam ahead to help him recover—his understanding that you did indeed want him to recover. That was highly important.

Again—Cézanne did not show in any way on the outside, yet the “work” was largely prepared before the first line was written. [...]

(I told Jane at suppertime tonight that she was having a session this evening. [...]

(We had attempted to find reasons for her rigidity this morning through using the pendulum, with some success, we thought, but as the day passed there was little response physically on Jane’s part.

[...] More often than not, this made me redo my own notes in unanticipated ways — always a creative challenge that was most enjoyable, and yet, paradoxically, one that at times was very frustrating. [...] I learned a patience that I hadn’t suspected was possible for me. For this patience, employed in conjuring up thoughts and images through words, was objectively and subjectively quite different in quality from that which I was so used to using in producing painted images. [...]

[...] Sometimes I thought she was simply being kind in so reassuring me. [...] He also stressed that our plan to divide the work was intuitively correct, and based on legitimate inner knowledge. [...] (However, the decision to publish in two volumes, made when “Unknown” Reality was almost finished, caused me to rewrite most of my original notes for it with that new presentation in mind.)

The accumulated material further added to the length of the work, which was considerable. [...] This meant that our readers could have access to part of the manuscript while I was preparing the rest. [...]

I also felt that the chronology of presentation for both Seth’s and Jane’s books was being distorted: Because I was so slow in finishing my work on Volume 2 of “Unknown” Reality, Jane published her Psychic Politics first, for example, when the reverse order should have prevailed. [...]

The woman was quite real, but existed in another plane of activity. She was a survival personality in your terms. You projected to her system of reality and the environment was pseudophysical, the projection of her own thoughts made real in objective terms within the system.

[...] Perhaps it was a plane, so that you would not be frightened. The flying was a fact, you see, the plane was a thought-form.

The beginning of your physical universe occurred when conscious energy directed enough of its attention (long pause) in what was generalized dimension, to spark the formation of physical properties. The creation was just that. [...]

[...] Her voice was average. [...]

Before this the generalized dimension was simply nonexistent, a vacuum, which consciousness had not yet filled. [...]

[...] (Long pause.) Consciousness then formed out of itself a new dimension which was the physical one. [...]

(When I got to 330 at 1:05 today I discovered that Jane was free of two more pathos on her ulcer sites—they were gone from inside her right knee, and her right shoulder. [...]

[...] There was much kidding around. [...]

[...] One was an error in billing for benefits that have already expired on our regular coverage. [...]

[...] I suggested she have a session, if she was going to, before the people started coming in to check her vitals. [...]

It upsets Ruburt when you talk of moving, but make no actions to do so, because subconsciously it reminds him of the deep uncertainty and insecurity he felt when he was in the orphanage. [...] Various dates were given and then his leaving was postponed several times.

[...] Jane’s trance had been good—she was far out, she said. [...] I had suspected some points, but most was very revealing, especially my subconscious reasons re land ownership, Jane’s very excellent way of personifying wherever she lived, etc., and her unknown ability for real estate dealing, etc.

[...] You remember how strict your father was however, and methodical, in gardening. [...]

[...] It was a probability that you did not follow.

[...] She said she “worked out” with some exercises in her room this morning when no one else was around. [...]

[...] Then she did motions with her arms and hands that she hadn’t done before, very fast, she said it felt like she was going to shake her fingers off. [...]

[...] Her left elbow was easily the most flexible yet, I could tell. [...]

(Her Seth voice was good—more “separated” from her normal voice, more distinctive, perhaps more sure, and a bit louder.)

(This really surprised me, since for some months I’ve had the idea that my own reluctance to use photographs was a weakness on my part, when it was obvious that they’d add considerably to the books. But my reluctance was based, I thought, on my resentment at Prentice-Hall over their handling of art work; I really didn’t want to let the photos in question out of the house, for fear they’d be lost, etc. [...]

[...] She did not like to have her picture taken on the one hand because she feared disclosure, and on the other hand, because her sense of perfection was affected—particularly in later years by an imperfect image.

(There was a short exchange between Seth and me, which I didn’t note down verbatim. [...]

[...] The short dream was so vivid that I was jolted wide awake out of a deep sleep. [...]

[...] You heard him, and wondered if he was perhaps in the bathroom and needed your help. [...]