“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(In my upper left field of vision I then saw a note that was handwritten in possibly dark pencil. It was torn along the edges and wrinkled, as though it had been smoothed out. It was rectangular in shape. This was a visual image, yet I couldn’t read it.

[...] As a brief byline here, I mentioned once the Crucifixion, saying that it was an actuality and a reality, although it did not take place in your time. [...] It took place in the same sort of time in which a dream takes place, and its reality was felt undeniably by generations, and was reacted to. [...]

[...] Jane was dissociated as usual. After some thought she said she was aware that she was speaking in a strong voice, during dictation. [...]

[...] At times it was quite loud, without growing much deeper. [...] Her pacing was regular.)

(Then, lying down at 8:15 this evening, Jane felt that she went into a deeper trance state, one that was experimental and yet controlled. She was not particularly trying psychological time, yet she felt that she was familiarizing herself for a new development. [...] She was, however, worried somewhat about what control she would have over the material if, in the prone position, she was in a deeper trance.

[...] Jane was fully dissociated as before, and again looked sleepy when the session ended. This time she was not aware of anything except her voice. She was not aware of the darkness. Her attention was elsewhere.

(Jane received her first intimation that something new might develop in the sessions when she was reading over last Wednesday’s session after supper tonight. [...] Her first thought was one of acquiescence. Her second thought was one of panic, in that she wouldn’t know the passage of time as usual, etc.

(It might be interesting to note that at the time Jane received this idea, I was working on an index for the 35th session, of March 16, 1964. In this session Seth talked of having us try various experiments involving the use of the inner senses; tonight’s session was of course in the nature of an experiment. Jane did not know what session I was working on, and we were also separated by two rooms at the time.

When he was not docile as a child there was vicious instant retaliation of a most complicated nature. There was ordinary retaliation, in that he was punished through word attacks, and through such corporal punishment as the invalid could give. But, and here Joseph we come to the real heart of the matter, the mother retaliated in the main not by a direct attack upon the child, but by causing the child to believe that its misbehavior could be, and very nearly was, going to result in the death of the mother. [...]

At the same time the animal was denied the usual constructive psychic atmosphere in which it usually is allowed to operate. The situation in the bedroom was not important in itself. The cat was nervous, bewildered and somewhat frightened however to begin with. The situation was simply the point at which the cat, in self-defense, threw back the destructive energy which it had received, and I must say in fury and full measure, and in the only way it knew.

[...] Jane was as well dissociated, she said, as she has ever been: “He had me so that I was more him than me… Now, how did he do that?” She could have been talking about a stranger, she continued, yet knew what she was saying and that she talked about herself.

The cat therefore was allowed to chase our friend through the apartment. Beside the rather ordinary humiliation, there was the deep bewilderment, you see, for this was the first time, symbolically, that the parent could pursue physically. [...]

(At about the same time Emir was mailed, Jane sent Richard Bach “a crazy poem” that she’d written a couple of days earlier. [...] He gave Jane the excellent news that wherever he went the Seth books were known, and that Jane truly was changing our society through her work. [...] But Dick’s message was certainly a heartening one, and one I’d say that Jane could really use to good effect.

[...] He was willing to take a chance, therefore he was not quite as determined upon safety above all. [...] That is, he was not going to have Emir cut in two, period, even if it meant, as he hoped it would not, that he must ship it around to many other places.

(No session was held Monday evening, since Jane was enjoying a very beneficial relaxation.

[...] Seth’s recent remark, that she was beginning to gain weight again, had alerted me to it, although I’d noticed in recent weeks that Jane was much too thin—when I helped her put on a shirt, take a bath, etc. [...]

(The 41st envelope experiment was held during the session. [...] The object was an unused ticket to a VFW ball and entertainment. [...] It was given to us on the evening of Saturday, November 20,1965, by a friend of our neighbor across the hall. [...] The man, who was also planning to attend the VFW affair later that evening, gave Jane and me a free ticket.

The color mentioned was not clear, and the connection was to the street, which was Gray Street. The—shall I say printed material—was neatly blocked off by strips of black.

(The session was held in our front room. There was a chance that Peggy Gallagher would be present with a press camera, to take some pictures of Jane while she was in trance. [...]

(It was now time for the 48th Dr. Instream experiment. Jane spoke with her eyes closed once more; her pace, although broken by many short pauses, was good overall. [...]

His bubbling enthusiasm was partially responsible for his contracting The Seth Material. He was looking for answers, and young: he looked in any direction. He was not particularly discriminating. He was also not rigid in his ideas, however, and sensed the importance of the material, and as a young editor impressed his boss by his own enthusiasm. [...]

I told you once that Frederick Fell was an excellent publisher for Ruburt’s book. You never directly questioned me about that, but Ruburt was not prepared for that book to sell in any great manner, and it was to his advantage that it appear, to give him a book, but also that it lie quietly for a while.

It was for this reason also that I spoke to you the other evening. He was doing very well in having to deal with such distractions when you commented about the reincarnational material. [...]

All Dick Bach needed that night after Robert Browning was another fancy tale. He needs that challenge, as I told you, so it was not Ruburt blocking.

[...] She had no memory of giving the above monologue; she said it was as though she had “vanished.” I told her that of course she was with me all the time, pacing so fast that at times it was distracting. [...] She felt as though she were a pure vehicle; she had no conscious thoughts about it, she was hardly aware of her environment at all. [...]

[...] It was like a magnified tingling, or thrilling, suffusing the whole body, flooding up my legs into the abdominal and chest cavities; I was left feeling as though I might be lifted up and swept away. The first time the sensation was not as strong as the next two times. When it first swept over me, I wondered if the wine was responsible, though actually I had drunk very little.

(I waited quietly, and in a moment or two the sensation was gone. I was balanced on an arm of our davenport talking to our company. I had the odd feeling that the sensation was related both to the subject of conversation, and to some kind of message or communication I sensed or felt within; I believe that each time I experienced it, I was involved in talk about other people; relatives, children or perhaps parents.

[...] This sensation was so strong that I put down my sandwich and took off my glasses, because I literally did not know what to expect next. [...] Although everyone about me was talking quite loudly, I had the weird sensation of voices within me, of mouths open or crying in soundless rhythm. [...] I definitely felt apprehensive on this second occasion; I thought of some kind of attack, although there was no pain of any kind. The sensation in my chest was very strong. [...]

I was already beginning to study my own psychological behavior, though, and the question of Seth’s independent reality came more and more into my mind. [...] Who or what was he? [...] How did he know someone else was speaking? What was there about Seth that so convinced him that Seth was more than a dissociated part of my own subconscious?

An experimental séance was the next on the list of experiments for my book. We had only the foggiest idea of what a séance was, never having attended one. We did think that more than two people should be involved, though, so we decided to ask Bill Macdonell to join us, since he was the only one who knew of our experiments. [...]

[...] There was no radiant effect, merely the changing color of the flesh itself. Since the hand was in shadow, there was no mistaking the change.

[...] Everything was happening so fast. [...] Our ideas of what was possible were being turned topsy-turvy. [...] Yet we could hardly blame Seth, since the séance was our idea to begin with. [...]

This was not a dream, but the first clear recognition on your father’s part that he was ready to leave the physical plane entirely. You also picked up this information, and it was the impetus for your dream. [...] The paper was empty. There was nothing else he would do here. [...] Earlier he had held it even though it was empty.

She was a strong reality to him afterward, in any case, and he wondered if he should have married her instead. She was either a cousin, or someone he met who was closely connected with his family in the area from which he came. [...]

[...] It was in a cigar box on a back shelf, along with other odds and ends. Otis was elderly even then; my father was born in 1890. [...]

[...] Father and myself and the whole family—I don’t believe Jane was in the dream—had all decided to leave physical reality together. [...] We were all our present ages, except that Father was there and very active, on his feet, etc.)

(“This goddess was the goddess of fertility...and you were from a province in Persia ...You were both poor ...Province was called Sepharthein in the southwest portion of Persia... It was a national holiday, sacrificial day ...something that we would translate into atonement but that wasn’t the word at all ...where children were sacrificed, so that the earth would grow ... [...] You looked something like you do now, only your build was scrawnier. [...] And this was supposed to make you wealthy. If you gave the baby it was supposed to make you really wealthy. It was supposed to do all kinds of fantastic things; and it didn’t, it didn’t, it didn’t! ...And you didn’t have the guts to go back ...and you wandered, and you wandered alone, because you didn’t have the guts to go back. And all you had was a cut—a wound in your left thigh. [...] It was just this fantastic mob ...and those kids were cooked...and it was all in the name of religion and in the name of all this stuff except that out of it you hoped to get wealth ...and all she [Janice] had was a woman’s common love for the child. [...]

(Suddenly Jane leaned forward and said, “I got the idea—I was getting this—the name Bando Bah Zahyar Dhar... [...] A goddess that you followed...She [Janice] was left screaming. The goddess’ name, I think; I never heard of anything like this, was something like Von Bazelraeha.. and they killed the children ...400 children one afternoon ...400 children in one day, and that baby was one of them. Sethpherverando was the name for the baby ...I’m getting the scene and I don’t want to get into the emotional end, so I keep cutting that off to just give you the information. [...]

(Janice said she felt Pete was that baby, and all three agree he was. [...]

(Jane said, “It’s all right, Janice,” and then said to Phil, “There was a baby. [...]

He was filled with wonder as his own consciousness ever-newly came into being. He had not yet covered over that process with the kind of smooth continuity that your own consciousness has now achieved — so when he thought a thought he was filled with curiosity: Where had it come from? His own consciousness, then, was forever a source of delight, its changing qualities as noticeable and apparent as the changing sky. The relative smoothness of your own consciousness — in those terms, at least — was gained at the expense of certain other experiences, therefore, that were possible otherwise. You could not live in your present world of time if your consciousness was as playful, curious, and creative as it was, for [then] time was also experienced far differently.

[...] In that world men knew that nature was balanced. [...] If a man was caught and eaten by animals, as sometimes happened, [his fellows] did not begrudge that animal its prey — at least, not in the deepest of terms. And when they slayed other animals themselves and ate the heart, for example, it was not only to obtain the animals’ “stout hearts,” or fearlessness; but also the intent was to preserve those characteristics so that through men’s experiences each animal would continue to live to some extent.

[...] He realized in those earlier times that illness, for instance, was initially as much the result of the imagination as health was, for he experienced far more directly the brilliant character of his own imagination. [...]

[...] It is far more complicated — and yet early man, for example, became aware of the fact that no man was injured without that event first being imagined to one extent or another. Therefore, imagined healings were utilized, in which a physical illness was imaginatively cured — and in those days the cures worked.

[...] Driving up to Maine, I noted that our car, which is an old one, was using quite a bit of oil. [...] Twice, stopping at stations along the way, I was somewhat surprised to be told by attendants that no oil was needed, or that it was down so little that there was no point in adding more. [...] Again, if tonight’s session developed, I thought I would ask Seth whether I was correct, or merely the victim of some overoptimistic wishes.

(What did develop was that my boss at work, at 11:50 AM, called me on the phone–he happened to be at the company’s other plant on Elmira’s southside at the time–and asked me to put in more time on the job as a regular routine. As soon as the secretary told me who was calling me, I intuitively knew what the call was about and was prepared as I picked up the receiver.

(I had thought that if there was a session tonight, and it was a short one, I would wait to ask Seth what transpired with Miss Callahan within the above time period. [...]

(This was our first session since returning from vacation in York Beach, Maine. [...]

[...] It was a mistake, for no sooner did the subject come up than Jane began again with but one minute’s rest. As it was, she remained seated at the table, sitting with her eyes closed and her glasses off. Her voice, surprisingly, was quite at ease.)

[...] Jane was dissociated as usual. She said that while she was delivering the above material on one level, she also received the thought from Seth “on another level” that she should sleep for three-quarters of an hour after supper on session nights. She has reported this dual reception on a few occasions before, and as before she said she was able to give voice to but one level at a time.

[...] I could tell however that she was somewhat tired, and when she began delivery I thought her voice had a peculiar, flat, expressionless quality that could be the result of fatigue. [...] Her pacing was also quite slow.)

A study or investigation of inner reality was not the purpose of the intellect. The intellect, again, was also and is a means by which the inner self relates itself to the camouflage physical universe which it has itself constructed.

(The child was male as given in the session. The month of February was mentioned; and in February she signed the papers putting the child up for adoption. “Turnabout with the child, a complete change of plan or a turnabout” refers to the fact that she wanted to keep the baby but its father refused to marry her and pushed her into having it adopted; she was a minor also at the time. 1947 is mentioned, the year she met the child’s father; the age 17 is mentioned; she was 17 when she met him: a school connection mentioned and she was still in school at the time.

(Toward the end of the session, I was in an emotional turmoil, still in trance and for this Barb told me at the time she had no explanation. I thought I was in a hospital room. Most likely this was my interpretation of her giving birth to the child; she was supposed to have a Caesarean section but didn’t and was in labor 25 hours; a woman is described here, gray hair, buck teeth, yellow teeth—this, Barb says, is a description of the man’s mother—she wanted him to marry Barb: teeth not really buck but protuberant and yellowed; also gray hair. [...]

[...] A man with a bristly mustache and short bristly hair was mentioned in the first part of the spontaneous session for which no notes were taken; this referred, Barb said, definitely to her father. [...]

(I’ll have to admit I was surprised when my wife said she felt shame at the panic. I hadn’t thought there was anything left for her to hide from me — but upon reflection I saw that her behavior was quite typical, quite secretive. Maybe I should have figured something like that was going on — but on the other hand, how can I be responsible, except possibly in a minor way?

[...] I was working on Chapter 9 — just starting it — of Dreams. Just as I was opening the garage door, I met a woman who had pulled into the driveway, who has a tumor and wanted to see Jane. [...]

[...] The rather small amount, $5,000, was a puzzle. I didn’t know what it was for. [...]

[...] Jane and Georgia talked and smoked while I was down to billing. [...] Her voice was very shaky, not very distinct, rather high-pitched and with little inflection. [...]

Neither of us was bitter about such a God’s apparent injustices—we didn’t pay Him that much attention. [...] No one was more surprised than I was, then, to find myself quite abruptly speaking for someone who was supposed to have survived death. I berated myself at times, thinking that even my Irish grandmother would have found spirits in the living room rather hard to take—and I used to think she was superstitious! [...] It took me a while to discover that I was being as prejudiced against the idea of survival as some others were for it. Now I realize that while I was priding myself on my open-mindedness, my mental flexibility extended only to ideas that fit in with my own preconceptions. [...]

To me it was tantamount to intellectual suicide to even admit the possibility that Seth actually was a personality who had survived death. Nowhere in my first book did I say that I thought Seth was exactly what he said he was: “an energy personality essence no longer focused in physical reality.” [...]

It was February 29, 1968. I was holding one of my twice weekly ESP classes. The large bay window was open, letting in the unusually warm night air. [...]

The alternative, that of hellfire, was equally unbelievable. Yet the conventional God of our fathers apparently sat without a qualm with the blessed in heaven, while the devil tortured the rest of the unlucky dead. That God, I decided, was out. [...] He’d been here; he knew how it was.

(The session was again held in our front room, and was not interrupted. [...] Her pace was a little slower than usual. Her manner was most amused, and she smiled often. [...] She was smoking as the session began.)

He was very fond as a child of Edward Briscoe, who was also Negro. Edward was poor and the victim of circumstances. [...]

He was quite correct in assuming as he did that his upset had little to do with a lack of chairs, since he knew perfectly well that a sufficiency was available. [...]

[...] Jane was dissociated as usual. Her eyes were often open and very dark, and her pace was quite rapid as break approached.

[...] I was still writing. When I looked up I saw that Jane was out of trance, her eyes bleary. I said good night to Seth quickly, but I was too late. [...]

The feeling-tone, somewhat generated in childhood as I told you, was momentarily changed for the better when your relationship with him began. The feeling-tone however was one of the issues that led him to seek so for answers, and also made it very difficult for him to accept them.

The feeling-tone of Ruburt’s mentioned earlier in your terms, the negative one, was triggered as you know by his reaction to your illness, which was followed by rising difficulties on the part of your own parents. [...]

When he felt trapped he adopted those symptoms, though to a much lesser degree, that his mother had when she was trapped. His childhood situation filled him with terror, yet there was the impetus of growing up to set him free. [...]

(Once again, as described in the 215th session, a candle was lighted just before the session began. As before, it was sheltered from Jane’s vision. The room was well lighted. As soon as I lit the candle the flame soared up to a height that was easily two inches, and remained there without interruption for about twenty minutes. This was twice as high as in the 215th session. The same candle was used. Jane knew it was lit of course but we did not talk about it, and she did not see the flame until first break. [...] There were no drafts; the session was held in our small back room, and the windows were closed.

[...] As soon as the test was over, and I believe before she knew what the test object was, Jane told me that she believed “Something” and “someone” referred to the same thing. Only one member of the family was missing at the gathering Sunday, and this was my brother Loren’s daughter Linda, who was at work in Scranton, PA. It was too far away for her to make the trip up to Sayre, and back, in one day.

Your parents definitely let him know that they wanted a new television set, and he quite uncharacteristically told them it was impossible as far as he was concerned. His physical action, his refusal, was based upon a telepathic communication with you, in the dream state, on those evenings when you had the dreams which I interpreted for you.

The swing represented your feeling that after all Ruburt was relatively free, on the one hand, from the problem. [...] The other part was represented by your concern for him, for although he was not as directly affected as you, he would still be involved.

[...] Jane and I had moved back to 458 W. Water Street, only now the house was much bigger than it really is, had many more apartments in it — they were all in good shape, with numerous stairways connecting them on a split-level layout. [...] Jane was very active and healthy, walking about normally. In the dream I was involved with painting, but not writing.

(Carla interrupted our conversation to check Jane’s vitals — temperature 98.4. During our talk I noticed that it didn’t take my wife long to begin reacting emotionally to my questions, which I thought were innocent enough — but it was apparent that the subject matter of our conversation had an emotional charge for her. [...] In fact, I was sure of it. However, after she realized what she was doing, Jane seemed to take my questions in stride, and even volunteered a lot of information I hadn’t asked for.

Beside this, however, their energy was utilized in a different fashion than yours is. [...] Although this was true, their dreaming mental processes did not slow down. There was a much greater communication in the dream state, so that some lessons were taught during dreams, while others were taught in the waking condition.

[...] The day was much warmer — 25 degrees — when I left for 330. [...] Steve was also talking about the phases of the moon having influence on his behavior and actions, Jane said she didn’t believe in that. [...]