“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(Long pause; the pace was still slow at this point.) Consciousness can be turned in many directions, obviously, both inward and outward. [...]

[...] I told her I thought the session was excellent.

[...] I wanted to know more about the Speakers’ training, by whom it was conducted, and their intuitions and dream experiences.

[...] Now there was a time, speaking in your terms, before the making of symbols; a time so divorced from your idea of reality that only in the most protected areas of sleep does any memory of it ever return. [...]

[...] We had plenty of other things to do: I was still occupied daily with writing notes and appendixes for Volume 2 of “Unknown” Reality; on June 4 Jane received the page proofs for Cézanne, and began correcting them for the printer; on the 14th of the month “our” contractor began converting half of our garage into a writing room for Jane, and adding a large back porch [see the end of Note 2 for Session 801]. All of that building activity was much noisier and more disruptive than the work had been for the front porch, and forced some changes in our schedules, including more night work, as we manipulated around those distractions.

[...] [Sue is a writer also, and knows about things like manuscripts.] Then by the time this 806th session came about, Jane estimated that she was practically through with the first handwritten draft of James. [...]

Because the episode was used on two or three different occasions, Ruburt could see how this memory changed. [...]

We parked here today
and the green world swirled
jungle-quick, downtown
across the river, and like
a city bushman I was in tune,
swinging through thought’s treetops
while the traffic stopped and started,
precise as a ceremony of animals,
almost formal, engines thundering
then purring, wheels pausing,
headlights hypnotized in sun.
You walked into the bank,
making an exchange as ancient
as any tribal dance.

(Saturday, June 23, 1973, was the first anniversary of the flood caused by Tropical Storm Agnes — or, as the local newspaper put it in a flood supplement, the occasion was Agnes Plus One.

(Jane’s delivery was rather slow, and her eyes were closed for much of the session.)

[...] In some ancient cultures, drugs were indeed utilized in such a manner, but their use was well understood — and more importantly, their use was socially acceptable. [...]

(Jane seemed to be a bit better — not a lot — and I did mail until she said she was ready for a session. [...]

[...] I could dictate a reply that would satisfy him well enough, but it would (pause) perhaps be the more distorted the more it was geared for his understanding.

[...] Why do I feel that I have an eternal reality, when it is obvious that I was physically born and will physically die?”

[...] This was the end of the regular session material for the evening. [...]

(Late Friday afternoon—I begin to read Seth sessions for last summer and a line reminds me of what else I was getting from Seth last night and today.

(It was: distinguish between the natural and cultural or social world and assure myself I am safe in the natural world.

[...] She thought Seth was “trying to couch the stuff in terms that would make sense to someone who didn’t know much about such things, while keeping it of interest to a physicist, say — which wasn’t easy to do. There was a lot more about synapses and neurons, and things like that, that he didn’t put in….”

[...] Under particular conditions a memory may suddenly become more real than the event of the present moment, and so rush again into your current experience as validly as when it was first lived, and even seem to blot out the occurrences of the moment.

In your terms that event may never come to pass, however, because it may be arising from a probable past that was once your present, but from which you have diverged. [...]

(No book dictation was involved in Monday’s session for June 4, which was held for a scientist visiting Jane from the West Coast. [...]

[...] To you it would appear that the life was a past one, finished. [...]

(It had just stopped raining and the humidity was high. [...]

(No session was held last night, obviously, because Jane was so relaxed. [...] Once again she was very comfortable on the couch after supper, watching the news on television; in fact, for some days now she’d had her best times, as far as feeling better go, while relaxing after supper. [...]

[...] I am not here referring to Mass Events, which was indeed directed toward the condition of the world, but to matters—whatever they may be—where Ruburt feels a responsibility on his part (underlined) for me to dictate specific material that might answer questions he thinks scientists or others might have in mind about any given subject matter; for I write from a different viewpoint, and our material is of course not to be dictated in any (pause)important way by the statement of your official knowledge at any given time. [...]

[...] You are like a living language spoken by someone who did not originate it — the language was there for you to use. [...] The components of that language or the earth elements that form the body were already created when you were born, as the alphabet of your particular language was waiting to be used.

[...] After that event, we decided that a flood was one reality we could do without!)

[...] This was the first time in our sessions that he’s delivered material on two books in one night. [...]

[...] The left arm for some time was considerably “tied in knots” from the elbow down. It was one hard mass, say, that has largely broken up, leaving you with only the two lumps that change sizes. [...]

[...] The color was much subdued at session time tonight. [...]

[...] As soon as Ruburt cut down on his worrying for a day or so, he was crowded with creative ideas. [...]

[...] After giving a couple of paragraphs of material for Jane, Seth brought the session to a close at 10:15 P.M. Jane was more than a little surprised at its quick end; her delivery had been steady and forceful. [...] “I also felt like I was getting into the Guyana thing, without mentioning it by name. At least I thought I was.” [...]

(Pause at 10:43.) Now often the ego acts as a dam, to hold back other perceptions — not because it was meant to, or because it is in the nature of an ego to behave in such a fashion, or even because it is a main function of an ego, but simply because you have been taught that the purpose of an ego is restrictive rather than expanding. [...]

That was the end of dictation. [...]

[...] It was very astute, I thought. [...]

(Her fiction, Seth added, was Jane’s “way of probing probabilities and of trying to understand other people. [...]

(Jane was dissociated as usual.)

[...] In the case of drugs however the chemical framework might delay such a return until it was too late.

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

(No envelope experiment was held.)

[...] The whole self is being expanded, is beginning to know itself, for it always was what it will appear to be. [...]

[...] But she didn’t feel that she was actually traveling.

[...] They are my characteristics as I am, but also as I was. For I am no longer what I was. [...]

[...] I was also here last week and I am always in this room. [...]

(The session was late in starting because we were visited by Curtis Kent from 8 to 9:45. [...]

On your part also then there was a reluctance to react to annoyance in a normal natural manner, and this is why the situation built up. [...]

[...] She was not pleased with her own behavior, yet needed support that your reprimand would have provided, and can still provide.

[...] He was never imprisoned by believing that one personality existed within one form. [...]

His development began in your terms in such ancient times that for all intents and purposes you could say that in terms of value fulfillment he was so far advanced as to be alien entirely.

[...] Jane’s trance was good, and she entered and left it easily.)

[...] The idea of the seminar was essentially that the act of cocreating was to provide a vessel out through which something could be continually becoming. What was it, do you think, that flowed through this vessel? [...]

[...] Gene surprised and pleased, as Jane was, at this data.

There never was anything to be said. [...]

Today, Jane wrote three more excellent little poems, all of which I hope to eventually see published.² I think she grumbled the whole time she was doing them, though, since she kept at herself because she wasn’t working on God of Jane.

Jane surprised me at the last moment by asking if I wanted the session; I’d thought she was going to pass it up because of her general discontent with herself. [...]

[...] Poetry, however, did not fit into his current ideas about work, and so that excellent creativity was hardly counted at all.

[...] (Pause.) In a fashion, creative play is your human version of far greater characteristics from which your universe itself was formed. [...]