“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] After he took his fall a blanket was hunted for among the members of the gathering. One was finally taken from a car, and David was made to lie quietly on it for a while to make sure no delayed injury showed up. [...] The interesting bit of information here is that a deliberate effort was made to spread the blanket on a grassy spot near the picnic tables, so that a softer bed would be furnished.

[...] However, remember that the object came from our visit of Tuesday July 12, whereas the gathering was held on Saturday July 16. The link here being that a parking ticket was also obtained, and saved by me, during Saturday’s visit; this ticket was the same except for the serial number as the ticket used as object.

[...] Her eyes were open from the beginning of the session, she was smoking, and her voice was average with pauses.)

[...] Jane said she was far-out. Her pace was a bit faster, her eyes open often, etc. [...]

I should clarify this perhaps by saying that the split was a split of the entire subconscious. In Ruburt’s case last January 10th the split was of the conscious level. Since Ruburt was unaware of causing the dissociation to begin with, he was unable to find his blundering way out.

[...] Jane was kneeling, reaching into a cupboard, and Willy was momentarily trapped behind her. [...] The blow was a hard one and left her somewhat dazed for hours. We had never seen Willy behave this way before, and in a few moments he was as friendly and calm as usual, and resumed eating.

He was your president, not mine. You know who the assassin was. Of course the senseless slaughter was not foreordained. It was always a realm of the possible world, and the tragic circumstances culminated in much the same manner as Jane related in her Idea Construction.

[...] It was dark outside. Jane was holding Willy. [...] Again, a minute later he was as friendly as ever to both of us.)

(The feeling was predominant in her head and arms, but was also slowly spreading into the lower parts of her body. It was as though, she said, her boundaries of awareness had expanded. It was not that she felt thickheaded, but as though the skull itself was literally expanding. [...]

(Jane’s pacing was by now quite fast. For someone who was tired to begin with, she was setting quite a pace.)

(Jane told me that upon slowly coming awake from her nap, and while she was listening to me move about the living room setting up the desk and my pad, etc., for the session, she had the most peculiar feeling of “growing larger.” The first laughing phrase she used was that she felt as though she was as big as an elephant.

[...] Her area while in this state was much enlarged—she used the phrase infinitely large to describe it. She was not aware of too much happening within this area, she said, just that it existed. [...] She was not frightened by the sensation, and went along with it.

[...] He was terrified of the vulnerability to pain, and yet he felt the ability to face and handle the pain was something he would run away from otherwise; that he had done everything to avoid it, and that it was one of life’s physical realities that he had refused to admit. [...]

One evening dancing, he tried consciously too hard, so that he tensed the muscles as he was trying to use them, and there was a physical result then. [...] (Pause.) Understand that the whole situation, on a very deep basis, was protective as it tried to reproduce to some extent, though to a far lesser extent, those early conditions that allowed for the controlled and disciplined growth of strong creative abilities. [...]

Fear of course was the motive behind this iron discipline. [...] He was open-hearted, rather childishly vain, the emotional pattern quickly moving from joy to tears.

Now I was not able to give you any information, particularly at that time, but this did have something to do with my rather vehement recording, which I hoped would have the effect of discouraging Dr. Instream. [...] He would have to face the problem, and if it was circumvented in one way it could have returned at a later date.

[...] Jane was dissociated as usual. [...] Jim T’s thought was that his wife could take shorthand notes of the sessions. Since she was quite young, Jim T was also concerned about her interest in the sessions, since she had not had time to develop an interest in ESP.

[...] [It is a very dark, rainy day.] This thrilling continued, till it was scarcely bearable. [...] At no time was I concerned for my own safety. The experience was amazingly pleasurable. [...] It did not ring, however, and I became aware that the time set for the trance was over.

(By 8:55 Jane was nervous as usual, though not because of the witnesses. When she began dictating her voice was quite strong and somewhat deeper, more so than usual. [...] Her pacing was rather slow, her eyes dark as usual.)

[...] Jane was dissociated as usual. [...] We discussed with Jim Tennant our reasons for our very cautious approach to and with the Seth material, stressing our feeling that it was best to be on the very conservative side as far as claims, etc., went. We invited him to attend future sessions; and it was becoming more and more apparent that we would have to make some kind of arrangement for others to be able to read the material, without letting it out of our hands. [...]

You had a brief life as twins—some definite clear-cut divisions within yourself, have to do with this life when you were one of two—one going one way, and one going the other—one twin had a strong leaning toward military things—a soldier—the organization of the church now serves the same purpose, I believe—security within the organization—the twin who was in the military found his sense of identity as a soldier within the system, but he had great faith in the system—in what he was doing—the other twin was more given to a statesman-like sort of thing—and was in fact an orator, although he had another profession—it included oration to people—the two of you had a very strong telepathic relationship—and this time the church has provided the same kind of organization—you sort of resented the fact that this twin brother of yours had this organization in which he found support and in which he felt so a part because he was absolutely certain of the aims and goals of the organization and he was a good soldier within it—and at that time you envied him that security and that sense of identity within the system in which he believed. [...] The other brother was battling for what the organization wanted, and served the organization well—you are now battling the things the organization wants and you feel the division—this division is bringing up memories subconsciously, in this past life where there was this division between you and your brother. [...]

Fourteenth-Century France—riding academy—saw riding accident by an academy when you were about 14—you were held up, crippled in some way, for a couple of years—you had a brother and the brother was with you at the time of the accident. [...]

I saw a brick structure—don’t know whether or not it was a riding academy—had a very wide entrance—related to the accident mentioned before. [...]

The man who threw in his burden ahead of time was your father. [...] He was afraid of his abilities and his burdens. [...] He was afraid they would drown him. [...]

[...] I knew it was mine. The piece was in cast iron, with a soft mottled black-brown patina, densely conceived, and I liked it very much. It was perhaps two and a half feet high, hanging from a ceiling by a chain.

[...] This was just before 11:07, and the session’s end. This time, before I realized it, I was “far away” in a fashion I cannot really put into words. Suffice it to say I was seemingly miles from my physical body, briefly, without being aware of any sensation of seeing anything else— no location, etc.

[...] He was helped, for part of himself was another student, listening.

Gramacy was a psychologist and a magician, and he came to our house because he was a scientist looking for some real magic. He was a compact, dark-skinned and dark-haired person with soft brown large eyes that were kept half closed when he was being a psychologist, and turned larger, commanding and yet inviting when he was being a magician. Both his eyes and his hands were really too expressive for a scientist’s, and he tried to be a scientist even when he was being a magician — perhaps then most of all.

[...] And Seth’s voice was jovial, booming, you didn’t have to strain to hear those words. There was no prepared message either. We hadn’t known that Gramacy was a scientist until he told us that night, and it was as a magician rather than as a scientist that Seth addressed him, telling him to trust his dramatic and imaginative flair.

[...] He bowed his dark head for just a moment then lifted it, those soft eyes now … softer and harder at the same time; his hands moved in rhythm with the music; his whole body was a marvel of motion; shoulders, head, arms, chest — his whole trunk, responding to the music. [...] He was in a trance of his own; so were Rob and I, watching. And in the back of his mind was the improbable hope that one day, somehow, the coins would really go through the tabletop. [...]

I replied, “Haven’t you ever known that someone was going to call you, just a moment before the party actually called on the phone? [...]

(Several times this morning while we were working Jane mentioned that she was receiving flashes from Seth about a particular subject—the refrigerator in our bathroom. Seth had, she said, just realized this situation and was quite upset.

[...] The bath is very large, an ornate and tiled affair that was once the master bath of the house before it was converted into apartments.

(She was also concerned because she thought her subconscious might be playing tricks on her, using the Seth approach to problems she or we should solve on our own. [...] Throughout the brief session her voice was normal and her pace slow. [...]

The seemingly unfortunate suggestion that I made to Ruburt was made for your own benefit, not mine. This short session would not even be necessary except that I was not sure if you would consider the suggestion as legitimate if I did not give it in a normal manner, or should I say a formal manner.

(Tonight at session time the small television set on its swivel arm was on, opposite Jane’s left knee. [...] The television picture was on but the sound was off. [...] Actually, I thought, this was almost an ideal time to try for a session in the hospital, for after supper she wasn’t apt to be bothered by staff people for some little time. [...]

[...] Her Seth voice was deeper than her usual voice to some extent, but it wasn’t loud, and I was sure no one would notice anything unusual sound-wise from the hall outside the closed door of room 330. [...]

[...] It was too much: Peg and Bill dropping in like that during a break in the first Seth session we’d held in almost a year. At the same time, I was afraid the excitement of the visit would interfere with Jane resuming the session. [...]

My purpose this evening was merely to assure you of my presence, and in particular to reassure Ruburt that the sessions could continue whenever he was willing. [...]

(Then, I was in a lodge on the mountainside. [...] The setting was very posh. I was with Jean Longwell, the daughter of our friend Frank. [...]

(This dream stayed with me the whole day, so strong was its impact upon me. [...] I told Jane I also felt that Jean was somehow dissatisfied in life, perhaps confused, perhaps caught between her artistic leanings and her upbringing to lead the more conventional life — working at the hospital, and so forth. [...] Yesterday Frank had told me that it wouldn’t be as easy to see Jean now that it was a 15-hour drive instead of just running down to Washington DC.

(The day was amazingly warm — over 43 — as I drove to 330 after leaving my own typewriter at the service franchise. [...] I felt it was significant.

The dream signified your knowledge that Ruburt was being cleared of negative connotations in relationship to his father. On the other hand, the young Del was also a symbol for your own inner self, acting as a guide and companion.

[...] Ruburt was aware of this on one level. He also felt that this was the main reason why you had nothing to do with class, refused even once to attend it. You felt it was depriving you, not only of, say, a private session if Ruburt did not hold the following regular one; you also felt that the sexual activity you were not getting from Ruburt was being channeled instead psychically where you were getting no benefit. To use this energy in private sessions was all right because it was a joint performance, a private one, and you both directly benefited.

He did it precisely for that reason, although he was not consciously aware that he was trying to bring the problem out into the open. [...] Therefore when you had relations you nicely and symbolically, with beautiful unconscious irony, made sure that they happened when you wanted them least, either on a scheduled basis or when one or you was tired, or when there was every good possibility to believe that you might be interrupted.

He also to some degree was angry at me, as a male. He partially identified some of my traits with some of yours, so if he was mad at you for telling him, literally to his way of thinking, to hurt himself five times a day by getting up and down from the floor, he was twice as mad at me.

So when you said “You do not try to help yourself,” he was so angry he was nearly speechless. [...] It was much more important to take a walk when he did not feel good than when he did.

(In a few moments I seemed to visualize a pyramid shape that was based on pictures I remembered of the actual structures in Egypt. This was very pleasant. [...] This image, on a slight angle, was probably more subjective than objective. Then I seemed to feel a deep ringing gong-type sound, one that was rather prolonged. It was repeated several times. [...]

[...] Sue was one of my pupils. I was quite a taskmaster, I’m told. Jane and I would like to hold a session to learn more about this life, including who else we know was involved then, etc. [...]

[...] The chanting was over here.” [...] Jane’s gestures thus indicated the large open center area of the room, as though she was reaching over a wall almost. [...] Seth didn’t tell me anything like this was going to happen.”

[...] Jane opened hers, and I could see that Seth was present. [...] It was as though I could see this shape especially well while listening to the gong sound, which was quite prolonged actually. [...]

(The session was held this evening with the chance that it might be interrupted. One of the tenants in the house had finally located a man with a plow, who was due to clear the area at 9 PM this evening. Everybody in the house was to chip in to pay him. We decided to go ahead with the session anyhow, on the chance the man with the snowplow did not show up, or was late.

(The 30th envelope test was held during the session. [...] I was aware that there wouldn’t be much emotional charge connected with these, and Seth was too. [...]

(By the time the landlord realized we couldn’t shovel our own way out, he couldn’t get his own plow into the driveway, nor could he hire help; everyone was busy. I was working overtime at my job also. [...] Then yesterday morning it developed that the thermostaton the furnace was not working; we got up to a cold house, and this led to more telephone messages, the calling of a specialist, etc.

(The session was held again in our front room. [...] Her voice was average, her pace quite slow by comparison. [...]

[...] Jane was dissociated as usual. [...] He did confirm however, the presence of a green and white boat that was anchored out in the bay, and in view from the front room of Larry O’Toole’s cottage. It was, he said, perhaps a fifteen-foot cabin-type speedboat, and might have had something in it; on this point Bill was not sure. The top of the boat was green, the bottom white. He also remembered a green rowboat that was anchored out in front of the house. [...]

[...] Jane was dissociated as usual. She remembered the blocking; she was, she said, afraid she would make a mistake—especially in the beginning of the session. When I said the session was well under way by now, Jane pointed out that her definition of the beginning includes all material given up until and including first break.

There was a green boat, tied, that was not empty, but had bulky shapes in it, and some dark material. A bit away, and low, and with no motor, that was used twice a week and on one other designated day. [...]

[...] Jane was dissociated as usual, and said she was not conscious of the point when the dialogue began, taking off from our discussion after the first ending of the session. My writing hand was quite tired.)

(I was so startled and shocked that I came to instantly. I was shaking with amazement. The voice was very impatient in tone. As I snapped to I was answering it aloud, but cannot remember what I was saying. The sound of the voice was very loud—it scared me as a sudden loud sound will. I had the feeling that I could have asked more and that it would have been answered, but this was right after I came to. I regretted coming to, as the answer I received was the kind that makes you want to ask more questions.

[...] It was loud and unmistakable, with a voice-like sound in it also. I knew very well that I’d turned the radio off, but I was tempted to get up and check, and under ordinary circumstances would have done so. [...] Later I checked the radio and it was indeed turned off. Today after I got up I checked the radio and it was turned off also.

[...] I seemed to pick it up with my ears like a very loud garbled static; and this voice, a man’s, was distinguishable amid the static, and formed it somehow. The static was like a bubbling in my ears, from within. [...] The voice was definitely independent, another person’s, not my own; nor was the thought my own.

[...] I was rather tired this morning but began work on my ESP book as usual. [...] encounter in the chapter I was working on. At 9:55 I turned the radio off in the front room where I was working, and leaving the doors open between the front room and the bedroom, I lay down.

[...] In the episode of interest here, I saw myself back in the first century A.D.: I was an officer of rather high rank in a Roman legion, and I was aboard a small galley in the Mediterranean Sea. I knew that I was on official military business for a land-based armed force, even though I was on ship. [...] Given Seth’s concept of simultaneous time, I thought I might have glimpsed another existence — whether a reincarnational one or a probable one — that I was living now.

(At noontime that Friday, then, Jane told me that she was going into another altered or enhanced state of consciousness. [...] Even though her state of awareness was still growing, Jane decided that she wanted to ride downtown with me after we’d finished eating; I planned to pick up one of our typewriters at a repair shop, then buy some groceries. Already she was so “loose” that she noticed an unsteadiness in her walking. [...] She was enchanted.

And: “Qualitatively, the [supermarket plaza] was so different than usual that I could hardly believe it. [...] I knew that each person I saw had free will, and yet each motion was inevitable and somehow there was no contradiction. I could look at each person and sense his or her ‘model’ and all the variations, and see how the model was here and now in the person. [...]

[...] He was simultaneously himself here in this living room, watching the image of himself in a library room, and he was the self in the library. [...] Before him he saw a wall of books, and the self in the living room suddenly knew that his purpose here in this reality was to re-create some of those books. He knew that he was working at both levels. [...]

[...] Jane was dissociated as usual. [...] By now my writing hand had tired, and Jane was quite tired. It had been one of those sessions that really took something out of her; she had, she said, felt that Seth was pushing the material through.)

(Then I was inside the house we intend to buy. I was facing two men in work clothes; one of them was dark and I believe unshaven. [...]

(Later, I was watching Jane and my mother. Jane was to my left, Mother to my right. Between them on the wall was a drawing of Jane’s, matted in a gray-white matte perhaps three inches wide. [...]

[...] It was stronger in the right leg and foot, equal in the arms. [...] It was similar to a tight or squeezing sensation, and definite enough so there was no doubt as to its existence.

[...] (See Jane’s notes at the beginning of the last session.) Everything was gray. The immediate nature of full-blast sense data was missing. Vision was clear but spotty, highly selective. Motion was, however, the strongest sense element. Ruburt was bodiless on the one hand, and on the other he perceived some of the experience through the eyes of an infant in a carriage.

Individuation, however, was dependent upon the cooperation of individuals. As the ego learned to feel more secure, the cooperative tendencies broadened so that the growth of nations was possible. It was inevitable, however, that ego consciousness would produce a reality in which it would finally need, in those terms, to accept other data and information that in the beginning it had to ignore.

The child was himself in the past on the one hand, and yet he was a probable future self in that past. [...] He had no conscious memories of the store’s interior, yet it was instantly apparent to him — the dark oiled floor, spread with sawdust. [...]

[...] While your particular kind of consciousness was developing, it began to intensify selectivity, to concentrate specifically in a small area of activity while blocking out other data. This was necessary because the particular kind of physical manipulation of corporal existence required instant physical response to immediately present stimuli.

(She added: “Now I don’t know whether the hospital experience was worth it or not.” We agreed her energy wasn’t any better than it had seemed before she went in, but at least Dr. Kardon’s treatment was supposed to be in the process of remedying that. [...]

[...] I was going to record some memories that suddenly came to me yesterday morning. Of the last few months or so I spent at my mother’s house—when she called me time after time during those spring and summer months of 1950: she wanted her pillows turned, she cried out in rage and pain—and here I was some 30 years later, calling out to Rob (voice breaking) to move my pillows or raise my head. [...]

[...] I was afraid she’d fall on the floor. She was taken directly to the hospital when I called the doctor, and I went back home to that odd, nervous house that felt strangely vacant with her presence gone. [...]

(11:28.) I had told her a few days before the suicide attempt that I was leaving. [...] We had a salesman who used the place as a business address, and he was there that night. [...]