“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] I was engaged in a contest to see if I could help Jane get ready for bed, set the alarm and the electric blanket, turn out the bedroom lights and open the curtains and a window—all before I gave out in a heap on the bed. [...] [I’d injured the shoulder last summer while pulling on the starting cord for the lawn mower; it’s bothered me ever since, although not steadily.] The pain was intense, although not as bad when I’d first hurt the muscle. I struggled to rouse myself enough so I could take pressure off the arm; I was afraid I’d re-injured it. So even in that state of deep relaxation, in which I could move only with effort and concentration, I learned something that I fully realized at the time: Even though I was far out on a “trip” of some sort, I could still feel pain. My muscles weren’t magically healing themselves, nor was I undergoing any kind of overall healing that might confound my own beliefs, or those of medical science. Not that I’d thought I was....

[...] My condition became so totally relaxed that any conscious and deliberate movement was forgotten unless I made a strong effort to exert myself—to pick up a piece of paper, to lay this notebook on the coffee table, say. [...] Jane was obviously concerned. [...] This was easily the most complete experience of its kind I’d ever known, and it was deepening.

(But nevertheless, I knew I was having a most beneficial experience, and one that might very well head off other, deeper troubles. [...] It was impossible for me not to believe it, considering that I’d felt so poorly since early in the month, and that I was so much better right now. I just hoped more beneficial results would flow from the experience, and I was appalled that I’d been that badly off, that “tight,” so that my body greatly needed such a drastic kind of relief.

[...] In the meantime though as I went into the john, I started to pick up some of the things Seth was going to discuss, and after Rob began his odd relaxation, I got more. As best as I could I told Rob what I was getting. We decided not to have the session—I don’t think Rob could have taken notes anyhow; besides I wanted him to take advantage of what was happening.

(I asked Jane why she was allowing this material to come through now, but she didn’t know. I had been getting very angry lately however so I felt this was a prime reason. I was terribly depressed, at least briefly. I grimly promised Jane that there were going to be changes; and this was to not at all minimize my own role in this problem—it was merely my stated vehement desire that this madness come to an end, that I was ready for a change, and demanded one.)

[...] My hand was tired. I was absolutely appalled by the material. It was an extension of insights we had been discussing lately, but to see it all neatly arrayed together was devastating. [...]

When your communication system did fall down, the situation was at its worst for him. At an unconscious level he felt he was doing what was right, that you should approve of it, that despite the inconvenience and the physical soreness he was sticking to his guns.

[...] The tendency then was there. [...] The body was not strong, therefore. [...] He trusted his mind, so the idea of retreating from the body into the mind was quite logical to him when this began. [...]

In a previous life he was your son by blood. [...] He came back to tell you there was no death—you would not listen, hear or believe. This time he came back and was a son to you. [...] He came to tell you there was no death. [...] This was his last reincarnation. [...]

[...] There was a girl in that past life. [...] There was an afternoon in this life between 4 and 5 years old, and this child visited with her parents. [...] She was his wife in the past life, when he died at 32. [...] Death by water in those days was an honor, death by land a disgrace. [...]

[...] Main purpose was with you for you had been mother. Death was instantaneous. There was some recognition on your part. [...]

There was in past life connection with your brother. He was also connected with you and the boy. The brother in this life was the blood father as you were blood mother. [...]

It was only after this dream that the knowledge that the woman had died of cancer was allowed to emerge. The fact that Ruburt experienced in the dream, or following it, no sense of either fateful predestination or even fear, was a tip-off that the dream was not clairvoyant in terms of a future prediction.

[...] In it she was aware of an old woman, but not of her personal presence, of 83 or 85. The old woman had just died, yet her last day was filled with activity and work. She was a medium, and she passed from life to death with a smooth transition, continuing her work almost without interruption after death. [...]

(Jane was also concerned because of what she considers the poor session of September 9, when she was so affected by outside conditions. She was not nervous before tonight’s session, however.

[...] Jane was fairly well dissociated, and had no sense of being bothered by outside stimuli. However, since it was a cold evening our windows were closed, and the house itself was very quiet. [...]

[...] Jane was on her knees before the recorder; we had found a strong passage. [...] The transition was so smooth that it was a moment before John and I realized we were no longer listening to the tape. Jane’s voice was strong from the beginning.)

Rob then said it was an experiment in self-hypnosis for my next book. This certainly was no lie, and the Taylors seemed to accept the explanation. John was having trouble keeping a straight face. [...] By then it was past midnight.

[...] It was a hot and humid night and our living room windows were of course open. Seth was obviously enjoying himself, and I was very active physically as I spoke for him. [...]

[...] I was afraid that the neighbors would wonder what was going on, and as it turned out my fears were justified. As Seth was speaking a knock came at our door. [...]

(The session was held in our small back room. [...] Her pace was rather slow, with many pauses, yet her voice was somewhat stronger than usual. [...] She was not smoking. [...]

(“A lack of discretion” is of particular interest to Jane and me, since this is a most apt description of a situation Roy Fox was involved in during that February, 1965, and for several months before and after that month. The situation was common knowledge, so no confidences are violated to say that at the time Roy was keeping company with a woman who was separated from her husband, but not divorced. [...]

(Harris Hill Inn was closed on Monday, February 1,1965, and Jane and I met the proprietor there Monday evening and hung the paintings. [...] If this information was misplaced in the earlier Gallagher material, then what accounts for it? It appeared in the Gallagher material before the envelope test was held, and of course Jane could not know what the envelope test object was beforehand, by ordinary means. [...]

[...] Her eyes remained closed, The candle was to her right, approximately at right angles to her body as she sat facing forward. Remember she could not see the candle in any event, since it was hidden behind books, and that the room was well lighted. [...] The candle was some three feet away from her, and well away from any draft possibly created by her breath, for instance.

[...] In that dimension therefore Ruburt was aware of both presences. He was perceiving the greater dimensions of the physical class event. In those terms Pat, who did not attend the physical class, attended a probable one; and Carol, who was not present for the end of the official class, was a participant in the probable one.

Carol was downhearted, and wanted to give herself a present. [...] That was on her mind as she fell asleep. She visited here, then, out-of-body, and was perceived by Ruburt, who was in an out-of-body state himself. [...]

Then he realized that his body was sleeping. [...] The monkey was not free, but on a leash —the psyche’s interpretation, in other terms, of material involving the class discussion about inoculations. The monkey was not free because it had been inoculated with diseased tissue, yet the doctor hoped to keep the disease in control, or leashed, through measured inoculations. [...]

[...] Ruburt was out-of-body, as he knows, and in that state he was perceiving the greater dimensions of the class event, and trying to correlate this with ordinary class perception. [...]

As with so many instances, these weren’t esoteric startling visions, but a kind of in-between event, difficult to identify, or one like the following, that was second-handed. [...] Rob grinned when he saw him; John had been here twice before (once a year), he was good-humored, good-looking, eager, healthy and strong. He was engaging, and knew it. We talked to him for an hour (while, alas, dinner got cold), but he was one of those people pleasantly gifted in a variety of fields who hadn’t yet settled down to concentrate on the development of any one or two abilities in particular. He was like some kid admiring a box of chocolates; each piece representing one of his own talents, wondering which piece to nibble on first. [...]

There were several other themes floating about our lives … Sue Watkins’ new book Conversations with Seth about my E.S.P. classes was to appear in the fall. A vague uneasiness was growing in my mind: It seemed that Prentice-Hall was taking unusually long to officially clear The God of Jane and Seth’s The Individual and the Nature of Mass Events. [...] In the meantime the pesty fleas continued their household tyranny and all of this was somehow wrapped around a ribbon of excitement as we watched the Democrats and Republicans battle on the news just before we left for our respective work rooms.

[...] No wonder — he’d met her at a bar the first time he was in town. [...] She was walking on the sidewalk, and sure enough, it was the same girl I’d met at a bar during my first trip to Elmira. [...]

[...] “Though I should stay in one,” I said, “because I was more comfortable than I’ve been all day.” [...] Returning to my usual state of consciousness I was instantly hot again.

Communication, in fact, was one of their strongest points, and it was developed to such a high degree simply because they feared violence so deeply and were constantly on the alert. [...] Contact between children and parents was at a very high level, and children were acutely uncomfortable if out of the sight of their parents for any amount of time.

[...] In one way this was a highly stylized art, and yet it allowed for both great preciseness of expression in terms of detail, and great freedom in terms of scope. It was obviously highly compressed. This technique was later discovered by the third civilization, and some of the remnants of drawings done in imitation of it still exist. [...]

[...] For this reason there was an easy distinction between what was called inner sight and outer sight, and it was quite natural for them to close their eyes when seated in conversation in order to communicate more clearly, enjoying the ever-changing and immediate inner images that accompanied any verbal interchange.

(10:41.) They learned quickly, and education was an exciting process, because this multisensuous facility automatically impressed information upon them not simply through one sense channel at a time but utilizing many simultaneously. For all this, however, and the immediacy of their perceptions, there was an inherent weakness. [...] Energy was blocked in these areas so that they actually lacked a forceful quality or sense of power.

10. I gave up my commitment to commercial art in 1953, when I was 34 years old. [...] This was the last commercial work I was to do for some time; I finally understood that I was simply more interested in painting pictures than in doing anything else. Since I believe that each of us creates our own reality in the most precise terms, it can hardly be a coincidence that at this time of decision my friend introduced Jane and me — for she was just as devoted to writing as I was to painting.

Ruburt’s mother knew that the child could be taken away were it proven that she was an unfit mother in any way, or unable to give the child proper care. Well over a year before this picture was taken, in fact, Ruburt was sent to a Catholic home.⁵ There, unconventional thought was not tolerated. The inflexibility of dogma conscientiously applied to daily action was experienced, and within it Ruburt tried to apply himself and to focus his deeply mystical nature.*

[...] This experience of his was taking time from your art as well as his own, to his way of thinking. [...] Ruburt was determined to go ahead (louder) — he was also determined to keep the old structures and to ignore the cracks in them. In part his loyalty to you was connected, and his responsibility as he saw it to keep you focused as an artist, and to let nothing distract you. Yet here he was distracting you.

[...] The religious background was there. At his preference and demand, he changed from a public to a Catholic school after the third grade.⁴ This was against his mother’s judgment. [...] He put up such a fuss, Ruburt, and held such temper tantrums, that permission was given. He was stubborn even then.

He thought you discouraged deep conversation unless there was some crisis that brought about a confrontation. [...] The fears finally became so charged that all normal discussion was out of the question. [...] Their charge was so strong that he felt you were as frightened of them as he was, and therefore to discuss them would threaten you also.

He could not give himself well in your personal intimate relations because it was with you most of all that he had to watch his expression. The fears had to be kept away from you or the game was up. [...] He thinks fears are an admission of helplessness, that you always wanted someone who was free and independent, and that you would have no use for anyone in that position.

When Rebellers was published your attitude was a poor one, but it was drastically received by our friend, who could not understand it and felt then and there that you no longer loved him as you had. [...]

[...] He was ashamed to look to anyone for help. He is afraid to ask for help because he was ashamed that his mother had to ask him, a child, for help, and often he hated her for doing so.

[...] Jane’s temperature was 98.9. I read her the sessions for February 1, 6, and 7. She said her eyes do bother her. [...] I suggested she have a session soon if she was going to, regardless of whether her blood pressure still had to be taken. Once again the window was open and the curtains closed because of the very bright sun. [...]

Joe has recovered from a serious heart condition, of course — and if you will excuse me, that was the heart of the matter. Here you saw Jane, or Ruburt, as well-recovered as was Joe. It was as if you had taken in your neighbor Joe to serve as a case in point. [...]

[...] The girl told me that one of the checks I’d deposited for Jane’s hospital fund wasn’t for $1000, as we’d both thought — but was instead for $1 million. I was totally surprised at the news. [...] The clerk said she was, that we’d miscounted the zeroes before. [...]

[...] I was amazed at the way her body was still trying to right itself after all of these years. [...]

With the dream book he tried to do something he did not consider artistic, and was unable to do it. He believed in the book’s ideas, but the artistic framework for him was not right. When it was rejected my book was developing. [...]

The sex was denied on a physical level to a large extent, as he read so-called psychic books. [...] He found his physical age frightening for a while, and was therefore not able to use the experience gained with age. To give up the youthful ideas was to admit that he was no longer the young writer.

In the light of that picture improvement was not reasonable, not to be expected. What was projected finally however was your complete statement that you no longer agreed with the methods, that you would no longer go along with them, and this was to the good.

[...] For many reasons then he was convinced that his course was correct. His methods began to alarm him, but even when they did, and he realized that he was making a bargain of a sort, he still believed in the premise that made a bargain necessary.

She was an activist, so you tried to become the opposite. Now then: on the one hand you attempted to be virile by identifying with your father, yet he was also to you the symbol of a failure. To be a failure therefore was virile (as my pendulum told me).

She was highly imaginative. [...] Ruburt was literal-minded in many respects. [...] The background of Ruburt’s personality was unfortunate, and fortunate.

[...] He knew intuitively that he was a psychic. He was also highly anxious to succeed, and knew that he was not doing so.

(Jane’s pace was on the slow side this evening; her voice however was good, her eyes open often.)

(The session was held in our front room, and was free of interruptions or distractions. It was obvious that Jane was in a good mood before the session, and Seth reflected this. Jane began speaking while sitting down and with her eyes closed; her pace was quite fast, her voice definitely stronger and more active than usual. [...]

It was not however your general behavior that made this difference, but a particular remark which was addressed I believe to the meeting at large; and which was a tip-off to your dissatisfaction, and which in some way was aimed particularly, he believed, at your immediate superior.

(John was now considering trying to locate the woman, to check up on Seth. He was joking, yet perhaps serious also. He was curious however, and was talking about whether he should really make the attempt when Jane resumed in a good voice, and with her eyes closed at 10:50.)

[...] As he walked out to his mailbox he felt certain the letter was there. It was; it did confirm that he had been given a raise by the company. The raise was totally unexpected, he told us. [...]

In reference to my book’s theme now, the basic dilemma as well as its reasons and development, was quite available in Ruburt’s conscious mind all of that time. He chose not to deal with it however because he was not ready to face the problem, he did not feel himself capable. He was not ready to make the move.

[...] It was necessary and served a purpose. One purpose was his realization that such a book, for now, even at his best, with personal orientation, was not his cup of tea. [...]

[...] Ruburt was upset with the psychic reputation, not because it was psychic but because it was not the one he wanted. [...]

[...] He was ready to face the problem, to bring it out into the open, and the whole issue was finally brought out into the open through those symptoms. [...]

He thought the clothing was on sale, that it was cheap at the price, but it only seemed so because he did not know that he had already paid for it. Here he found an excellent jacket which he realized was his own from a previous season. The jacket was green and warm. [...]

In the dream however I was a young man with olive skin, from a previous existence. That is, it was myself in a previous existence. [...] This time however the intended vote of confidence was given emotionally, through smiling gestures and so forth.

[...] The bank was covered with brightly colored high grass and weeds. [...] The path was worn down to the bare earth. We were barefoot, and now I saw that the path was littered with pieces of broken glass. [...]

[...] She was ironing at the time, and pleasant music was on the radio. [...]

It sounds ridiculous, but I knew that this thing was “out to get me.” I knew that I was out of my body, and I was overwhelmed with astonishment, as well as very frightened. [...] So what was it? [...] It was amazingly oppressive, and kept up its efforts to drag me farther away from my body into the bedroom closet.

[...] In any case, I wasn’t in my physical body, and he probably wouldn’t know anything was wrong anyhow. And where was Seth? [...] I was very conscious of the creature’s weight, which was really amazing, and its intent—which was to maul me up as much as possible, if not to kill me outright.

[...] One, occurring shortly after our sessions began, really frightened me because I was afraid that it might be precognitive, I dreamed that I was an old woman in a very poor hospital ward of some kind. I was dying of cancer and knew it, but wasn’t a bit frightened. An old man beside me was also about to die. [...] I helped the old man out of his body and kept telling him that everything was all right.

[...] On one level the knowledge was available to the man himself. [...] It was a vivid possibility. It was also one of many solutions to several problems. While it was not the most suitable solution, it was the closest man could come at that particular time in physical reality. [...]

(“I don’t know whether he left me or not,” she said, “but suddenly I was me and all this was going on. It was fantastic. I was so completely enveloped by it ... [...] I was so aware of everything in the room, but my eyes were closed all the time. [...]

[...] As expected the voice was quite high, clearly enunciating, seemingly distant and sexless; quite removed from any emotional immediacy. [...] Her pace was rather fast comparatively. As usual this new voice ended sentences on an unexpected upbeat, so that often a sentence was finished and a new one begun while I was writing without appropriate punctuation; then I would go back and add it in the proper places.

[...] It was not meant to be unpleasant. (Pause.) This was his subjective interpretation. First he was involved in a microscopic adventure. [...]

(Before the session began I asked Jane to comment on two points made in the last session: The 442nd session was held on Monday, October 14. [...] The royalty check was expected later in the year. [...]

[...] Since the first session on Seth’s book (the 679th) was held — and before we knew it was a book — I’ve been getting material on it in my sleep after each session. [...] Last night was different in some way, though now I remember hardly anything. [...] The material was on probabilities. I think I saw some of it written down — was I writing it? Anyway, I was getting too much of it at once. [...]

“Now I do recall something: I was getting a whole bunch of material and it was multidimensional. I was confused. [...] It was here that I got angry and woke myself up. As I opened my eyes, I realized that the material hadn’t been given yet in ‘Unknown’ Reality — though in the sleep state I was sure it had been.

[...] The blurring is — was — also necessary to aid in distinguishing another reality from the normally accepted one, particularly in the beginning of such activity. He was tuning into probable neurological materializations … that are ghost images inherent in the normal nervous structure … latent connections biologically part of the cells’ realities. He was moving into other selectivities. [...]

[...] Yet I was also aware of the same kind of reluctance I’d felt in the sleep state last night; as if I was trying to do something … difficult, or translate information that was more distant than usual from our ordinary concepts. [...]