“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] There was also another child—and that child will be G’s husband in this life. [...] Your mother was a very heavy-handed father to you in that existence. Your father has now strong feminine traits because in Boston in an immediately past life there was a woman—give us a moment—the first name was also Lillian. The last name—your vice-president to the contrary—was Agnew. [...]

(Jane called back to me that she was all right during a break, and this and my waking up served to end the session. Jane said she felt it was a good session, an unusual occasion to get some new ideas, so she went along with Seth and his entity. She also knew the whole session was being recorded.)

[...] The child (Sean) was a girl—1432—France—and at one time your sister—strong literary abilities—some interest in music—should not be pampered for the personality is already given to indulgence. There may be an allergy to wheat—early in life—was also known to this one here in Spain—the country now called Spain—in 801 as an uncle—then a warrior-type personality—but again given to indulgence. [...]

([Theodore:] “The one I thought was Bega was actually Ruburt.”)

[...] I said it certainly was close to it. It was much better than many people ever do. [...]

(We searched through If We Live Again, looking for a certain poem she’d written in January 1980, in connection with a session I’m typing for Dreams, but when we found the poem it was not the one we wanted. [...] I was also curious to get some material from Seth on child prodigies, relevant to an atticle I’d just read at the house. [...]

(Jane had engaged in her spontaneous actions re 458 in response to Seth’s suggestions in the last session—that she imagine others complementing her on how well she was doing, and so forth. [...]

(Today was another quiet day for us. [...]

[...] Seth had said then that the dream was legitimate, and that it meant the source of the checks was far away—upstate New York. My own interpretation, I told Jane now, was the same is it had been then—that since the checks looked so small, it meant they weren’t that physically close to us yet—in other words, a waiting period was involved in which, hopefully, they’d move closer and closer to us. [...]

[...] I told Jane that we may never hear from Blue Cross, since they’ve already turned down the claim once because the hospital was late in sending them her medical records. [...] But I did go over the whole story with Jane to some extent, so she’d know what I was concerned about. [...]

(Jane’s Seth voice was rather quiet. She wanted to answer my questions, although she started rather later; I was beginning to think she would pass up a session today.)

(Jane was already on her back when I got to 330 this afternoon; Gail Greene had had to turn her in order to check the catheter, which at first had refused to irrigate. [...]

[...] Jane was dissociated as usual. [...] She was now quite tired, and remarked that for the state she was in at the start of the session she had to be “out, all the way,” to be able to give any session at all. My writing hand was also tired.)

[...] Jane was far-out, fully dissociated. She said that Seth was ready to continue. The pace had been so fast that my writing hand was beginning to feel it. [...]

[...] Jane was dissociated as usual. Her voice was a little hoarse at the close of the delivery, though she said she did not feel very tired. My writing hand was fatigued however. [...]

[...] Jane began dictation on time; her delivery was slow at first, then speeded up; her pacing was slow also, her eyes dark as usual.)

[...] The arm motions were almost as though Jane was leading an orchestra. [...] I had a sense that the arm was moving almost by itself, somewhat uncoordinated, as if searching for its role with the body, or relearning for itself what it was for, what it could do. [...]

[...] It was easy to turn her on her back, though, and she eventually ate an excellent lunch. [...]

[...] It was another great sign, I told her.

[...] Abruptly Jane began flopping her head and rotating her left arm, holding the elbow up in the air, so vigorously that she cried out that she was getting dizzy. [...]

It was afraid that psychic endeavor would leave it open for further scorn, and it would not for a while allow ordinary motion, until it was somewhat assured that it would not meet with contempt for its efforts. It was particularly afraid of ridicule, rather say than of hatred. [...] The school was the college again, you see, and the academic community that had already rejected him as a student in the past. [...]

The psychic influence of the other priests was far more creative than he realizes, and it was always in the realm of ideas that he rebelled against authority. [...] Inside that framework he learned what was wrong with it, and from his experiences was born the strong inner, barely conscious, desire to help his fellow beings emerge into some kind of lucidity. [...]

He felt that the professor was bringing his students to show them he was a fraud. His sense of duty was actually a coverup. He knew he did not want the people here, and thought he was a coward. [...]

Now on one occasion he did very well, although he picked up strong ideas from you of a negative nature, and this incident, in time, was connected with the college affair. [...] He did surmount them you see, and the interview was creative.

(Dr. Instream said that Jane was in a light trance during her delivery, and that automatic speech was involved. [...] This was also one of the subjects we had discussed at lunch, leading of course to Seth’s subject matter in the delivery just concluded.

(Times noted indicate when Jane was in trance and when she came out of the state. When she remained in trance while Dr. Instream was speaking she listened to him intently, sitting with her eyes closed and her head cocked forward. Her voice was fairly strong as before, and very briefly at times it hit a stronger volume. [...]

[...] He said that Dr. Rhine’s sweetness had led him into traps where his controls were not rigid enough during experiments, that his disposition was of the type that would not make him crack down. On the other hand, the other director was too strict. Dr. Instream used these examples to point out how important the correct methodology was in trying to obtain proofs in psychic investigations.

(We had no real opportunity to talk with Dr. Instream until Sunday evening at his home, after the symposium was over. [...] This was to be followed by lunch with him before we left to visit my brother Bill in Rochester.

[...] Bill began scribbling notes after the session began; I was not taking any, and hadn’t planned to. Jane spoke rather rapidly and Bill couldn’t keep up verbatim-wise, but did get down most of the gist of what Seth was saying.

The cigarette was your own construction, representing your inner realization that the cigarette-smoking Ruburt was there but not present. [...]

(A short unscheduled session was held on this date, with Bill Macdonnel and his friend Joanie Gilbert as witnesses. [...]

(Bill did not indicate any month, and I do not recall if a month was mentioned for the death notice.)

[...] Polly was a rather emotional young woman, and she asked me if I could “pick up” any impressions about her. I refused, saying that I was tired. Actually I felt that she was “highly charged,” unpleasantly so, and I didn’t want to get involved. [...] I switched to my Inner Senses to find out what was wrong—but without realizing that I was doing so. [...]

At first the pain frightened me so that I just blurted out what was happening; I didn’t mean to embarrass Polly. Later I felt foolish and angry at myself, wondering if the pain episode was some kind of subconscious dramatization. [...] Before she went, she called to tell me that the episode was quite legitimate. [...] Naturally, she didn’t want anyone to know about the child, who had been put up for adoption (and it was none of my business anyway). [...]

[...] She was in a hospital bed, having labor pains. [...] The experience was exceptionally vivid, and the pain quite real. I saw an older woman and a young man in the hospital room and was able to describe them. [...]

[...] He would not lose consciousness of who he was, but would perceive these sensations somewhat in the same way that you now feel heat and cold.”

[...] “I was bothered at times.” [...] Yet as far as I could tell the material was as good as ever, the manner of her delivery unchanged.

[...] It was the kind of a storm in which even this big and solid house shook at times. Jane’s voice was still stronger than usual when she resumed, though at a slower pace, at 9:52.)

[...] Jane’s trance had been deeper, but she was surprised at the short delivery; she thought she had been out for a longer time. The rain had tapered off somewhat by now, and it was cooler. [...]

(At the end of the last session, which was held the day before yesterday, Jane told me that Seth had the rest of Chapter Ten planned; tonight, now, she said she didn’t have the slightest idea of how Seth would continue his work on the chapter.

[...] Jane was well dissociated. [...] The rain had stopped, and the humidity was high and uncomfortable. That is, I was uncomfortable, my writing hand moist and clammy. Jane was perfectly at ease, her skin quite dry and fresh. She was not at all aware of heat or humidity while delivering the material, she said, but was well aware of the conditions at break time.

[...] This was a very thrilling experience for us, and I believe for everyone else there. The music at times was literally deafening in volume, combined as it was with a large choir and a jazz band. [...]

(Tonight’s session was again held in our living room. It was an extremely hot and humid evening. Traffic noise was more audible than usual but Jane appeared unaffected. [...]

[...] Jane was fairly well dissociated for a first delivery. [...] During this delivery a very heavy rain began to fall; it was noisy, but her voice surmounted the additional noise without trouble. She was vaguely aware of the rain, she said, and of the content of the material.

(The temperature was 5 below when I got up at 6:30, but it was up to 15 when I left for 330 at 12:30. [...]

[...] The day was a beautiful balmy summer one. [...] Her strides were perfectly normal and agile; she was in excellent health.

[...] I figured there was a reason I was thinking about her this morning so definitely. [...]

[...] She gave Georgia plenty of negative suggestions while I was there: “You don’t get over something like that very quickly,” etc. [...]

(On leaving Nassau October 31, we passed a memorial, though not a statue, dedicated to Sir Harry Oakes, who was murdered. [...] [Discussion of the murder and the landmarks was one of the important parts of their trip.])

(In earlier discussion, Bill said there was a statue of Columbus and there was a connection in his mind between him and cobbling.)

[...] He was a sponge trader and made an impression on us.”)

(“Yes, there was a verandah.”)

[...] Now it is not generally known that there was a civilization at that time, rather well developed, in the southwestern corner of the continent. [...] And in one of your excursions you came upon the image of a small god, long since forgotten by that civilization, and the god was called “Marumba.” It was a small black image—something like the stereotyped Buddha image—but with several differences. The object was of ivory. [...]

Careful watch was also kept on these smaller sticks. And the time of the seasons was also known from these, and the journey of the stars across the sky. [...] And though it was your first reincarnation, you were alert. [...]

Maraba Iraqua was your name, and you put about your body the dead wings of birds and danced about the image. [...] You became known as a witch doctor, only that was not the term then. [...]

[...] reincarnation: Arnold wondered if this was his first time ever.)

(Both of us have been very busy since the last session was held. [...] “Well, since I was in trance when it was delivered, I can say that I haven’t heard it,” Jane laughed, “so that’s my excuse. [...]

During the day, Andrea was able to look at both beliefs and see them as opposing ideas that she had held about herself. She believed she was unique and good — and also that she was inferior and bad. [...]

She had wanted to leave her job for another one but was afraid of taking the step, so she created circumstances in which the decision was seemingly taken out of her hands; it would appear as if she were the victim of unfeeling co-workers, jealous and misunderstanding, and a boss who would not stand up for her.

(Pause at 9:42.) Now she understood that she was not a victim but the originator of those conditions. [...] She was lost in self-pity and self-condemnation. [...]

(10:00.) In your terms it seems that all of that had to happen before the house was put up for sale, so that Joseph, passing by only a few days ago, could see the sign and decide to look at the house. [...] So in that framework time was experienced — and using that organizational structure, time seems to unite those events.

[...] I told her I thought “Unknown” Reality was excellent. “But I’m out of it on this one,” she said, explaining that she didn’t know it well consciously, had little idea of its structure, and couldn’t particularly say what was to come in it. [...]

(We discussed the general implications of Seth’s material on my mother — that she was not only “alive” after her “death,” but that a portion of her was focused upon Jane and me. [...]

(Jane’s delivery was rather slow as the session started.)

Because of such identification with nature, the death experience, as you understand it, was in no way considered an end. The mobility of consciousness was a fact of experience. The self was not considered to be stuck within the skin. The body was considered more or less like a friendly home or cave, kindly giving the self refuge but not confining it.

(Long pause.) A person’s identity was private, in that man always knew who he was. He was so sure of his identity that he did not feel the need to protect it, so that he could expand his awareness in a way now quite foreign to you.

[...] Man understood himself to be a separate entity, but one that was connected to all of nature. [...] Yet the grandeur of the emotions was allowed full sway, and the seasons of the earth and the world were jointly felt.

(Our last session, the 775th, was not book dictation. [...]

[...] In one of them I’m on a troop train [in World War II] traveling to Karachi, India, and in the other I’m asleep in a cold barrack. I wrote in the book that ‘I was conscious of every movement, sound, and odor on the train, yet conscious that I was in a barrack that was very chilly. I was also aware that both the train and the barrack were dreams, and that my body was in the chilly tent at Leesburg, Florida.’

[...] She listened carefully, then said that “there’s something there on the dreams” — meaning that Seth was around, was aware of our conversation, and would probably comment. [...] Then, taking off her glasses, she was in trance.)

(On Wednesday, March 27, we received from Jane’s publisher the page proofs for Seth’s second book, The Nature of Personal Reality: A Seth Book.¹ No session was held that night. [...] And we told ourselves that Seth was perfectly capable of resuming work on “Unknown” Reality whenever we were ready to do so, whether the time lapse involved one week or six months.

[...] The first person I talked to was our friend Sue Watkins, who has attended ESP class almost from the time Jane started it in 1967. I was more than a little surprised when Sue said that she’d enjoyed such events several times. [...]

[...] I’d turned the heat back on, though — it was working again now, somewhat mysteriously, I thought, since no one has looked at it. [...] Maybe that too was a sign of improvement, I said. [...] Jane’s Seth voice was quieter than usual, and had a hoarse or rasping quality to a mild degree.)

[...] She said it was even more pronounced in hydro, when she lays flat and has room for the arms to reach farther down. I told her I hoped it was an early sign of the new healing and freedom Seth has been saying she’s on her way to achieving through her latest bouts of fever, her cold, and so forth.

(The day was 45 degrees and bright and sunny when I left for 330. [...]

[...] I said I was willing to forget about the health business for a while — a long while, if necessary. [...]

(John was in a rather upset and depressed mood, due to his job situation. His job was not in jeopardy, but John was restless and needed changes; at the same time he felt he was not the stereotype personality his company demanded for district managers, which position would be the next step up for John in the drug company for which he worked. [...]

(Jane was not particularly nervous this evening. [...] Her delivery was animated and fast, her pacing regular, her eyes dark as usual. She was having an animated conversation with John as 9 PM approached; when she began without the usual greetings, she flicked the recorder on.)

(By now, Jane’s delivery was strong and very animated. She was pacing rapidly; and I had to ask her to slow down a bit. I was writing as fast as I could.)

(It was of course very dark, but we could see a few lights in the valley below. The night was just right. [...] Jane had originated this idea, and she thought there was a chance Seth might come through while we were on the property, but he did not.