“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(The following material is taken from notes I made at the time, and memory. It wasn’t recorded because we weren’t prepared. Jane spoke too rapidly much of the time for verbatim notes also. Consequently what is cited isn’t in order, either, although this doesn’t seem important in this case. “We were called Zaphorites then, “ Jane said. “I feel like yelling and kicking.” She kicked my foot very lightly. I was prepared if she did go into a rage, but this didn’t develop. “I was part of that cult Seth told you about last time...you know where it was. You really had no use for me or for yourself, while we were together,” she said. “You hated yourself but you couldn’t stay away from me.”

(Jane displayed mild symptoms of anger and resentment, which grew somewhat more vehement at times. She also smiled. “Why, that’s where Sumari came from. Don’t you see? I sang and I danced.” In here she sang some Sumari songs. I thought them especially beautiful. They weren’t loud but very melodious and softly syllabled. In between the songs she spoke to me in Sumari. During these episodes I could follow the meanings quite easily; ritual was involved, as well as passion. Listening, I felt a marked regret, and wondered that this other life had seemingly assumed such a strong place in our “own” lives. I asked Jane about this later.

(“You chose your father in this life because in many ways you were like him as Nebene. And I chose my mother, who turned out crippled, for similar reasons, I guess. You also picked your father so you could watch a family situation under those terms, because you knew you weren’t going to have any children in this life. And your father wasn’t nearly as anxious to have children as you might have thought, either, this time....”

Forgot: during night my stomach muscles right side lower suddenly relaxed & felt fantastic—I didn’t realize they weren’t relaxed before—then left side of my groin itched & all the flesh went soft & relaxed (and sort of flabby).

[...] All I recall was bewilderment that the world and everyone in it thought that the events were taking place now, while they weren’t in my time scheme at all. [...]

[...] Psychic matters weren’t stressed, and counterpart ideas weren’t even mentioned. [...]

[...] Of course we had no idea of what all those tests would cost, and weren’t billed when she was discharged, since test results weren’t in. [...]

(Two similarities between this time and last time: Although other people weren’t present as they were before, tonight Jane and I were discussing others; and I was also sipping wine [again my first small glass] like before.)

[...] Can’t remember how this worked out, but it was all right, they weren’t as sick as they looked or something.

[...] Coué was a pioneer in the study of suggestion, and wrote a book on the subject in the 1920’s. His ideas were well received in Europe at the time, but weren’t in this country to any large degree. [...]

(Her father and mother weren’t there. [...]

[...] I don’t know where she got them, in another town, but they weren’t very good. [...]

[...] There weren’t many windows anyhow. [...]

[...] If there weren’t some vital differences, we’d end up repeating this scenario over again and again.... [...]

[...] The feelings I was getting went even further, that religion or science or whatever weren’t attempts to discover truth—but to escape from doing so, to substitute some satisfying tale or story instead. [...]

[...] Recently Jane and I found it the height of irony that Begin and Sadat were jointly awarded the Nobel Peace Prize—evidently, we sarcastically concluded, because after thirty years of fighting Israel and Egypt weren’t shooting at each other—at least for the moment.

[...] I wondered aloud why other brilliant men weren’t around who questioned people like Hebb and Jastrow, who told them their ideas were severely limited and distorted, who made a case for the kind of thinking Jane and I believed in. [...]

[...] They weren’t very strong—but once the habit was set I wore glasses without protest for the next 40 years or so. [...] At the same time, I avoided giving myself the negative suggestion that my eyes still weren’t perfect, even with my improving beliefs.

[...] Some of them talked about her right in front of her as though she weren’t there—and, Jane said, with her hearing still much impaired at that time, she almost felt as though she wasn’t there.

[...] Somebody at the hospital —I forget who—told us that joint replacements for the fingers and/or knuckles usually weren’t all that successful: The bones in the hands were pretty small and delicate. [...]

[...] That was it for the day, although we weren’t sure of it at the time. [...]

(“I had something from him [Seth] earlier,” she said, “but you weren’t here....” [...]

[...] Things weren’t clear, she said, just less blurred. [...]

[...] It told me once that this time taxes weren’t involved. [...]

[...] “If it weren’t for the mail I’d try three sessions a week, but you can’t type any more.”

[...] If you weren’t they’d still be buried.” [...]