“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Were he not so honestly and unfortunately ill-disposed, the affair would be highly ludicrous. Last week he began and finished an excellent short story, and finished an outline, as well as holding our sessions, and beginning once more his psychological time experiments.

Monday he also worked, and the following day he did not immediately begin another story. And here we see his translation of this rather natural occurrence into tragic forebodings. No idea. And this further of course projected: no idea tomorrow, and a succession of days. But to hide from himself the dire imagined sequence he must have an excuse.

He is ill-disposed, and quite honestly so. Therefore he covers himself. If he does not get an idea tomorrow he has the excuse, anticipated, of being ill, and this also serves as a punishment. He will punish himself on any day that he does not put in his allotted hours in what he considers a constructive manner.

And incidentally, necessary business concerning the sending out of manuscripts, he does not subconsciously consider, should be considered part of his writing day.

Consciously he knows better. I will not put our session off this evening, though I may shorten it. He will learn shortly, and without any real difficulty, that while his new schedule will be, as it should be, followed with discipline, nevertheless he cannot expect a new idea every day.

Concerning our friend Ruburt, another note. And that is that there is also a quite valid inner sense of guilt here, in that he has neglected his poetry.

At least an hour a day should be devoted to it. He was utterly and completely surprised upon learning that Macmillan had nearly accepted his book of poetry. He never expected any financial rewards from poetry, and it occurred to him that in his recent neglect of it he may have been cheating himself in more ways than one.

Rather frequent informal relationships are more practical than occasional formal ones, and Ruburt is already involving himself, again, in the satisfying for him diversified household chores, which are also a break from strict mental work. Even in winter time I will suggest he take walks, and these should be for pure enjoyment. Hammering at his subconscious as he does on his few walks negates their purpose. Too much of a good thing. After all, his subconscious would like some rest too. He is such a hammerhead in this respect.

We should have a balance here, and he must allow room for spontaneity. He remembers his early lack of discipline in working matters, but he is well disciplined now. On session nights particularly his working day is elongated, and regardless of my efforts there is some physical and mental strain involved, though these are greatly minimized.

His subconscious will provide all the spontaneous ideas that he needs for his own work, but he cannot sit it in a corner, lecture it, and demand very definite specific tasks. His subconscious knows better than he does consciously what particular means should be used to gain a desired end. It does not need minute by minute instructions.

I would not take up session time for this material except that my suggestions, if followed, will be most helpful. Also to him a note: even his adolescent, seemingly-undisciplined times were disciplined, giving notice of continuing ego strength, balanced and sometimes over-balanced by intuitional development, in that he never ceased writing from the day that he began.

He is face to face with himself, with his abilities, ambitions and limitations, now, with a whole day more or less to work toward his goal, and he feels great urgency. This is fine, a driving force, but his strength comes from among other things his very personal involvement with nature, and from his contemplation of it. Time devoted to what appears aimless thought and speculation will also bear its fruits.

I would have thought that any advice to Ruburt would have involved suggestions curtailing his robust and ever curious intuitional abilities, but he is holding them down with too heavy a hand. He so feared that he lacked discipline that he becomes too stern a keeper of his own inner fires.

I will here end our session, and am pleased to note that Ruburt feels much better. Had I put off the session he would have felt worse by far, feeling guilty. Now my two pigeons, good night from your crusty friend. We are all in the same pie together, save that I am the baker and the crust both. Some recipe.

(October 13, Tuesday, 11:15 AM: Fleeting, forgotten images. As I first lay down, heard noise outside. Feeling struck me forcibly that it was caused by Marian Spaziani [our landlady]. Definite feeling, not a hunch, so strong I waited for her knock, which didn’t come. Thought I was mistaken. At noon someone in hall. It was Jimmy, Marian’s husband. He had been working around the house for some time.