“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

The consciousness of the personality has not left too soon, or unusually soon, as in your father’s case, but stubbornly persists. It is as if an artist found the last painting showing up over and over in the next one. In such cases there is a lack of understanding. The inner identity does not understand that it is simply taking a different guise, fulfilling different obligations, or using unfulfilled energies.

He left you and he left your brothers something you hold in high regard. Lingering within the man you call your father there was always the sense of the unfinished. There was a feeling of the searcher. There was the need from which creativity springs. In some measure this became your impetus. You sensed it intuitively.

(Long pause.) He could not materialize. In a sense he was more your passive mother than your father. He could not communicate. His love of machinery was his attempt, his strongest attempt, to make his being physical. The man you call your father is happier now than he has ever been.

Your mother is facing realities she would not face in the past, and seeing in physical terms the results of her own inner actions. There was no other way for her to learn. What may seem a disaster to you in your scrutiny of her life, is a well-learned lesson in reality, and a victory.

Personalities are not static things. Entities are eternal. (Eyes narrowed and dark.) They are not as nicely nor as neatly packaged out, one to a body, as your psychologists believe. They constantly change. They grow. They make decisions. They use the physical body fully, or they partially depart according to their own inner needs and development.

Now I hope that you will understand me intuitively, for what I have said confounds the intellect to some considerable degree. But I speak through Ruburt, and Ruburt is himself and I am myself, yet without your support of Ruburt I could not speak. This in no way minimizes my reality, or Ruburt’s. So your father’s use of his own energies does not minimize what he is, nor his overall sense of direction.

He did not leave you with no thought. He left you what he thought was the best he had to give you, a need for creativity that he could not express in physical terms. (Long pause, eyes closed, head down.) He left for your young brother a sense (smile) of sweetness, an innocent, untouched quality that will always sustain him.