“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(Jane experienced a bout of crying at the supper table this evening. Material came up to her consciousness after she arose from a nap at about 5:30 PM, and began preparing the meal. I encouraged her to talk about what was on her mind even though her supper got cold, etc., and was sure Seth would cover the subject this evening.

He railed, again, about the psychic work, but this, while important, was deeply recognized as a part of his nature, an extension of it long before he consciously accepted it. Do you follow me?

Now. Intuitively he has always believed that you should leave Artistic. He was somewhat frightened over the circumstances some years ago, when you had no money behind you, but even then intuitively he felt you should do so.

(We were holding the session in Jane’s workroom across the hall from the living room, in order to obtain more privacy. It was so hot that Jane had been peeling off articles of clothing ever since the session began.)

(After I resumed my seat:) The conflict was obvious, then, he had determined to write, to make his living in that manner. He refused to make a pattern of jobs. At my instigation he began the classes, which led him, though slowly, into other areas of financial development.

He was ready for you to leave Artistic and take your chances as soon as you had a thousand in the bank. You see his nature.

As a woman he appreciated your concern for security, and part of him was frightened to think of your giving up the income then, but the greater intuitive part felt that you should do so. He would not support you with a job, but he would do so through his books and other endeavors.

He felt trapped, then. He withdrew physically, throwing all the more energy, he thought, into this course of trying to produce a book good enough to free you both. When the rewards financially began to pile up and you did not make a move, he began to think it was futile.

It was you who always said you wanted to put all of your energy into your work. You, whom he followed with such enthusiasm. He would waste his body for you and his work, but you would not take that step. He could not understand why. Operating, again, on his part were those doubts: could he really make a go of it if you quit? But he was more than willing to try if given the chance.

In your discussions you came back to: “Yes, but I can’t depend on you to take a job to help out.” Of course you couldn’t. He thought that was understood. He could help you his own way, and that was not his way. His commitment forbade it. He thought your commitment forbid you, too. He felt in the last years that he could sustain you both financially, with your psychic support, if the stimuli were there, and he knew you were doing what you wanted to.

Beyond this the daily and yearly steady living pattern was frightening to him in personal ways. He had always determined and said that he would not marry someone who stuck in a house on the corner of Main and such and such a street. This meant simply that the conventionally-accepted pattern was not acceptable to him.

He saw the two of you writing and painting together. Since you have no other close contacts this emotional bond was important. Because he concentrates with such intentness he needs changes of environment physically as counterpoint. He saw himself writing books, then taking a trip to break the routine, returning again and plunging into work.

He long ago relinquished the idea of freely dashing around the countryside. He needs a home base deeply, as you do, but your job here also restrained you both. He felt you did not understand this need, that it was not logical.

The money meant little if it did not bring you what you wanted or even provide an environment that was more desirable. He thought: another book, more money in the bank to pay taxes on, you still at your job, no trips, just another book for more money. He felt you were throwing his gift back in his face.

He was also afraid of losing what you had, disrupting the pattern of current life, particularly if you did not feel ready. He became deeply worried for you, and looked to you for leadership. He felt you abandoned him as far as your joint concern with your work was concerned.

The psychic work took up more of your time. The obvious to him was to quit your job (Jane, as Seth, almost laughed), paint, and have the time you needed. You seemed willing to make no adjustments of any kind. At the same time he felt you would begin to resent the time spent from your work, but you would cling to the job like a lifeline until it was too late.

He appreciated the time you gave him, but he did not want the sacrifice of yourself. It was to his way of thinking a perverted gift, for which he could give no adequate acknowledgment—a gift that denied what you wanted was no gift but an unendurable burden.

He felt you should know this. He would never bring it up. His fear was too great. You would think he would not understand, or that he did not appreciate what you were doing. With what he was putting himself through, unnecessarily—but he did not realize it—then he could not understand why you did not insist on doing what you said you wanted to do. Either that, or admit you did not want it.

He felt you resented his being home. You used to say “You don’t know what it is to punch a time clock,” he thought resentfully. He took it as an accusation. He felt deeply that you had no one but yourself to blame if you did not quit. The money was there to be used, and you were blaming him when he did not deserve it to that degree.

These thoughts smacked of disloyalty. He would not admit them consciously. He was afraid of demanding that you quit for fear you would say “I will quit if you get a job,” and this he could not do because of his own commitment.

When he moved into this apartment the idea was “If Rob will not use the money then at least I will have more space.” He felt deeply misunderstood despite any ideas of logic or reason in conventional terms. He felt deeply that you should have left years ago, that your own intuition should have told you this. He was at a loss to understand why you did not, or why it seemed (underlined) you would insist upon a job on his part before you would leave.

With the dream book he felt, beside the material already given that it was useless. There would be more money in the bank and to him is was blood money, rotten or spoiled like fruit overripe and unused. He felt you were denying your own talent and abilities. You told him to trust himself constantly but you gave him no example, only words, for you did not trust yourself to that degree.

He knew quite well that you would be both casting yourselves adrift financially in conventional terms. He remembered in the past how he felt withdrawing money from the bank. He was quite aware of his own fears also, but he felt that the stimulus would offset these, and that you would not add your courage to his when he was faltering. Unless he did something, he felt, the status quo would continue.

(10:14. At break Jane experienced a real outburst, during which she said most forcefully that she wouldn’t get a job, had no intention of doing so, etc. I thought this was material she had harbored for a long time. I hadn’t asked her to get a job recently. Anything I said concerning Jane and jobs referred to past experiences, which hadn’t worked out, etc.

He was also very deeply aware of your part in them, in the sessions, and in your support. To that extent they were their own reward. The secondary benefits, to him now, the financial rewards, lay latent. He felt they should be plowed back in—used for you and your work, and that you were not taking advantage of these secondary rewards, that they lay unused when they should furnish you, now, with the opportunity to do your painting.

He felt that it was inevitable, or should be, for you at one time to devote yourself to your painting, that you knew this, that is was always ahead of you, and that it was being unnecessarily put off.

He was afraid that you would grow more deeply to resent this, and that you would not rouse yourself in time to do what you must do. In the beginning he was afraid of taking the chance, but not taking the chance became finally unbearable. He was afraid you would not do it. He did not want to be the one to apply the stimulus. He wanted that to come from you.

Because of his love and loyalty he is deeply concerned about your work, and development. He was afraid of casting you into a situation before you were ready, and it seemed to him if you did not initiate the action you were not ready. He is afraid, naturally enough of the change, but the fear of not making it is far greater. He is determined that you have the chance despite any consequences, despite natural fears or anything else.

(Seth now made some comments, here not recorded, about my using our recorder for more information, but as usual I was hesitant because of the time involved later in transcription. This was the end of the session. Jane’s trance had been deep all evening, the pace fast.

After a pause Jane said, “There’s more. That’s all you got, but there’s more to it.” This was another surprise. At 11:30 she went back into the Sumari trance and delivered the balance of the poem. It isn’t included here since she has made her own copies for her Sumari notebook, of this one and the three poems that subsequently followed. My original notes contain a list of the times each poem took – only a few minutes – plus a few comments. The session ended at 12:15 AM.

(Jane was really bleary and sleepy by the time she was finished. I thought her performance remarkable, and the poems of high quality. “I just sit here and they come out,” she said, but obviously there is much here for us to learn.)