“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(We talked briefly after a late supper.While washing up, Jane told me after she was finished, she “got” that she was worse in Key West because she should have stayed here and worked today. We went to Key West with the idea of possibly spending our last week there, but found prices too high for us, at least on such short notice. After the nap, I suggested we might stay here the next week, to work, have a couple of sessions, etc., and Jane agreed.

All right (Jane said), call me the creator, this part of me that’s talking. We’re using it to designate what I am. I’m composed of your strong drives for creativity. My purpose is to protect and direct your energies specifically in the areas of writing and painting. I’ll state what I think simply. I want this dialogue because my purposes were not being met. My efforts have obviously worked against themselves.

Strong moral ideas welded what I am together—welded the creative drives like glue. Part of me was born in Ruburt’s childhood. This part was strengthened by your own ideas of work and creativity. You became the policeman. I relied on you to see that Ruburt’s creativity was channeled and used, protected, but most of all not frittered away.

I am literal-minded, in that I believe you are meant to be creators, and I have done all in my power to see that you did not swerve. I considered your position dangerous, more so as time passed. My methods however obviously are not working now, so it becomes necessary that I communicate with you.

I do not want you to go hungry, or to be unhappy. I do not want you to be in want, but outside of that nothing else concerns me but your work.

You two more or less made me a promise that Ruburt would begin working sensibly on his book again (after last session), and instead you took a trip. I consider this a betrayal—a small one, but quite indicative of your behaviors.

My methods have not brought about what I wanted, however. Now you spend half of your time trying to figure them out, and what is wrong with Ruburt—time that you should be working. I do not care if both of you die poor, but I do demand that you live using your abilities.

I understand you have left, but I expected a full concentration on your work and plans. Unfortunately there were side effects from my methods, that make Ruburt’s condition an impediment to the very plans I want.

I considered the trip a scandal today. The vacation itself an excellent idea if half of it were devoted to work. I go along with the psychic development, as long as it adds to your work and influences it. I am suspicious of it if it prevents you from painting, because of notes, but this does not bother me when you are painting also.

My demands, to me, are simple and reasonable. More than that, I see no others worthwhile. All you have to do to please me is work a reasonable amount of hours daily; then I do not care what you do, but I expect that purpose to govern and direct your lives to be the focus about which all other events happen, not a sideline.

I accept no substitutes, and in that respect I am like a jealous God. I am also somewhat like a computer gone amuck, however, if my methods do not meet my ends. I want the main energizing portion of you directed into your work, both of you. Now they have been directed toward Ruburt’s condition. The condition will vanish automatically if these ends are met. They are side effects.

You said once that you would like to live on a mountaintop, and never go out, and just work and have no distractions. Ruburt was carrying this out in his own way.

If you work on your own, both of you, then I do not need to police you. You are free to play and wander when your work is done. I tried to have him sit and write books, chained to his chair, don’t you see. The purpose twofold: to see that he worked creatively himself, and could not have a job, and to have money so that you could paint full time.

You finally began to realize that I wanted you to leave the job (long pause at 9:55), but the negative attitudes that had built up attached themselves to the new projects—something I did not foresee. My power is the strength of both of your drives. (Pause for a cigarette.) I am a part of you, then, the part that always hated your job, and can scarce[ly] forgive you for keeping it so long. I understand it was necessary for a time, but all thoughts of security beyond the daily necessities mean little to me. I want you secure enough to work in peace. Outside of that I have no interest.

(10:00.) I see the spontaneity of your sketches, so good, many of them done at the job, kicking your heels up at the job—the spontaneity in direct opposition to the work demanded of you there.

To me, my demands are simple. I rage when neither of you work as you should. Show me you do not need a policeman, that if I let go you will not slide away from your goals. I am a taskmaster. That is my role. I am reasonable, however. I am willing now to negotiate. In negotiating with me you negotiate with yourselves. I do not accept compromises. I do accept solid work and firm intent.

I am tired. I have done my best. I do need your understanding and cooperation now. I have worked long and hard for you; though it seems that I have been a tyrant, I have always tried to be the servant of your own abilities.

I am dismayed. I did not think Ruburt would work unless he was chained to his chair, so I chained him, both to do his own work and force you to do yours. Then you both fought me. He did not like working chained, and I tried to make the chains appear as natural as I could. He is not physically harmed to any great degree (one of the questions I wanted discussed tonight, although I never mentioned it to Jane), or maimed. I can say however that for some time I did not care if he was, if these purposes were met. I see now that they would not be, that instead all your time would be spent concentrating upon the condition that was meant as a protection, until no work was done—hence my dismay. I was not appreciated, though I did my best for you.

(Later the next day, as I write these notes, she told me her knees are “working, bending somewhat,” as they haven’t been doing. She has been walking stiff-legged.)