“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(This evening we sat waiting for a session, or whatever else might develop. Jane heard her mother’s deprecating, scathing voice, quoted it to me, and said she felt quite uneasy. She felt as though “different parts of me are casting about for the best way to give the material tonight—Seth, or some other part of me, whatever we decided. I even got the idea: Now here we have the body ‘kind of thing,’” she said.

(My face began to feel better, although I still had an occasional twinge. I thought this not surprising under the circumstance. At 8:45 Jane said she felt herself dissociating. She said we could have a regular session probably, but she waited to see what the best way to proceed would be. Then she began to speak at 8:50, in a very quiet voice. Eyes open often, etc.)

His mother’s scorn told him this was a part of a bad blood heritage, an inevitable part of his condition. Ruburt felt that his mother only liked him because of his writing. In the early novels his repressed feelings could be expressed. They were creative, but also safety valves. I made art out of them.

His mother would pretend suicide just to punish him. He felt therefore that he caused your illness, that in a way you were punishing him for the frivolousness that made him suggest you leave a conventional background and your parents, and go with his father in Florida.

Quite unwittingly because of your own nature, you tilted the balance for a while. He picked up your ideas of discipline in the beginning, then latched upon them in his own way. He felt you did not trust his judgment, remembering what he thought of as key points in your life, when his judgment seemed wrong or when it was criticized.

These seemingly small episodes were nevertheless important. Because in the beginning you emphasized discipline, he felt you did not think him capable of exerting it on his own; that while you were attracted to his spontaneity you feared it and his energy. He felt that you believed that, given a free hand, his habits would be too exuberant. He would have, or would keep, odd hours, no schedule, be messy.

(9:15.) He felt for some time that you were intrigued by the spontaneous parts of his personality, as long as they could be controlled, kept proper and in their place. This had to do with the love-making also. He tried then, because of his loyalty to you, to temper the percentages—to be more one way than the other. You had this effect because he did idealize you to such a degree. It was not a fault of yours.

He felt his success put you in a poor light in your mother’s eyes, and the eyes of society. An impoverished artist as a husband he could take with great pride. Once the part-time job continued and kept continuing however, once you had a job steadily, then he felt that others compared you, not with other artists but with other ordinary men who had jobs. And there, under those conditions, you made poor showing.

He felt these feelings extremely disloyal. He felt your mother was silently accusing him of putting you in a poor light whenever he succeeded. He wanted you to state your position, and say “I am an artist” to her and to the world, but he deeply feared that you considered that attitude irresponsible, frivolous, not practical; and worse, that you felt it negated the sacrifice you made by keeping the job for so long. (Not so, etc.)

You did not communicate yourself too well. Because of his abilities he picked up your feelings all too clearly, but because of his fears he picked up your negative feelings. He was afraid you were not an artist after all. He knew you were not a Sunday painter, but he felt you were greatly repressed in your work, and that any breakthrough could only come when you focused upon it, your work, regardless of other consequences.

He therefore did not discuss any issues with you concerning his own discouragements or fears as they happened. He felt guilty enough because you were working. He did not want to lay extra burdens on you, but he came to resent everything that was provided by a job.

For many years, at least seven, he has been deeply concerned about your work, a repressive element in it, and the psychic freedom he felt you needed to release it. Because of the age difference he became very worried. Your best energies were going into your work, he felt, at the job, not into painting, and the very focus divided you. He felt it disloyal to recognize the repressive element in your work, and tried to pretend he did not see it.

(Jane got two more bits as we talked: The creative self had to disentangle itself from the conscientious self to get this material out; and she had ambiguous feelings about her books because she felt they put me in a poor light. Then the creative self returned at 9:50:)

(A small incident to illustrate: Yesterday morning at 8 AM, the tenant in the efficiency next door played the radio very loud outside our window for over an hour. We both were mad, and felt like yelling, etc. Later that morning I asked the man and his wife to not do that. They agreed. [This morning we slept undisturbed.] But when I came inside after speaking to them, Jane said, “I wouldn’t dare do that.” At the same time she was smiling, and very pleased that I’d spoken up. [I had decided to speak up regardless of the consequences, though.]