“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(Late yesterday afternoon my pendulum told me that Jane’s symptoms stemmed from her feeling that she had failed to become a successful “straight” writer—a novelist, poet, essayist, et al.; that she felt she had failed as the serious writer she had always dreamed of becoming, that the psychic work represented a turning down a wrong path; that actually, basically, the psychic work represented failure to her rather than success. I was very excited by these ideas, more excited than I had been in a long time. I intuitively felt them to be true. I discussed them for some little while with her before we went out to a New Year’s Eve party at McClure’s. Jane seemed to agree with the ideas.

(At a quick scan I thought the ideas answered all the questions we’d had about the symptoms over the years—explaining, for instance, their onset before the psychic developments, etc. They seemed to offer a unified theory to cover the years of our marriage, and even Jane’s childhood. I saw at once that if valid they also meant Jane must shelve her projected book, Adventures in Consciousness, and concentrate on things like Rich Bed, the Dialogues (poetry), and, perhaps, let Seth do his own thing in sessions. If this included writing books, okay. But crisis time was here, and something had to be done. I was somewhat puzzled that I hadn’t asked my pendulum this specific set of questions before—or had I? If I had, perhaps I hadn’t understood the answers, I thought; because certainly no action had been taken because of them, along the lines now contemplated....

For some time Ruburt felt he was a failure, as a wife and as a writer. He did not see you succeeding, either. Conditions mentioned far earlier made communication difficult, and he brooded. The mobility, the point of mobility, represented moving ahead in his work, or not moving ahead. The apartment became a symbol. It was quite all right for the aspiring writer. If however he could not achieve the kind of success he wanted, then he might as well have the trappings.

(Yes, I recall clearly urging Jane to publish the material; most regrettable now, of course. A serious error, for at that time she instinctively knew what was best for her. I want her to go back to relying upon her instincts and intuitions.)

There were also financial considerations. He had only lately freed himself from a part-time job. To refuse a psychic book that was definite, to try for another novel with no assurances, seemed foolhardy. At the same time his age bothered him. The young writer, aspiring, was no longer so young.

At the same time he began to doubt his writing abilities. Perhaps he had overjudged his talents. Following The Seth Material, requests came that showed quite clearly he was regarded as a psychic. Psychics helped people. I told him to stay away from spiritualistic groups. He has a strong sense of responsibility and loyalty. He avoided being a “psychic personality” (in quotes) in grand terms. I am digressing here to bring you another issue: the strong responsibility he always felt toward his writing ability, he naturally felt toward the psychic ability—but without the necessary sense of discrimination, since he didn’t realize what such activities involved.

He did however feel that responsibility. Conflicts arose because his responsibilities clashed. Other quite ordinary issues were involved, some fears he did not want to admit. At times he was convinced that he had made a failure of his life so far—with you and his work.

Initially there was great enthusiasm with both, but Rich Bed was his baby and Adventures a method of learning and an initial way of releasing pent-up creative energy. It had a purpose, and has. It meant however more creative time spent in examining (underlined) the psychic experience. At the same time he hoped Tam would take Rich Bed, knowing he wouldn’t. Unconsciously Tam sensed that dilemma, as he senses this one. Seven was the answer. In the meantime your being home also meant that he was face to face with you. You could see his condition, and as given earlier he tried to hide from you at times most of all.

Now, the stairs represent going up and down on a treadmill, and getting nowhere. He seemed unable to move in any direction. This had to do with your apartment, which actually suited him fine for some time. But other dissatisfactions not faced were projected there also, and exaggerated, while there seemed to be nothing he could do about it.

He well knew at times that Adventures was in part a ruse to content him, and assure him of a contract while I began my book, but he is afraid of taking the plunge on his own now. He was also afraid that you would be angry.

Bill Macdonnel, coming at this time of year, did remind him of the first sessions and the ESP book and the tooth incident, caused physically by the sinuses, was a message that the time was crucial, a crisis. He had to say no, now, and move ahead in his own area.

(A few notes for the record: Bill Macdonnel returned to Elmira over the holidays to visit his parents. He’s visited us a couple of times. A week or so ago Jane had a dream in which she saw Bill with his mouth full of blood. Calling Bill a couple of days later to invite him to a New Year’s eve party, Jane was told by Bill that he’d been to the dentist and had several teeth pulled the day of the call.

(Subsequently, Jane several times was seized with a strong ache in her lower right jaw. Her pendulum told her she was picking up on Bill. We haven’t heard from him since the call. Monday, January 1, 1973, we decided to go for a ride, since it was a beautiful day. Unknown to me Jane’s jaw began to bother her as she left the house.

Ruburt’s condition deteriorated after the meeting with Eleanor. The situation brought into focus, you see, the entire problem. Seagull’s middle-aged lady focused it further. (Bach’s description of Jane for Time.) The middle-aged lady was mentioned as middle-aged, and as a psychic, poet and science fiction writer—a turning of the ways in that the psychic books were mentioned, but no books of poetry, which gave impetus to Dialogues.

Most of this was very conscious at various times, but your view of suburbia (when we went house hunting with a realtor the other day) helped to bring it into focus. Ruburt will use his creative ability in fiction yet, in a way that he could not have otherwise, to bring home the reality and dimension of human personality.

Now I have an important suggestion, to which I hope you will acquiesce, and it is important: You must really form a letter, a nice one, thanking people for their interest, explaining that for now private sessions are not given for individuals. These should be sent out to unanswered correspondence. Ruburt should devote himself to what he wants to write in his time. I will produce my books. There will be others (period).

Each individual has within him guidelines meant to lead him in the ways best for him. You cannot compare yourselves with others. Ruburt’s own feelings therefore are those guidelines. They may be different at various times, but they can be trusted. Ruburt’s creative ability is his for a reason. It was meant to be used, as well as his psychic abilities were.

This time he believes you, because the suggestion came from you. (To shelve Adventures,etc.) He feels free to be a psychic only when he is not labeled (underlined) one exclusively.