“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(We sat for the usual Monday session last night, but I was so tired that it never developed.

(A fourth category—publishing/advertising—developed shortly before the session began. I happened to discover a full-page ad of Prentice-Hall’s in the New York Times book section for April 27, 1975. Four books were featured, but none of Jane’s. I showed it to her, and it got as negative a reaction from her as it did me. Such instances always make me angry, almost at once.

(“I won’t,” I said. “There’s nothing to say. I’m in favor of taking drastic action [to get action from Prentice-Hall re ads], but I know you’re not.”

Castaneda’s books, for all their seeming unconventionality, had a niche to fall into, for here was the quite conventional scholar exploring a culture, even of the mind; not his own—but safely, within an academic framework to which he then returned, and to which academic readers could identify. Castaneda had his society’s credentials ahead of time. That society could then accept his journeys, and the individuals could allow themselves to follow his adventures, and forgive him for his cultural transgression because he brought home goodies.

(Pause at 9:37.) Give us a moment.... The point, however, was always made that Don Juan’s inner culture was alien—natural perhaps to Don Juan, but not to Castaneda or to the reader.

Castaneda could report. Other so-called psychic books of current nature are reported also, but usually by someone even further removed from the original experiences. A writer, free-lance, will do the life story of so-and-so, because the “psychic” himself is considered too erratic, too out of it, and too untrustworthy to honestly record his own experience.

Most of them do not have the writing ability to do so. But beyond that the feeling is that one who has such experiences is by temperament unreliable. The story must then be authenticated by someone else. There are publishing niches for such books.

Both varieties of books allow the reader a built-in distance that provides a cushion against cultural shock: the story is, after all, secondhand. Castaneda told his own story, but it was still secondhand, because his own opaqueness added the necessary distance that protected the reader.

(Pause at 9:49.) It would have been highly impractical, then, to expect Prentice to advertise the book. Times are changing. There is a so-called occult climate, yet we do not fall precisely into that category for them, the publishers, either; and Ruburt refuses to take advantage of “the trappings.” At least then they could say they had an occult personality who played the new part. It might be farce, from the publisher’s viewpoint, but they could sell it, and they would know how to advertise it.

Fiction, again, puts a lovely distance between the reader and experience. Publishers can handle it. But Ruburt is saying “This experience of mine means that this other kind of mental and spiritual world-view is natural—not alien, not a part of another culture.”

Bantam is helping—but no one there would have had the guts to make any initial investment. What I have said however applies now to Bantam, as it did to Prentice in the beginning. You give them no handle of a recognizable nature in your culture, upon which their kind of advertisement can be written.

You are correct (to me): Prentice does follow your beliefs. But these are not as negative as you often suppose. They have not taken advantage of you as a “highly fired” firm might, and they have actually tried to protect your privacy.

They knew they had something, but they had no idea of what it was—or how to handle it. In the beginning they did expect that you might pressure them —perhaps you were opportunists. They were highly impressed because you did not press for publicity. You were not publicity seekers, then. They have no idea of how many books they should have for advance printings—first printings.

(Jane, as Seth, paused. As I commented after the session, it seems that we’ll have to pull in our horns as far as our feelings about advertising and Prentice are concerned; it may be a relief to do just that. But I think that Seth’s material here is the best we could possibly come across on our publisher, Castaneda, etc., and I’m sure that Jane will agree.

That energy will arouse in you your own abilities. It will lead you to insights and solutions that can be yours alone. It will put you in touch with the ground of your being—from which, eventually, all exultation and answers spring. My purpose is not to solve your problems for you, but to put you in touch with your own power.

Frank (Longwell) is far more open-minded than most chiropractors or doctors, and he has learned much. I would like to correct a few misconceptions, however, pertinent not just here but generally.

You need not have stiff muscles if you sit for a long period—but you will indeed if you believe that you will. The body literally changes instantaneously, but if, you believe that time must be involved to whatever degree, then, it will of course happen that way. The muscles will need time to readjust.

(11:15.) The healer’s purpose and function, however he or she operates, is to convince the patient that healing is not only possible but inevitable. Few doctors, chiropractors, or healers of any kind can effectively feel or portray such faith. Faith is required because healer and patient alike are directly encountering a set of circumstances evident to the senses. The healer is usually equipped with his or her own beliefs, to which the patient is highly suggestible, because this is the area of conflict.

The healthy man or woman, in excellent condition, may be quite as blind in other areas, but the healer and the patient are united in a strange fashion by their belief in the existence of dis-ease as far as personal experience is concerned. The doctor is usually as obsessed with dis-ease as his patient, though from a different viewpoint.

Now Ruburt is moving more since you moved here, and to a greater degree than either of you realize. The original reasons behind the condition have largely been taken care of, but he is left with physical beliefs about his body. Habits have an important function in your lives. They enable you to act in a certain fashion that you consider necessary, without involving you in constant decisions. At one time Ruburt thought he should restrain himself. He learned to do this habitually. The reasons for such behavior are now leaving him. He set up a bodily behavior pattern, however, and it had to be based on body beliefs.

It is good of you to make the bed, and at this state at least the condition of his arms makes it difficult. But when you take over the responsibility for washing his clothes you are denying him acts that he did do—and can do, and adding to a sense of powerlessness in that regard. Help him wring out his slacks, for example, when he has trouble doing so, but do not automatically wash his things for him.

To Ruburt now: he began to know this, and some results have shown: but as you realize, his body can perform better. As he understands this, it will do so. There is nothing basically wrong with the muscles or the joints. They will respond to this understanding. They know they can move.

Now. Some of this is related to organizations, and served as a method of protection. Ruburt wondered how far he should go in publicizing his work. Ads would mean requests to speak. He discovered that he was a good speaker. He could go out into the world, but he didn’t want to. Your remarks about his telephone behavior often reinforce his feelings that he could not say “no” without the symptoms to back him up.

It is important then that you take a firm stand, both of you, in that regard. Your own fear, Joseph, sometimes—but not always—pushes you to exaggerate what you think of as Ruburt’s suggestibility on the phone. For a while, simply to aid in Ruburt’s recovery, and for present operational procedure, I suggest that you have the final word—that if you feel a firm “no” is not given, you give it.

Ruburt’s body can move normally now. This does not mean that he need feel like an idiot, but that he set up a body habit for reasons that he once considered valid, and that to change it requires some conscious effort. It requires patience, and loving understanding on his part, and on yours.

I will make suggestions pertaining to class, but suggestions only. You will have no money problems. Some kind of relaxed, intimate class framework will be beneficial, but a far smaller class. I have something in mind that I will tell you at another session. A small gathering of intimates—quite small—that is enough for now.

From his group of 40 the other five can be chosen, and invited on any kind of schedule he chooses. Some may come only once a month. But 15 for the entire number.

I have some things in mind myself, but the atmosphere is to be relaxed, a more intelligent version of Friday night, in which Ruburt feels he can be at ease, and does not need to make a great production. That is when we are all freest.