“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Now, give us a moment.... Ruburt basically believed that if he did his own thing—writing—money would come to him. For a while, as given much earlier, he was worried about money, believing poverty the mark of the artist. The latter belief fell, however, and in three years the financial picture has changed vastly for the better.

(For the record: This last material may have come through because I got angry yesterday when I discovered that Prentice-Hall had run a two-page ad in the NY Times Book Section, for Sunday, December 2, without mentioning any of the Seth books. Tam has recently told Jane that the Seth books outsell all P/H’s books except the Ozzie Nelson. So the Nelson book was pictured in the ad, along with a lot of others, but nary a Seth book.)

Now: in his beliefs Ruburt wrote recently that he had a good complexion, and always had one. He realized that this was often reinforced by you in your comments, and in this very simple instance you see the result of a joint belief freely carried through without conflicts. We will call it a simple declaratory belief. Like a simple sentence unmodified by qualifiers.

The symptoms also cut down distractions to insure that he did work while at home. He was trying to show you that it could be done. Unfortunately in some respects certainly he went overboard, so that the symptoms served to cut out anything he felt might be threatening to his work and to your situation.

A child might result in your working out full time, in which case you would never, he felt, develop as an artist. Social contacts were kept at a minimum. The isolation he felt you needed would be given you. At the same time his own abilities would be concentrated upon also. It was a do-or-die effort on his part. Once embarked, there was to be no turning back, until finally his own work and your reactions began to hint of difficulties, and his own body reflected them. He tried to keep you from family connections and complications for what he thought was your own good.

All of this was based upon your much earlier beliefs that life was short and that all of your energies must be put into your work. This was literally interpreted, and all other impulses systematically denied until, say, a shopping endeavor like today’s must be first thought out as good or bad. Earlier, spending money on anything not strictly necessary was bad, because it might detract from money needed to allow you to work. Money used meant that you might have to look for work again and not be able to develop your abilities.

The funeral (of my mother on November 19, 1973), family considerations, thoughts of buying a house, brought up difficulties. These were apparent also because at the same time he had begun going out more, giving in some to previously denied impulses, and putting himself in positions that he had not before. He was, in a small period of time, encountering his beliefs in reality as he knows it, therefore.

The spending splurge, and changes here, are important. Particularly important was your discussion with him the other evening. You recall the one I mean. (About Jane and me being essentially alone in that world now after my mother’s death, etc.) In the inner order of events he is walking nearly normally, but the challenge to beliefs must take place on that outer level, and this is now occurring. It is important because of his literal-mindedness.

Now: because of your background you also feel that there is something slightly shameful about going abroad in the day, when a man should be taken up with dutiful work. Your mother was ashamed of your father’s being home, for example. You used to comment to Ruburt about all the people on the streets in working hours. He picked that idea up from you. Your own list of beliefs should be quite illuminating as you continue it. But the real realizations will come as the exercises and their personal comprehension merge with what is written in my book.

Again, your lovemaking together is vital. Ruburt was correct in some assessments he made concerning your own energy. In a certain way your mother’s death releases it.