“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Both of you have seen yourselves in the past in a rather specialized light, and interpreted your success, or lack of it, or progress or lack of it, in one particular area only; and you had at least, each of you, a tendency to view the other in the same manner, though this was far more emphasized on Ruburt’s part. So you thought of yourself as an artist, primarily, and judged your success, or lack of it, through that focus, and generally through that focus only.

You are each far more consciously aware consciously of the course you have chosen, individually and together, than you realize. All along the way there were many choices that each of you made, leading to your present position. As you mentioned following your parents’ deaths, there was a sense of aloneness. It is because Ruburt always felt that aloneness that he has in his own way tried to serve both of your purposes at the same time. (I felt bad for Jane’s aloneness.)

The concentration would also provide financial fruits. He would not be making money for both of you that would enable you to paint, etc., but losing it, if he allowed himself the freedom to run all over the place, take vacations, etc. He thought he was buying you time, and for himself as well.

Some of this he is aware of, but all of it was based upon the specializations, the private focuses through which both of you have a tendency to view your lives. You, Joseph, are beloved by many people you do not know. You have enriched their lives, through the notes, through your part in our work. People who are strangers to you consciously feel better because you exist. That is the kind of success that matters.

It is true, cortisone is released through the system in love-making, and Ruburt needs it. He is a sexually responsive and expressive woman. I realize the ambiguities in that sentence. It is precisely because he is that the two of you together see to it that your sexual activity is minimal—and neither of you have regretted it on deeper levels. (Forcefully in here.) You may complain, to save face, both of you, and only a strong relationship like yours would survive under those conditions.

Ruburt will progress so far, then progress stops. This results from both of your attitudes and behavior. I will give you an example. After Ruburt has not been out publicly for a while—to a bar or restaurant—or met people, he becomes frightened. In his mind he sees people looking at him. He sees himself as an eyesore, and wants to hide. Then, utilizing our sessions, he begins to improve. Impulses arise again to go out—for dinner, to mix with others, to a bar.

When such an improvement of attitude does occur on Ruburt’s part, it takes considerable courage for him to take or initiate that first step—and you do not ease the way, but in the meantime go along until he makes such a suggestion first. When you finally do both go out, at the most two or three times in a row, something happens. What could it be?

In a different way, you both react as far as love-making is concerned. You each have an odd ingrown idea that writers and artists exist somehow apart from their personhood. They may be tortured or agonized like ordinary human beings, but they cannot be fulfilled like ordinary human beings—they cannot have friends or share confidences, or let down their hair with each other. They must somehow dwell alone and apart.