“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(This session came about quite unexpectedly just before midnight, after we’d had company—the Leahys from the end of Pinnacle Road; Jane had called them at supper time this evening and asked them to visit us. They left at about 11:30 PM. I then told Jane that I’d been feeling poorly all week—to such an extent, even, that I’d wondered if I was developing an ulcer. But my distress was also more general than that, so I felt other things were involved. I’m including a few notes here to remind myself of this session’s context when I reread it in later times.

(However, by late in the week I could see patterns emerging through my use of the pendulum, all concerning related feelings, doubts, etc., and was reassured that I was on the way to uncovering the source of my physical distress. My stomach felt somewhat better; Other pains in my body, while persisting, didn’t concern me so much. At the same time, through it all I could eat what I wanted, drink, etc., and the painting was going very well. I have, in regard to the latter, solved several challenges with painting—from the time we moved to Pinnacle Road—and now feel that I have a clear road there as to how I want to do things into the indefinite future, etc. This in itself has been a great boon; I have good confidence there; many problems have been resolved.

(I told myself that this attitude was ridiculous; My stomach didn’t clear up immediately, but once again the pendulum informed me that I had no physical illness—ulcers, or anything else. I did believe this, as I had all week, but still the physical pressure of my discomfort made me question everything. Nothing was much fun, although I went through the motions of doing everything. I also knew that I’d refuse to continue this way.

You have within your grasp the understanding to clear all these issues, but you have come to a point in your life where you cannot equivocate. You see about you the results of such compromise, and each of you have always been determined to entirely work though the belief systems of your era. While others can tell themselves stories, or be content with rationalizations, neither of you could take that road. In an important respect, therefore, your own disquiet has been creative, for it was meant to make you question.

You are in a position that you may have never really understood. You do not particularly need more money, but it is coming to you, and naturally as rain out of the sky. Now for once you should rationally feel free in your painting time to paint, released from all requirements of buying or selling. Yet perversely now, of all times, you feel as if your painting must bring money. Why?

(All of this material was delivered quite forcefully.)

Here you encounter all of the ambiguities that have always been connected in this life with your art. You should be pleased that you have, say, even three hours that need not be accounted for in any terms, financial or otherwise, but your own.

You still cling, however, to ideas that I tell you now are outmoded, passé and alien to the level of consciousness that is really native to you now. Give us a moment.... Creativity exists outside of time, yet your society gives you the idea that so many hours, whatever the number, must result in so many dollars—and you (to me) still cling, underneath, to that concept. You think “Time is money” —and I tell you now that time and money have nothing in common at all, and they have less in common with the nature of creativity.

Each of you built up your own set of defenses, because you did not believe that the universe was safe for creativity. Ruburt fixed it so that he could only sit at his desk—and for all your protests, my dear friend, you acquiesced. He finally became so physically upset that he is ready to dismiss the symptoms. But he also needed your help, because while the main method was his, your intents were in unison and the same—to protect yourselves and your creativity from an unsafe universe. The unsafe quality showed two faces. One: you had to cut out distractions. And two: one of you had to make money with your art or you would not survive. Between the two of you, you made your decisions.

(12:40.) Give us a moment.... Rest your hand. Your ideas of time, jointly and individually, have hampered your creativity. There seems to be a dilemma in terms of time. You can give only so many hours to my book, and so many hours to your painting. As long as you insist upon identifying creative time with physical time, the dilemma will be real. Your work on the book will be slow, for you will be sure that it “must take so much time.” Your entire physical hours must then be divided. Your painting “must take so much time.” And because you still seem to believe that your universe is unsafe, all of your creativity must give you the weapon—money—to protect you against the inequities and uncertainties of “fate.”

In actuality your creativity escapes all such bonds, and definitions. Your notes for the book can come easily, literally in half the time they do now take because of your beliefs. (Although I’m not aware of having any complaints here.) Your painting in physical terms can take half the physical time that it now takes because of your beliefs. You can no longer equivocate, either of you. Your creativity seems to have burst the practical elements of time. That is, your painting, Ruburt’s work, and my books seems to be “too much” in terms of time only because you have not let your intuitive understanding of creativity grow with your experience. You are between gears, so to speak. It is a creative period, far more significant than you realize, and you have set a challenge for yourselves because you know that you can break through the barriers of old beliefs.

There is nothing wrong with the kidneys, but with the suppression of impulse. He has conditioned himself not to feel the impulse, so that when he is aware of it, in your terms, it is too late. This frightens him because consciously he has not been aware. When he is, then of course the slow motions add to the problem. He put off bodily functions as long as he could, for what he thought of as mental creativity—and all of this is highly related to the ideas of time as I explained them.