“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(We’d achieved some good success with our mutual pendulum suggestions for Jane, twice daily, over the past several weeks. Early this week, however, I began to feel very much out of sorts; I let the pendulum sessions go as far as Jane was concerned. At the same time my own distress physically led me to ask my own pendulum questions. As usual, I discovered that the pendulum is a very reliable tool for me. I also found out, though, that this time the pendulum gave me such a variety of responses —different ones each day, practically—that at first I didn’t know how much stock to put in its answers. For my ill feelings continued. The pendulum told me I was worrying about everything from taking too long in producing The “Unknown” Reality to stewing about spending too much time painting, to worrying about my own seeming lack of income. I also wondered if we were really getting anywhere using it to help Jane. In spite of what we had achieved there, she wasn’t walking better yet, etc.

(I should say here that one of the things the pendulum told me early in the week was that I was concerned because Jane wasn’t having regular sessions any more —that I felt she was missing something important in her life because of this lack. After the session I told her that having a session a week didn’t really interfere with my own routine; etc. She said she understood, so we’ll see what develops here.)

I said once that when an alcoholic tries to stop drinking there can be repercussions from beloved ones, who are conditioned to the old situation. To some extent at least that is happening with you. Ruburt’s symptoms, dismaying, nevertheless provided a certain kind of steady, reliable framework. That framework is breaking down. You are reacting to the change.

When that status quo shows signs of changing, you become disturbed. You stop the suggestions. In your society money is like a weapon that you need to protect yourself. You cannot equivocate (to me, forcefully). You must completely accept the fact that you do indeed dwell in a safe universe—one in which you are free to develop, say, your painting abilities to the fullest, without fearing that that development will dull the weapon that brings you money.

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.