“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

There is nothing physically wrong with you, and yet you have been feeling distress. You have been experiencing this disquiet just as Ruburt has begun to show some steady signs of improvement. To some extent Ruburt’s symptoms served to keep the unsafe world at bay; while this was his private construction, you also took advantage of it, in that at least it served certain purposes.

That wall is being broken down. It is no longer reliable. In any joint reality, purposes mix and merge. You would not have a wife who had Ruburt’s particular kind of symptoms unless for your own reasons they served your ends as well—though of course to a lesser extent by far than they served Ruburt’s purposes.

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.

If you thoroughly understood that you dwelled in a safe universe, you would need no such concepts. Both you and Ruburt have had a hangup, so to speak. You have believed that so much time “spent” had to produce “so much” creative work, or creative product. (Loudly:)You even more than Ruburt—and that is saying something—have connected creativity and time in a way that is detrimental. That idea has impeded your creativity. Ruburt has struggled with that, but so have you. Your painting time, I tell you—listen to me—had basically nothing to do with clock time. It takes a certain amount of “time” physically to work with a brush. Beyond that, the inspiration of your soul can speak in three minutes, and give you the inspirations of a lifetime (loudly)—but not while you insist that creative time and physical time coincide. This has to do with Ruburt’s symptoms, for he felt that he must be at his desk so many hours, whatever the number, and you became so obsessed with the amount of physical hours that you had to devote to painting that you began to divide up your psyche in terms of time.

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.