“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Last week Ruburt did fairly well. He actually concentrated upon Seven, typed it creatively, walked several times a day, began to help with meals and with the house, and comparatively speaking you both had a fairly good week. Then, once again, you both began to concentrate upon the problem. Ruburt’s legs activated themselves in rather strenuous fashion in bed. You both became frightened, and there is no need to blame yourselves.

(10:11.) When you become so worried, of course, you concentrate even further on the problem—how bad it is, and what will happen if it becomes worse in the future. The problem is, therefore, compounded to whatever degree—and when I give you both such reasons, then sometimes you use them, the two of you, to add to your private and joint self-disapproval.

Now understand that I am using the term “perfectionism” in a comparative fashion—but you disapprove of defects of any kind, the both of you. (Pause.) Do you want this material?

I gave you portions of it in the past. At Ruburt’s last visit to your dentist, both of you decided that his position was embarrassing, that it put you both in a bad light, that his condition spoke of invisible defects. Ruburt was frightened of going, had a very difficult time with the stairs, but made them. You said something like “It looks like you’ve had it, hon.” He could have said, “Had it, shit,” but he did not. You were embarrassed in the street. He was in people’s way. You were impatient.

You both thought Ruburt should hide in the house. You were too proud to show your defects, because in your eyes such defects are so horrendous, and Ruburt’s condition becomes the symbol for all of man’s physical distress, in your eyes.

He does need to put his full weight on his feet more, though last week was a good compromise for now—but overall the body has been more exercised. You must both be on guard against comparing his walking with normal walking.