“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(Generalized body changes since the last session Saturday night: More loosening in neck, ligaments, chin and face area; walking is easier but still requires support – legs tremble and have trouble supporting weight, but knees move better. “Shitty,” Jane said with a rueful laugh. Right foot looser and looser, but no help walking. Head and back more flexible; eyes not quite so red—“in and out” of focus in a period of minutes, yet Jane could see to work part of the time today, as Seth suggested.)

The theory, then, is a way of organizing experience, a suggestive hypothesis. It is indeed no more than a point of view. It has colored man’s societies and cultures since its inception. It has dominated economical systems. In that regard, for example, James was quite correct: certain religious societies interpreted the theme so that it read “evolution of the soul”; but there is no soul in Darwinian theory and hereditary, and certainly none in the environment.

Suggestion not only impels toward action, but causes you to interpret action in a given manner. In strict Darwinian terms, man and animal alike had to be turned aggressively outward in the most competitive of physical ways. A new achievement on the part of a species, or any mutation occurred, occurred as the direct result of personal experience—and of course no information was available otherwise.

Nature took the place of the devil in an insidious sleight-of-hand that initially Darwin himself never expected. He wanted to show that God was not responsible for the world’s cruelties. Darwin loved nature in all of its aspects, yet he could not reconcile its beauties and splendors with the course of its events. He could not bear to see a cat play with a mouse, without blaming God who would permit such cruelty. He tried to wipe God’s hands clean, as he understood the nature of God through his early beliefs—but in so doing he wiped the soul from the face of nature.

For example, Ruburt’s latest status, and your somewhat natural concern with the temporary walking difficulty—you know what I am referring to—I say to you that the concern is natural; for it certainly seems so to both of you. You have little idea, however, how sometimes the most natural-seeming reactions are not natural at all, but programmed. An animal, say, in Ruburt’s position, feeling as much new activity in the body, new motion in the knees, new elasticity in the ligaments, would quite naturally accept the improvements with physical elation, even if it had more difficulty one day, or two, than it had in days previous. It would sense the body’s interstate condition. It would not worry, but would exercise whatever new motions were possible. It would take it for granted that its body knew what it was doing. It would not be hampered by remnants of Darwinian or Freudian concepts.

(10:36.) I want to show you where culture and cultural beliefs meet with your private experience. Ruburt’s body needed more challenge. Before this latest episode that upset him showed, Important releases in the hip sockets occurred, with hardly any notice on his part. Little inconvenience. The amount of new motion there was minute but vitally important if his stance upward were to improve.

Any animal would rather be running and physically vigorous than not. But when an animal’s improving, he goes along with the improvement. If Ruburt suddenly walked more poorly than usual, as for the last few days, showing no other signs of obvious beneficial change, then that would be something else. There are natural bodily reactions, however, and psychological reactions that may seem natural, but that often are contrary to the body’s knowledge, and that can block that knowledge with the sense of reassurance that it can bring.

Animals have their own culture. They understand it differently, however, but it is taken into consideration in physical terms. You are doing very well, and your own beliefs are changing, Joseph, perhaps in greater fashion than you realize. The idea of Ruburt’s teeth should be dropped, however. The concern over the matter becomes far more an impediment than any actual loss of his teeth. Yes, beliefs could save the rest of them—but both of your interpretations about teeth at this point hold you back.

The work of the jaws necessitates the actions occurring, and if the new jaws end up with new teeth (humorously), that must not be considered a failure or a tragedy. That fear is precisely what keeps Ruburt from saving the teeth so far. The teeth business has to do also with Darwinian concepts of age, with thought of the animal not surviving, and in your world that is ridiculous. The fears behind the fears are groundless. He must not be so afraid, then, of losing the teeth—and then perhaps he can save them. But in any case you both lay highly negative and unwarranted suggestions in that area.

To some extent the Freudian self, as per James, more or less followed the same pattern. A man could scarcely trust his neighbor if he agreed with Darwin or Freudian concepts. Behind any altruistic impulse there had to be a selfish gain. Before all of this, however, nature was seen as primarily passive—put here by God for man’s purpose, but without possessing the uniqueness or even approaching the status of man.

Darwin managed to bring out nature’s complexity, though this had been mentioned by other men—I believe by a man called Mendel in particular. But Mendel did not catch man’s imagination. Darwin then brought nature to man’s focus in a new way, for before neither science or religion had dealt with it in a meaningful manner. The full sweep and extent of the natural world , with all of its seeming ambiguities, cruelties and splendors, had to be accepted as more than a passive package delivered into man’s hand.

Illness is a face-saving device, socially, often occurring where private beliefs and feelings find irritation with mass beliefs. Our sessions began, and you managed to make other changes or compromises: you worked part time, and so did Ruburt. This had some advantages, but also many points of conflict. When either of you were offered jobs with advancement, you avoided them like the plague—idiotic behavior in Darwinian and Freudian terms.

Yet those terms influenced you both. You were involved in work that required growing trust of the self. Your painting required it, but Ruburt’s position required it still more. The self could be trusted least of all, however, so that Ruburt felt a necessity to criticize his procedure and performance, lest he was leading you and he both down a Freudian garden path.

(12:01.) You have learned much, but until lately you always interpreted your position in the light of Darwinian and Freudian concepts. You want the books to sell well. That is natural. Your natures however are not particularly competitive. There is no reason to feel that you should (underlined three times) “be out there selling books.” You naturally both concentrate on ideas. Left alone, that concentration will naturally seek expression, amplification, and might result in, say, if you wanted it, some tours. But many of your ideas there are your attempts to bring your work into Darwinian terms.