“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(Tuesday night. Jane wrote her feelings down for the day, as usual. They’re on file. We went over them this morning. Their contents are embodied in the two papers that are reproduced below; the first one, from the library, she received before placing a call to The Village Voice; the second, from Seth, came through after she made that call, and called a few people about visiting us next Friday night.

(Jane’s Tuesday paper on her feelings is evidently a very important one, representing some excellent insights on her part about her repressed impulses, her fears about my reactions to various events, her private nature and public appearances, and related topics. I’d say that to some extent at least its content flows from the proposed interview with a reporter from The Village Voice, a contact made with the business manager at WELM in town, and so forth—hardly accidental, we think, that these events connected with publicity, her work, etc., come into our awareness at this time. They seem to be like small test cases, meaning that our reactions to them, how we handle them, will show rather clearly where we’re at these days, as they say.

(“If you listen to your impulses and keep them clear—each one [in your sequence] will clear your path further. You both did wonder about the Silence Gallery affair, and decided not to mention it [to Jim Poett]. The call [which was action, a creative synthesis of your joint feelings], gave you information you didn’t have before—that The Voice [as an entity] knew of the Silence Gallery in a confused way. This means you can mention it and insist that they not be mentioned. It also means that you have additional knowledge to use in making your decision [about the interview].”

1. Learn to recognize and identify impulses, to separate one from the other.

3. Sometimes one impulse will automatically lead to another action. Its purpose is to lead you someplace else [beside itself].

There is something I want to tell both of you, and I hope you can see what I am trying to say. Ruburt does not need to apologize to anyone for his less-than-perfect physical condition, nor feel that his physical lack of mobility—relatively speaking—casts aspersions on the sessions or on our work. Nor need he feel that in contrast to our material his physical performance is woefully inadequate. The wording of that last sentence is important, for obviously his condition is inadequate—but he owes no one an apology in that regard.

One important issue is to forget “the world,” and instead deal with specific instances. The world is made up of individuals. Ruburt’s position has been conciliatory, and encouraged protection above expression.