“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(Last night Jane had a dream she didn’t like. She couldn’t recall it clearly, but it featured her talking to a man, objecting to him that he’d told her something he’d given her would be painless—but that it was instead quite painful: a suicide pill, or something like that, she said. “You told me it wouldn’t hurt...” I was there as a bystander. Jane had agreed to do something that wouldn’t hurt, but it did. I asked that Seth comment.

(This morning Jane and I worked with the pendulum on the question of inspiration, and discovered that there was much there to be learned and clarified in her attitudes, and mine too, for that matter. The three pages of questions we devised are on file. We learned among other things that Jane felt she had to hold off on new inspiration while we fulfilled existing commitments—schedules and contracts, etc., and that she wanted to help type “Unknown” Reality, Volume 2, presumably, I thought so that she could get it out of the way so she’d be free to go on to other things. I hadn’t anticipated her doing that kind of “work,” though. This afternoon she did type on the first session for the book, though, and said she felt much better. We asked that Seth comment on the whole idea of inspiration for her, beyond material he’s already given.

Ruburt has always rather envied your approach. His, relatively speaking, is a fiery approach. He is quite unaware, consciously, of doing any work for these sessions. He does, of course, for our communications do not just happen, and my voice (much louder, briefly) like his, is an inspired one.

You were quick to intuitively understand the nature of such inspiration. You were quick to nourish it. You helped give it form, so you do understand inspiration. It is not a luxury, but the nature that sustains each individual and the world. Ruburt has more than appreciated your support, and in fact you have indeed inspired him, so your conversation earlier upset him considerably.

The world thinks that inspiration is impractical, and you have both made unfortunate distinctions between inspiration and work. You can afford to do so more than Ruburt, since your natural working method falls more easily into that kind of context, where the effort shows in time. Ruburt cannot afford such distinctions.

When he thinks of work in that fashion, then feelings of responsibility, respectability, scorn or criticism emerge, to thicken the picture. He felt that inspiration was providing so much material that it could not be handled in time. He also felt that his inspiration threatened you with more work, which, it seemed to him, was not particularly pleasant for you, since you often spoke about your difficulties in doing the notes, and only lately have you begun to say when you are doing well.

Often my sessions are meant to lead him somewhere, or to stimulate him in certain fashions. Today he felt like acting actively with “Unknown.” Both of you there have concentrated upon impediments, and suddenly, finally, his desire led him to begin typing the book. He began thinking in terms of what he could do, so that now we see that he is not only physically desiring to do more, and trying it, but also mentally stimulated, and with a new sense of purpose as far as “Unknown” is concerned, and a desire reawakened to play with Seven.

I would like you to try something—and give it a reasonable try. Make an effort to alter your focus—just your focus—so that you concentrate upon what you want to do. If you do that, then distractions will seem to minimize almost immediately. Not only will you react to them differently, but the distractions themselves will vanish in a considerable manner. For one thing, your focus will automatically serve as a new point of organization in your own lives, so that you will automatically begin to sidestep many distractions of your own making. Life will indeed automatically seem simpler in that regard.