“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(This afternoon Larry Dowler of the Yale Archives called to postpone his scheduled visit of Thursday afternoon to next Sunday. I hope to feel better by then. Now here are the insights I picked up starting at 11:20 this morning, as I went about daily business:

—good evening. Pretend that you have two men. One cares little for the opinions of the world. He wants to spend his days in contemplation. He wants the freedom necessary to ask whatever philosophical questions come into his mind.

Basically, he cares not a jot for time as it is generally understood. He does not care for position or power. He only asks to be left alone in his contemplations, and to express these in whatever manner suits his nature. Actually, he is free of sex roles, and refuses stereotypes of any kind. He views cultural and educational establishments with a clear questioning eye. He cares not a jot for position or for money, but only for the freedom. He wants to study the world and nature, and the nature of men and ideas, and to search from that vantage point for some greater order, and some greater context in which life must reside.

Now we have another man, who is also contemplative and determined—but this man is pursued by time. He must show that he produces so much work in a given number of hours, so that others will know that he is diligent and filled with the good male attributes of a provider. He is very concerned about the opinions of others, and he wants to see the effect of his work upon the establishments of the world. He wants to know where he stands, and he wants to fit a neat category, so that he can say to the world: “If you are a shoemaker, I am something as definite; or if you are a professor, I am a writer or an artist, or a —?” He wants his contemplation to pay off, and he is very anxious about where his money goes.

That “work,” however, is in your case the natural gift of the first man described—and he, it seems, must work under the demands of the second man, taking all of his ideas of time, sexual roles, and social demands into consideration. You are not nearly as free of those as you might suppose—and I have mentioned that before.

You were both unconventional. On the exterior you broke conventions, but you were still tainted by conventional ideas. Even without the psychic endeavor, you both would have been bothered if, say, Ruburt succeeded as a writer of his own books, with no help from you of any kind, unless you succeeded as an artist. It was quite well known by both of you, however, that you disliked the marketplace.