“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(I was typing the first portion of last night’s session when I heard President Reagan giving his anxiously awaited first address to Congress; he spoke on economic issues mainly. I took a break at 9:15 to watch some of his speech on TV. Jane was relaxed on the couch as usual. Eventually, however, she surprised me by saying she’d try for a session. Earlier today she’d said she would have one tomorrow night instead.

(The president finished speaking. As the minutes passed and we sat waiting, I asked Jane what she was thinking about. She said she’d decided to hold the session because she “should” have it—whereas last night’s session had been quite spontaneous: she’d wanted to do it. Which raised some intriguing questions about the sense of responsibility she would still feel—indulging that very quality we’re supposed to be so on the lookout for. On the other hand, given our present work orientations the sessions would have to happen sometime during the week—at least twice—and it didn’t seem reasonable to think that Jane would have every one of those on the spontaneous spur of the moment. Somehow, somewhere along the line, some sort of responsible decision to have them would be made....

(I’ll note my question here so that it won’t be forgotten, although actually I mentioned it to Jane after tonight’s session had been held. Simply, I thought it would be a good idea if Seth would tell us about what good things we’ve managed to accomplish through the years as far as Jane’s symptoms go. It would be nice to know what hassles we’ve surmounted, that no longer apply. This would seem to imply that others had come along, or been developed by us, to take their place—at least something had been created to take their place. But surely we’ve accomplished some beneficial things too.

It seemed that this would be thrust upon him, however—that it was expected, and that indeed furthermore he should expect such performance from himself. (Long pause.) His own earlier attitudes about such matters began to seem cowardly, so he tried to divorce himself from them. That idea, however, together with the idea of responsibility, you see, was always in the background.

Ruburt made gestures of unconventionality. To go on public television, join the workshops and so forth would not be Ruburt’s way, even while he felt that such a course was expected of him. He thinks in terms of individuals. He distrusts crowds. (Long pause.) He has no use for congregations—but all of those feelings remained largely unexpressed in later years.

(Long pause.) Beside this, he felt that such a performance would alter the direction his work would take in ways that would be detrimental overall, for the broadening quality of that kind of discourse could only be as extensive in scope as the quality of his audience’s understanding, so that the material might become too tailored to public need or consumption—tied up in answering conventional questions—an excellent point, by the way.

It would do you both good if you took some time to become better acquainted with your own feelings about who you are or what you are, as opposed to who or what you think you should be, and why you think you should be different.