“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(This session came about because of a phone call I took today from the publicity department at Prentice-Hall. The young girl made an innocent-enough request about Jane doing a radio-phone interview with a station in Houston, Texas. A few weeks earlier Jane had tentatively okayed with publicity the idea of doing an occasional radio-phone interview, based on the condition that first she obtain one of those desk microphones/telephones so that she didn’t have to hold the phone for an hour or more. She’s tried once to locate the equipment, but failed.

(For several days now I’d been thinking about a remark of Seth’s in one of the earliest of this group of sessions, to the effect that Jane’s symptoms would get worse before they got better as we tried to cope with them. I’ve wished, often that I’d asked him to elaborate at the time—or at least marked the session so that I could find the remark later. Well, now Jane’s symptoms are worse. Before the session began I tried to locate the remark, but couldn’t. I felt considerable frustration, and finally laid the book aside. “Well, I hope I don’t ever have to find a specific remark in these sessions any more, “because it’s becoming impossible.”

(“But it’s the same old story,” I told Jane when I asked that she have a session tonight, to deal with her hands and arms, and Seth’s remark. “I’m the one who’s asking for it, not you.” What I wondered, of course, was why she wasn’t the one who demanded the help.

(One of the obvious reasons, I thought, was that the portions of the personality that were acting up became so powerful that they prevented or subverted a simple thing like asking for help to deal with a problem or challenge. Whatever struggles lay behind the hand and arm symptoms, for example, adopted their own protective armor, resistant to change....)

For some years, to varying extents, Ruburt and you also to a lesser degree became motivated by ideas of who you should (underlined) be, what you should (underlined) be doing, and what your responsibilities were. That tendency became stronger as our “work” became better known. To some extent—with some important variances, having to do with quite legitimate ideas of art—such feelings have also been behind many of your own responses to, say, the appearance of the books, as public packages in the world (intently). In Ruburt’s case the idea of responsibility became far more pervasive, resulting in what I have referred to as being almost a superself image—an image composed of his ideas of the kind of person he should (underlined) be in his position. That image largely at least ignored his own likes or dislikes. He felt he should do many things, for example, that he did not really like to do at all. Small doses of such attitudes can be handled, of course: people do not have to be entirely satisfied with their own performances in order to be reasonably happy and healthy. Remember that you react to interior events, not just to physical ones.

He writes because he wants to create a unique world, one in which during the act of creation as a creator he is in charge, and yet while he is in charge he is in contact with a certain magic of creativity that gives him experience with greater realms of being. People of that nature have very private ways, and to some extent now those ways involve a deliberate (long pause) repudiation of the ordinary world—not that they need to stop relating to it, but that they must momentarily forget it in light of another vision. This applies to you as well as to Ruburt. (All very intently.) You do not feel the need to go on tours, for example.

(9:38.) In a way, Ruburt’s symptoms ended up as providing a system of controls, serving in several rather than one area, but areas that he is now exploring in rather concentrated form. The symptoms did serve partially as face-saving devices, and for both of you to some extent, to explain behavior of your own that perhaps you did not understand—though this largely involves Ruburt’s behavior, of course.

The overdone sense of responsibility can erode love and satisfaction. Ruburt “loved” to do housework at one time. Later his ideas of responsibility told him he should be working—not because he wanted to be working, but because he should be. At the same time those same worldly concerns led him to wonder about the validity of his own “messages”—and how responsible he was to the world for them—so the symptoms also served to give him a greater sense of caution, to temper creativity, for all the reasons stated in the Sinful-Self material.

(10:20 PM. The session had been excellent—so excellent that I’d felt like interjecting many questions as Seth preceded along: one of those times when I had a hard time not injecting myself, with my own impatience, into the session. I did explode at its end briefly, however, and Jane sat silently while I ranted and raved.

(I do think that it will all serve a valuable purpose, however, if we clear up the one major stumbling block over publicity—whether to do or not to do it. If we have solved that dilemma, well and good. Earlier I asked Jane if she was willing to stick by her decision to forgo public life, as stated in the letter she wrote Prentice today, and she said yes. I certainly am, let the chips fall where they may. I for one have no real idea of how Prentice-Hall may react, although Jane told me today that she’s picked up that Prentice-Hall plans to be much more aggressive on questions concerning publicity. I don’t think there will be any hassle, for surely the people at Prentice-Hall know enough about Jane’s abilities and sales and productive talents to know a good thing when they have one, whether or not publicity is involved.