“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] As it is, how can he dare express himself in the presence particularly of a man whom he feels he once betrayed? And when he speaks to him in syllables, he does not speak clearly. He does not owe the father any more than a normal filial devotion. He does not owe the father any more than that, and to seek the father’s pleasure superficially, or to try to please the father in fields where he has no interest, will not lead either to personal development or success, and will not help the father in any way.

The impediment, beginning in this life, 1507, represented a time when he did not speak out, and he should have, for a man’s life was at stake. He did not speak out because of fear, and now when he wishes most to speak out he cannot.

So, as the father pays back his old betrayer, he hurts the son without knowing why. He cannot understand his own cruelty toward him, or the acts which he is impelled to perform. [...] He, with his remorseless conscience, welcomes the cruelties, for they make him feel as if he is doing penance, and for what?

He has paid time and time again for this. [...] He was then, even then, conscientious, and therefore fourfold bothered more than most by his own betrayal. In his immediately past life he plagued himself through a useless arm; right arm, you see, so he could not point out again. [...]

He is more embarrassed now by his walking because of a healthy impatience that is understandable, but this must be kept under control so that it does not hamper him. When you are with him others do not offer to help—they see that he is taken care of. When he is alone and trying to be independent then people offer and he becomes dismayed. He used the last episode (on the back stairs) to trigger an important development in walking up the stairs, but he is not to imagine that everyone else is perfect because they look all right; then he deals with absolutes, becomes frightened, and exaggerates his condition, thinking in physical terms alone and forgetting those inner abilities of his, of creativity, that are indeed so important.

[...] His beliefs have undergone their most significant changes, in that he finally believes that he forms his reality, and can change it. Because he is the person who delivers the message, he had to accept himself before he could fully accept the message.

[...] He is only now beginning to trust his body, and those suggestions should by all means be continued as given. He concentrated upon proofs of the body’s “lack of dependability” in the past, and now is beginning to build up his faith in its dependability. Again, whenever he looks well tell him so, for your honest enjoyment of his person and body will now be of great value, since now he is open to that kind of appreciation. He can use it more constructively than in the past.

Ruburt believed he could wear only one pair of shoes. This was highly symbolic, meaning that he could walk only in one way. He purposely chose shoes that did not fit, in line with his past belief that he should not be physically active. [...]

Then he felt that you were accusing him of being stupid, but without trying to come up with any solutions of your own. Then he felt completely alone, with a problem he feared he could not solve. He looked to your reaction after any spontaneous behavior, and he believed, now, that your reaction was negative.

When you refused to dance, he interpreted this to mean that he was right: he could be spontaneous only as long as it was socially approved, did not hassle you, and when he did not stand out from the crowd.

He feared that left alone he would want to travel at the drop of a hat. [...] He thought he chose methods then that would annoy each of you the least.

At the same time you encouraged him to success, but he felt only to a certain point, for the fruits of the success you might find disruptive. In the family to which he has always been sensitive he believed his success put you down, particularly with your mother and Loren. [...]

I do not mean, of course, that he will automatically turn into a jellyfish when a good fight may be called for. [...] If he had set out, and he didn’t, to plan a process that would enable him to use his abilities to the fullest in his writing and other fields in which he is interested, and yet to discipline himself so that he did not scatter his abilities, if he had set out on a plan toward maturity, and to set definite controls upon his sometimes too fast, out-of-proportion responses, he could not have found a better path than the one which he is now following.

He starts fighting for position and authority, for which under ordinary circumstances he couldn’t care less. [...] This is not to say that he does not have grievances, or that he is not worth more money, but he wants more money for prestige reasons, rather than practical ones.

He is learning presently, and very well, to control this sometime condition; and it dwindles, to appear only occasionally in times of stress. Daily use of those particular back exercises, with their mental discipline, will further aid in his development, until he will find indeed that he can not only relax at will, but even when he does not have time to will relaxation, that is, relaxation will be the built-in conditioned reflex that panic used to be.

He, your director, has gamely held his ground. [...] He is not rubbing Ruburt’s nose in every misspelled word, nor is he suggesting, as Ruburt suspects, that Ruburt is a mental numbskull because he is a poor speller.

He must not immediately try to check out the results, but have faith that they will come. If he says, now, “I can get up easily,” and then he does not in the next instant, then he thinks he is faced with a new failure.

The point is that he expects a suggestion to take hold at once, and against countering suggestions that he may have given. For example: he will be working and want something. Perhaps four or five times he will think “Oh, hell, it will hurt to get up.” [...] Then consciously he will say “Now I can get up easily,” and wonder why it hurts.

He is afraid he will fall. [...] He still does not like the living room door closed at night. He feels closed in. [...]

He can do this by employing the exercises that you mentioned, that will show him a daily improvement that will help break the negative image and prevent further negative projections. He can do this by the daily walk. All of these help break the negative projections, and are already proof physically of inside willingness that is then physically materialized for him to see—in terms of physical performance that he can judge.

A sensible look at the picture therefore will show him that he is indeed far better than that feared image. Again, there must (underlined) be a concentration upon the health that he does have, and the freedoms he does enjoy, for these will lead to greater freedoms. This is his end of the picture right now, and what he should do.

[...] He is onto something with his theory of Aspects, but the theory is not as yet fully developed. What he has so far will lead even further. When he types up the material received so far he will make other new connections.

[...] Ruburt must act as if he has the resources, and then the resources show themselves. When he finds himself negatively imagining a situation, he must immediately realize this as a negative habit pattern. Then re-imagine the circumstances, seeing himself performing adequately, but without telling himself that he must be therefore perfectly all right on the next occasion. [...]

[...] If he wants new curtains or clothes, then the stimuli automatically activates the body to perform. [...] When he concentrates instead upon how he is going to get to the store, he is concentrating on the means.

[...] To that degree he feels at a certain disadvantage. If he simply did not want to make any public statements outside of the books themselves, there would be no problems there. He simply would refuse. If he were poorly equipped to speak in public there would be no problem. He found out, however, that he could (underlined) speak well. [...]

The trouble is that he tries to live up to an idealized image. [...] He thinks that ideally he should want to be a public person, to give and enjoy giving interviews to the press or television, that he should (underlined) carry our message out into the world, have sessions on television so that people can see how I operate (with amused emphasis). If he were not frightened, it seems to him that is what he would and should do. [...]

[...] He feels he is facing the nitty-gritty, determined for a way out, yet still at times he is afraid the worst possibilities will occur instead, and he is suspicious of changes in the body unless they are of obvious improvements. You have been of considerable help, assuring him that he is indeed protected, and he has been making strides there himself. [...]

He thinks that that background and temperament should no longer apply. That is, if once he disliked crowds, a new purpose and understanding should let him rise above such nonsense—but there has always been a kind of singularity there (long pause)—a characteristic need to go his own way. This does not mean that he has no need for expression. [...] He likes encounters with other people, naturally, but he does not like crowds nor speaking to a kind of mass mind, directly encountered. [...]

[...] He would produce as much, if not more, and of better quality, were he not so rigorous in this respect. For after a certain point of discipline is reached, he will operate well and effectively. But ideas will come to him in better fashion if he allots part of the day to spontaneous thinking. He sops ideas up in a spontaneous manner, and when it seems that he plays, even to him, he is working.

For upon his shoulders rests the burden of what he owns, and he fears with a steady, nearly unending panic that he will not be able to keep this, through ill health. [...] You do not realize that he has long ago made a bargain to give his family those things which he feels will content them, only to find them less content. For to deliver these things he must, because of his nature, deprive them of other more important considerations.

[...] He likes to think that under different circumstances he could live as you live. [...] He wants to help you, rather normally, because he feels rather illogically but understandably, that in helping you he helps a part of himself. [...]

[...] For when you are envious you become angry at yourself, but also angry at him, for you cannot help thinking that if he worked harder, if he did something, of what you are not certain, then he would make more money, and you could still have what envy demands. So here again the penis difficulty, for he sat home full time writing, while you work part time, and yet he has not made all that money.

He was so direct emotionally that he idealized what he thought of as your relative detachment. [...] At one time he felt his emotional spontaneity was indeed admired by you and encouraged, and he blossomed. Then he felt it threatened you—that it would form a barrier between you. He felt that you thought he wanted more than you could give—or wanted to give, practically speaking.

By nature he deals directly with people or events. When he feels that this is impossible and tries to do otherwise, he runs into difficulty. Because you are only now learning to verbalize your feelings, this means that he felt, particularly in the past, that you dealt with him opaquely in an area in which he did not know how to cope.

Lately he was convinced that he was unattractive to you from the face down, that you considered him stupid, as he did, while having physical difficulty; that you were a perfectionist and did not want to see crooked legs—that physically, not mentally, he got in your way, and that physically you did not look upon him with approval, as he did not.

[...] He felt that his obvious femininity was almost a threat to both of your works, that he had no right to look sexy and tempt you both when spontaneous love play, for example, would not occur. He remembers you telling him not to kiss you or be sexually provocative unless he meant it.

He sees before him the people he has known. In one way he is happy. He can show his aggressive nature, which is basically his creative nature, but he does not have to deal with it. [...] He has not learned the difference between violence and creativity, though they are closely allied, and he is frightened of the similarity.

Now he has been ten or so minutes late at session time, and the reason I should think is fairly obvious. It was also the reason why he suggested beginning a session earlier (this evening at supper time), though he did not know this; and in any case what he suggested, on regular terms, was not really what he wanted.

He was jealous of all (underlined) of his sons, not because your mother seemed to prefer them, but because he saw his own energy and life force giving independence in ways he could not control. He knows better now, but he is still left with the dilemma of freeing himself completely, and beginning again.

He will be reborn as a woman. This much he has decided. He will therefore become more aware of the spontaneous nature of creativity, for he will bear children. Your mother and he, beneath all of their difficulties in this life and in others past, have a deep relationship. [...]

[...] He knows when he spontaneously wants to go out, or to a joint, or whatever. When he tells himself that he must go out every day, then that feeling goes directly counter to his feelings that he may know quite well he wants to write and not go out. [...]

[...] Ruburt wants to write the bulk of the day, yet he now believes it is unhealthy to do that.... [...] He believes he should be working, yet also that he should be more physically active. [...] As you have told him, there is nothing wrong with working all day, and all night, as long as he is physically free, and is not working under enforced conditions.

[...] When he is writing and also thinking that he should go for a walk then the conflicts arise more strongly. He knows that he wants to be writing. The conflict itself then prevents the follow-through thrust, so that he does not feel the natural relaxation that would follow, or the natural resulting desire for activity.

[...] It is important however to realize that to some extent he feels that long hours of writing are now wrong, because of the physical condition in which he finds himself. [...] If he wrote, steadily even, and did not go out for two or three days he would not think that there was anything wrong in that—nor would there be. When the stint was over he would feel perhaps a strong burst of physically directed energy, and want to clean the house or go for walks.

He has mixed feelings about you and his book. On the one hand he would like you to read it as he goes along, and at times he envisions enthusiastic discussions about it. He thinks you have emotionally closed off from it since you never ask him about it. On the other hand he fears your disapproval and criticism, and thinks you will look for flaws, and so he lets matters stand there.

[...] He thought of getting up at four again. What he does is not nearly as important, obviously, as his feelings toward it—and he has highly negative feelings that cause him symptoms when he does not get up and believes he should. [...]

At the risk of being repetitive: if he concentrates upon his work, the morning issue will take care of itself, and by work I mean not only his writing, but his own individual psychic endeavors. He measures what he does daily against what you do daily, and feels automatically guilty if you do more than he, or even if he is doing watercolors while you are typing a session.

[...] In his books he is facing challenges he did not face earlier. [...] He wrote it through, and that was the end of it. [...] He did not need to deal with details, the same kind of organization and overall planning.

He intended a strong inner self to take over control of the entire personality. [...] Long after he wished the ego to return, the ego hid. He battered down his own doors. He is seeking enlightenment, but he was not strong enough to contain it.

He has been plunged back into a physical universe that he would not accept even as a valid mirage. This time he will be able to find himself within it. (Long pause.) In his case he must accept himself as a human being before he can hope to discover the inner self. [...]

[...] He has witnessed many sessions, usually stopping in on his trips into Elmira as a drug salesman. He is from Williamsport, PA. [...] John has never mentioned Baba before, nor had he read the 303rd session.

He has literally frightened himself away. He has disrupted the part of the self that usually deals with physical reality, and its manipulation. He tried to dispense with this physically-oriented ego, using shortcut methods.

[...] He agreed with you thoroughly there. Though he did not agree about your opinion of Prentice per se, involving the difficulty, he blamed the foreign publisher. He felt, however, that some of your own anger against the foreign publisher was directed at Tam. [...] He did not deny the fact of your own visually acute behavior. He felt stupid when you became annoyed at typos or misspellings or whatever that he did not even perceive until you mentioned them. He felt between you and Prentice and Tam at various stages, of course, and did not feel certain of his old capacity to set the relationship right. He also began to distrust his own earlier methods of dealing with the situation. [...]

(9:38.) He therefore became upset whenever there were difficulties in which you and Prentice disagreed, or you and he disagreed, and he became highly uneasy if you and Tam seemed to disagree. He began to feel less competent in his dealings. He began to feel somewhat humiliated that as a woman he needed his husband to take care of such matters, and he felt threatened not only by such circumstances, but of course by the changes going on at Prentice itself and by Tam’s own growing restlessness. [...]

Now overall he wanted an attractive package, of course, yet to him the book was in the copy mainly. (Long pause.) The Bantam photograph covers did displease him, but in a fashion he did not expect any more from the mass paperback situation. For some time he felt competent then in those business dealings. He felt loyalty to Tam, who he felt was loyal to him. At the same time he did not idealize Tam, and was well aware of some of his natural failings.

He trusted you in the manuscript itself of a Seth book to provide the accuracy of record, in which he felt he was himself relatively deficient, and also to contribute the background material he felt so necessary, yet which he found difficult himself, and he valued of course your loyalty, support, and inspiration. [...]

He is in possession of it. He has this mood. [...] He should realize that he is not defeated but that he has a mood of defeat. [...]

He is aware of this, but you are real to him in all of your Robert Butts time periods. [...] He does not realize you do not perceive yourself as one in these separate time intervals. He realizes this about himself but he has not taken it into consideration in his calculations.

He overestimates the difficulty of finding the causes, and this prolongs the process. He should not overwork with the pendulum. In one day, often, he stirs up many issues without getting to the bottom of any given one. [...] He is working well now, and this was at one time a major issue.

[...] He is progressing. Certain incidents, trivial in themselves, will at times carry a tremendous charge, not necessarily because he is repressing thoughts about the particular incident, but because the incident recalls unresolved past issues that he has psychically associated with it.

[...] He trusts our work far more than he did, and this is to our advantage. He is also beginning to trust himself, as a person. [...] He sees, for example, that he is also liked as a person who has certain abilities, and this is beginning to alter his beliefs about himself.

He still believes that he must hold himself in reins, because he will (in quotes) “run wild.” [...] At times it does become invisible to him, so a part of experience that he does not consciously realize it as an idea about his reality, and not a statement of truth regarding his nature.

You see, he was afraid that he moved too fast for his own good, that to move too fast was irresponsible. He must understand that the basic belief mentioned is a faulty belief, projected upon reality, and not a picture of it. That is one belief that he has not been able to separate himself from.

He has used it therefore as a counterpoint that he does not need. [...] If he had not trusted his abilities so much in his particular way, he could not have felt the other freely-spontaneous portions so threatening. [...]

He at least wished he could go into the yard this afternoon, once he imagined that he could make that step out. He wanted to pick his daffodils. He could not give in to that impulse yet, but before he would not have allowed it, because his position would then seem so hopeless in contrast. There are then several other such instances that he has forgotten, that are at least as important as the lapses that seem to loom so large. [...]

He takes new interest in what food is in your cupboard or refrigerator. [...] Today through such activities he found himself, if in a simple fashion, taking a few steps without his table to get where he wanted to go. [...] His thoughts were on what he wanted to do, though he very definitely had to consider the means, the getting about.

It is important that he used to promise himself that he would go on tours or television if he became well. This was actually a threat he held over his own head. You must both realize that he can indeed recover completely—and you must both want him to. [...]

He is afraid, of course, that if he “gives into” impulses other than writing for a day or so that he is lax, yet the exercise and relaxation of the body refreshes the soul and allows the intuitions their clear vision. If he can stand it, I would like him to take until Monday to follow his impulses, whether or not writing is involved. Then, as of Monday, he can begin to correlate the new physical activity with his writing, gently, by settling upon three hours a day of the basic “time put in”—but with the stress upon creativity, ideas, and free creative play that may or may not include Seven on any given day.

The nursery school was at the time the only move he felt really open to him. He was afraid he would not manage a steady income with the Avon, and already frightened of the mobility it demanded. [...] He felt guilty at turning down the yoga classes, yet he felt that to match your performance he was expected to work five afternoons. His symptoms were aggravated again on the signing of the contract, and highly again when he refused the summer position.

[...] Whenever he fights what you want, or believe necessary, there is a very strong reason, and you had both better inquire into it, for he does not cross you lightly. And when he does, he does so in such a manner as to shield himself from the knowledge, you see.

He felt his own respect and yours, he must take a job, and a regular one— and for the reasons given this had highly unpleasant repercussions that led to symptoms of immobility. These symptoms further aggravated his fears of dependence, and in his worse moments he feared that he would become a cripple and you would leave him. [...]

Even though he did not make the trip he came out on top. He was afraid to go in the last analysis, but he was not afraid to go for the old reasons.

[...] He is feeling more secure, and this feeling will grow as it sinks into his mind that he will not have to “worry” about his money productions for the next year, for example. He has also undergone in the past few months another level of development where he trusts his psychic abilities more than he ever did.

[...] He thinks of himself as someone who cannot. [...] At the same time—I do not mean simultaneously—in spare moments, playfully and not seriously, he should see himself performing any number of activities on the floor—from painting as he used to, to talking or reading. These are simply practical but important sideline exercises that will help break down specific detrimental images that he has. [...]

He is at a point where they are ready to break up entirely. I want to see that he takes advantage of this. [...] The spring and the recent good news are having an effect, and the knowledge he gained this afternoon has given him a conscious understanding that he did not have before; and this will automatically minimize the symptoms, in a way that is not at once apparent.

[...] He does not need to reinforce it with physical symptoms now. He does not need to fear he will be carried away through spontaneity. Age and experience provide checks and balances of their own that he did not have earlier. [...]

He feels a new freedom, realizing, because he can be such a knucklehead, though a beloved one, now that he has freedom to do as he desires, to hold sessions or not to hold them. Because he does at times use you as an authority figure, he did have a tendency to think that he must have sessions because you wanted them.

[...] (See page 272 of the 470th session, March 26, 1969.) He must be open about them, and they will vanish. [...] When he attempts to hide them from you he builds up the mood that they so dismay you. He takes an aspirin behind your back as if he were a secret alcoholic because he fears that you would be annoyed. Then this builds up within him the feeling that he is alone, and the mood builds up to which you then react.

Now the evil which Ruburt imagined he was projecting outward does not exist, but because he believed it did, he formed his materialization from his fears. It was the shape of the desolation he had felt last weekend. [...] But this fact is Ruburt’s safeguard in his astral travels—as long as he remembers it.

[...] He was actually getting rather tricky, and the accomplishment, while misguided, shows the growth of his abilities. Now had he been in severe difficulties someone would, have helped him. He has many friends, but it was best that he followed through on his own for his own confidence.