“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Your preoccupation with Ruburt’s condition, however, was beneficial for a while, because it upset the status quo, shook him up, and started him more firmly in the proper physical direction. [...]

Darwin was faced with the proposition of a kind god who was more cruel than any human being, and with supernatural power behind him to boot—so Darwin tried to justify God’s ways to man. [...]

[...] Before this latest episode that upset him showed, Important releases in the hip sockets occurred, with hardly any notice on his part. [...]

[...] We told him we were at work in the back of the apartment, and left the light with him.

[...] The exercises that I suggested Ruburt take also aid him in utilizing negative ions. [...]

[...] (Pause.) The men, I believe, were with him earlier rather than at this moment. [...]

[...] “Sometimes when we’re supposed to have a session I don’t feel him at all,” she said. [...]

[...] The bonding did not secure him that important and vital sense of safety, and to some extent or another he felt at least threatened by abandonment. [...]

In any case the “troublesome” material remained (long pause), relatively inactive more or less—unless and until certain situations arose, unless and until his curiosity and ability led him to actively challenge those ideas while also in a situation where the natural fear of abandonment might be implied or suggested. [...]

[...] “I feel responsible to get more on responsibility, I guess, where this afternoon I thought I’d like him to finish that chapter in his book and get started on another one. [...]

(At 9 PM I was thinking of telling Jane to forget the session when she remarked, “I almost feel him around.” [...]

[...] I also forgot to ask him to. [...]

Ruburt fears that if he were suddenly better he would add to your distractions, so when distractions seem threatening to you he emphasizes the symptoms: if he were better, would you want him to do all the chores? [...] If he were better he could help you with the chores—but if he could, would you then withdraw to your studio and leave them all to him? [...]

[...] You wonder what is wrong with him, that he cannot understand what he is doing.

[...] Writing would get him the fullest use of his abilities and fulfillment, his own approval and yours, financial security, and hopefully some kind of success in terms of a reputation. You must remember what I told you of your reactions during those years—but your situation, to him, meant that he must work twice as hard, and perhaps have to make it for both of you.

In that way of thinking, the symptoms gave him the opportunity to stay home and produce, and yet also served to keep you in a line of importance, for it would be obvious that his success was also dependent upon your help—and other nefarious connections that all fit in.

[...] I did not want him to strain, imagining himself upright under conditions that still would seem strange to him. [...]

Ruburt needed to hear the precise material that you read to him today.

(“He seldom asks me to read it to him.”)

[...] This love was biologically ingrained in him, and is even now biologically pertinent.

[...] Early man did not feel like an empty shell, and yet selfhood existed for him as much outside of the body as within it. [...]

[...] This can propel him or her into a rather severe schizophrenic reaction, in which the scientist now defends most fanatically the same ideas that he rejected most fanatically only a short time before.

(I’d left the house a little early this noon so that I’d have a bit of extra time to go up to room 522 at the hospital, to see if Joe Bumbalo was there — but he wasn’t. I made the trip again after leaving Jane, and this time found him. [...]

(To my surprise last Friday, October 21, I received a call from an old friend, Bill Ward, with whom I used to do comic books about 1940-2. He asked me to help him, probably on a regular basis, with some work, and I said yes. [...] I was working with him in the early 1950’s. Also, see Session 290.

[...] Bill refers to any problems in his letter, how to get in touch with him, etc., and implies that I answer it. [...]

[...] Extra notation by Jane: Bill Ward, while asking Rob to do the job over phone, told him of death of Wendell’s child, a school boy. [...]

[...] In the letter Bill dwells upon a dinner attended by himself, Wendell Crowley, and several other old friends of mine; the dinner being held just a few days ago; at this dinner Wendell mentioned my availability to Bill Ward for free-lance artwork, and this in turn led Bill to ask me to help him out.

(To me:) Now, you remember, because of one of your experiences and something I said in a session—or, rather, another portion of me said in a session —having to do with the fact that Seth II, if you could perceive him, would be as small as a brown nut. [...]

[...] Now, Ruburt also knew what was going to happen and that you would be involved, simply because the eye effect frightens him and he is always aware ahead of time of such activities on your part. [...]

[...] The first thing I thought of was Jane’s father, though—I didn’t actually see him, but I was telling Jane that at times I thought I did see the shape of the back of the head —I did associate that with his head.”)

We like to break things gently to him.

[...] Peg visited him of course on their return.)

^* In 1965, in response to my letter, an older and very respected parapsychologist — “Dr. Instream,” Jane called him — invited Jane and me to attend the hypnosis symposium he was to conduct at a New York State college. [...]

[...] Have him add simple, brief images of himself moving easily about. [...]

[...] Or do I have him earlier? [...]

[...] I have the impression also that he is discouraged, but affairs will work out well for him.

[...] Ruburt thinks of the package that his mother sent him, containing a sweater, and the stamp on the package.

[...] Jane’s mother and a Christmas present also entered the test data, for reasons we do understand; here Seth tells us that Ruburt thinks of the package that his mother sent him.

[...] She read a few of the poems from the book to Mr. Fell over the phone and outlined her ideas for its humorous format, etc.; to her surprise he requested that she send him the manuscript for consideration. [...]

[...] Jane of course knew of Ezra’s death although she had never met him; she agreed with me that “an unknown element.” [...]

[...] Inquiring at the plant the day after this session, I learned that he had been 60 when he died; this of course made him 56 in 1960. [...]

[...] I gave him the underground impression, but he did not translate this into grave, simply because he does not like graves.

[...] At first Jane stepped around him; finally, just beside my chair, she knelt, brushed Willy aside, and tried to pick up the insect he had been toying with. [...]

I know your cat meant no harm, and would regret depriving him of his playmate, except that when it is possible it is not only wise but advantageous to help any living creature, regardless of its stature in your scheme of things.

[...] It is partially constructed by him when he is in another room in your apartment.

He actually creates his own environment, but this environment is created by him according to conceptions received telepathically now, in childhood, in infancy, and even before birth.

[...] Seth gave a session on paranoia in response to that encounter [but not for the individual concerned, although Jane later wrote to him], then instructed us to lay the session aside for inclusion in a later chapter of Mass Events.

The physician is also a private person, so I speak of him only in his professional capacity, for he usually does the best he can in the belief system that he shares with his fellows. [...]

[...] Christianity, however, officially asks children of sorrow to be joyful and sinners to find a childlike purity; it asks them to love a God who one day will destroy the world, and who will condemn them to hell if they do not adore him.

[...] With a single look the artist has an immediate grasp of the entire work before him; he (or she) can tell what he’s done and has to do, what he may have to change or “fix up,” even if he fails at it. [...]

[...] When he left he took with him a contract signed by Jane for Oversoul Seven, plus two more Sevens, should she ever write them. [...]

Ruburt’s work with the contents of the mind, for example, is barely started, and I will include his exercises in my book (amused)—while giving him full credit, of course. [...]

[...] When he announces to you a new bodily feeling of release, to him personally it is as if he discovered a new planet.