“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] On various occasions, when the suggestions in his papers worked—you follow me—they worked because at the same time Ruburt was writing down his feelings: his aggressions and his fears.

[...] Through those years he considered himself an outcast from society, and he did not know where his abilities were leading. He tried to toe the mark while doing his own thing. [...] When Ruburt discovered that his energy and abilities had led him to a point where he was at odds with religion and science, and had no place to roost, thematically, he became very worried.

[...] His unconscious had learned to tread a careful line, to let Ruburt use his abilities while seeing that he was protected at the same time. [...] He stopped giving his unconscious feedback in that regard.

His survival in college, since he had a scholarship, was dependent upon toeing the mark, and even then he refused to do so; and was quite unceremoniously kicked out on his independent ass.

Ruburt should endeavor to forget his arms. He is overly concerned with them now, and this holds the image of them in his mind. This clouds the image of his arms in their normal healthy position. [...] His attention is directed too much toward them. (Long pause.) As for your earlier comments let him focus upon his general goals. [...]

[...] His energy is now, incidentally, normal— that is, his energy is at the point where it was, but now its emergence will not be blocked as it was at that point, just before his symptoms.

[...] Because of his background with his mother he had built up in defense a strong dislike, not merely for illness, for this (Jane, eyes open wide, pointed at me for emphasis), is beneficial, but a strong dislike (pause) that amounted almost (underlined) to hatred, for anyone who was sick, particularly crippled in any way, or hampered in motion.

[...] For his own development therefore he needed to face this on his own and conquer it. [...]

When man identified with the grandeur and energy of nature, then he knew nature’s reasons, for they were his own as well. He knew his death, his personal death, was only a transition, for his identification allowed him to feel the mobility of his consciousness, and allowed him to feel a sense of communion with the passing seasons, and with the ever-constant renewal of plants and fields. [...]

Those data were equal in his experience to those physical data of the world, so that the two kinds of experience constantly enriched each other. Man then understood that he did form his own reality in all of its aspects, both privately and en masse, and in terms of natural earth events, as well as for example the events of his society. [...]

[...] The earthquake is a mass natural catastrophe, seeming then to be perpetrated upon man and his cities by an earth that certainly does not take man or his civilization into consideration.

Private events of tragedy seem in a smaller context to happen without man’s knowledge or without his consent. [...] The world with its wars or disasters, its illnesses or poverty, its mass or private tragedies, seems to be thrust upon man or to happen—again without his consent.

It keeps him in touch with the powerful portions of his personality that search for truth, out of joy in the activity for the quest itself. [...] It inclines him to see his ideas as existing in direct conflict to those of your contemporary times. That focus inclines him to a quite literal insistence that his creative material should in its way act like some supernatural doctor’s prescription that can be at once taken like a pill to solve each and every problem of each and every correspondent, and of course to solve his own problems as well.

The poetry provided a direct expression of his ideas, and a protective coating as well. [...] As stated, this brought conflict with the church—a painful-enough period for Ruburt, but he was sure in his convictions. At the same time, poetry was and is creative play, and it sprang from the depths of his being. [...]

[...] He began in his own way to form his own theory concerning the nature of God and reality at a young age. [...]

[...] I have given more material than I can say on the subject of Ruburt’s attitude toward creativity and what happens when he emphasizes the idea of work as work, or as a career, above his spontaneous creativity. I got my message through to some degree on several occasions for example, when his arms were suddenly free. [...]

These previous cozy hopes of such acceptance were quite necessary to couch him as he went about his own searches, because he did not want to admit that he was, in a way, now, alone. His temperament is somewhat different than yours. You were alone in your family, but because he had no family his aloneness was so apparent that he tried to hide it.

[...] He did not have to examine each one minutely, for his abilities, after some familiarization, left him with the knowledge of their merits. [...] Ruburt tried to put his understanding to practical use in terms of daily life, your relationship, work, finances, his classes, yet he found himself with definite physical hassles. [...]

[...] These are ideas, then, that Ruburt must get through his head. It was necessary in the old frame of reference, that he believe his body could not work properly. [...] While it limited his inner and outer potential to some degree, he still felt overall that he was going ahead as fast as he dared to.

Since his consciousness and mine were more directly encountering our experiences, however, then the inconsistencies showed their strain more in his experience.

[...] Hence his later feelings that you loved him only for the sessions carried a certain charge. [...] He would quite literally do anything to retain your love—hence his feelings sometimes that you sent him out on this psychic pilgrimage. This feeling however, having its roots in “lack of rights” and his alliance with you, also provides him with the unity upon which his life is based: the poetry, the psychic work, and yourself. [...]

Ruburt’s sense of worth came from his writing self. [...] It carried him through all of his early years, this belief in the writing self that automatically justified his existence and more (underlined) than made up for any other lacks, he felt. [...]

[...] Nothing was his by rights. [...] His mother frequently told him that she would keep him only if he was good, that only Marie’s good graces kept the child from going to an asylum. [...]

This explains much of his behavior in terms of spending money at the store, and so forth. (Pause.) Give us time… He did not feel that any love was his by right, yours or anyone else’s: therefore he did not feel worthy of it, and in the face of any difficulty between you he suspected it, thought then that you no longer loved him.

He did feel that you had withdrawn from him as far as his writing was concerned, and he has a need for warm daily affection, which he felt you had also withdrawn, for varying periods, and that you did not care that he was feeling poorly. Of course he would not consciously admit these feelings, considering such sentiments were unbecoming on his part. [...] He felt closed off, yet did not consciously think his feelings justified. [...]

When he was in kindergarten his mother was just becoming ill. [...] He is not his mother. [...]

[...] Those qualities of his of which he became suspicious are those that made our sessions and his development possible.

[...] He has a habit of ignoring his subconscious, trying to reach other centers, not by going through the subconscious but by attempting to bypass it completely.

[...] Since you understand so clearly the reasons for his problem, his lack of belief in the fact that he can indeed get well, then do your best to remind him that he can get well. And that you are not as hypnotized by his symptoms as he is.

To some extent this belief of his is quite shared by you, and if his symptoms seem so self-evident to you, imagine how self-evident they seem to him. [...]

I told you both to do certain suggestions together, because your belief in them and your effectiveness could help him revive his own body beliefs. [...] While the main challenge is his, you can help by reviving your own beliefs that he can indeed return to normal physical behavior.

—sadly, and with a nostalgic remembrance, because you do not believe that Ruburt can change his beliefs enough, and this, you see, is precisely what he fears. It is, however, most probable simply because the evidence is before you in all areas of your lives—that his energy, when it is directed, is most effective. [...]

[...] He thought of his father—he thought of his father—as spontaneous, free, and undisciplined, as somewhat stupid and somewhat dangerous. He thought of his mother as possessing a strong will. His mother was authoritative to a degree. His father was lax. He feared his mother far more, however, and he tried to temper his own behavior, to ally the intuitions and the intellect or will.

It rearoused his desires to clean—desires that had been inhibited. [...] Physically used in such a manner, the chair does exercise his knees and feet, while his weight is not upon them entirely, and his thoughts are not on exercise.

He wanted to use his intuitive abilities fully, but felt that great caution must be used. He thought mainly of the health of your relationship together, and the health of his work. He became divided, seeing these as opposing tendencies in his personality, rather than as complementary ones that quite naturally met in his personality, so one was set against the other. [...]

Ruburt is beginning from his own position, and he is seeking the normal, free motion of his body. [...]

Intuitively he began to understand the physical connections between that kind of cold and sinus involvement, and his condition. (Gestures to include the whole body.) A cold is something that comes and goes, and is not permanent, and he is to see his other symptoms in that same light—not as he saw them earlier, as a permanent-like situation.

[...] He would feel out in the cold no longer for several reasons, mainly because the book so beautifully combined the continuity of his earlier life with his later activities.

(Long pause at 11:14.) The coughing has brought into activation the use of certain muscles also, particularly in the chest areas, and taken his attention way from other areas of the body that are being revitalized while his attention is elsewhere.

Then the cold did serve to drastically improve his health. Because he did not understand the nature of his beliefs however the improvement, while lasting for some time, deteriorated. [...]

[...] The possibility of his not using his creativity in this world no longer exists. The characteristics were meant to insure that he use his ability. [...]

[...] The love-making in particular must be encouraged, and it arouses your own spontaneity as well as his. [...] His inner self-image is changing. [...]

[...] In the past the balance of success versus failure in his eyes was so tipped at the failure end that he took but a mere breather of relief, then plunged ahead again with the same desperation. Hence, beginning each new book, he tightened his controls. [...]

[...] For example, while he was convinced—and he was—that he looked more than his age, and was unattractive, then the time element made him push even harder for success. He saw himself older, and in the light of that his success was not enough.

Because of his cultural beliefs, he was also determined that his “womanly nature” would not impede his progress as a writer, or yours as an artist. He considered it his duty to help you succeed as an artist, believing fervently that such was your primary desire.

The sessions, dream activity, Ruburt’s writing of books, his poetry and his painting—these states by themselves contribute to his health. Worrying, future projections of unpleasant conditions, concern over a public image, or whatever, even overconcern about his work itself—these cause strain and tension. [...]

He believed that his creativity was highly specifically oriented to its artistic expression only. He did not understand that the spontaneous self knows its own order (gently), or that the spontaneous creative self had any notion of his conscious needs and desires. [...]

[...] When he fell in love, it was wholeheartedly, and he was determined to merge his creativity and his marriage. [...]

At the same “time” his body kept trying to assert its privileges and natural life, but he saw it as a tool to work. [...] Even his writing time therefore became frenzied. He did not live in the moment, or know his body’s present reality. [...]

Now: all of Ruburt’s presently-past beliefs added up to his physical condition—his beliefs in the nature of time, work, the body, his particular nature—they all tied in together perfectly.

[...] His beliefs about time are important in relationship to his work ideas. [...]

The body’s weight was kept down for the same reasons, because he felt according to those old beliefs, that the body’s sustenance and substance in physical reality was not important in regard to his work. [...] The body with weight and substance might be unmanageable, filled with too much energy, and therefore want the physical activity he thought he must deny it for his work. [...]

The desire to write was not conservative, but in many ways his attitude toward it became so. His attitude toward his publisher has largely been the same. Ruburt is certainly not considered conservative, and yet a need for safety and security certainly added an overly heavy hand in his approach to life—particularly of course where the world was involved.

No one in his childhood, in his 20’s, or in your early relationship, ever warned him that he could become too conservative. It certainly did not seem that he was being overly cautious in any regard, and yet when his sexuality was perhaps most noticeable, he made sure he took up with a man, Walt, who could not take advantage of it—a very cautious step for all of its unconventional overtones.

Ruburt’s impulse to take Emir from Prentice—his impulse to call others, his call to Eleanor—all of these events represent a change of mood, and inner decisions of which Ruburt is not as yet aware.

People expect conventional behavior, so his spontaneity was then more apparent, and often frowned upon. The conservative behavior that, for example, kept him a virgin into his mid-twenties, was never understood by others—no one, for example, would have thought him at that time a virgin.

Old negative patterns of thought, always present beneath an exterior optimism, had gone unrecognized by him, and were like a thorn in his side. [...] They distorted his reality and his perceptions without his being aware of them.

Ready answers for he or his son would only betray them. [...] I will tell him that many of his worries concerning the boy are projections of his own fears, and will not materialize. [...] The best thing the father can do for now is to be simply kind to the boy, but relieve the child of his heavy-handed thoughts mentally. [...]

[...] Ruburt need not bear the weight of the world upon his shoulders (humorously throughout), nor take the responsibility of the universe. [...] God can handle his own problems and take care of his universe. [...]

[...] Ruburt for example has found out what certain mental patterns will do to his image, and he is now attempting to undo the damage that became apparent. [...] Now the sculptor does at times identify with his sculpt, but never entirely, and it will help him if he remembers that he did the damage, and therefore can undo it.

He had been fighting his own intuitional knowledge. [...] He had the ability, very strong creative energies, but he did not have the idea or principle to unite him as a personality and focus his energies. This has been given to him, though it has taken work on his part.

Ruburt has learned considerable control over his physical body, quite without realizing it, as a result of his difficulties. [...]

[...] Jane also wanted some kind of definite sign from Seth as to his presence and identity, that would be convincing to her.

[...] Regardless of what he believes about himself, his complete belief in me will only be arrived at intuitively and emotionally.

(This we did not know.) It was at the time of your illness that he began to conceal his feelings from you, and in a sense to coddle you. His overanxious behavior, its roots, have been given in other sessions. [...]

He then reverted to the alternate pattern of behavior he learned early (in childhood) as a defense mechanism, withholding his feelings from his own conscious knowledge as well as hiding them from you. [...]

[...] He feels as if his mother is getting your mother to do her dirty work for her, and when your mother said to him “You are a phony,” it was also his own mother for the thousandth time putting him down.

[...] On a few occasions he found it negative early in the game, but any criticism later of his relationship with publishers was taken to be a symbol of an anger with him because of his books, period.

His present mother, remembering subconsciously past transgressions of his, now counts upon his impulsive nature and sensitivity to pay him back, this of course representing a mistake on her part, for which she will have to suffer the consequences in still another existence.

(While Jane was delivering the material on Denmark and Triev, Bill said that he recalled quite vividly his experience with his “lost town” episode. [...] He first told Jane and me about his experience a year or so ago.

I will upon another occasion go into his lost town, and some of his other experiences. [...] The lost town incident was extremely significant to him, and represented his subconscious projection of a memory from a past life upon the present.

[...] His expression was very sympathetic. His lips were wide, indenting deeply at [...] There were no tears upon his cheeks. [...]

[...] He writes his own books because writing is such a natural part of his expression. It is his art. Ideally it is his play as well, and his books serve as his own characteristic kind of public expression, fulfilling the most private and the most public poles of his psychological activity. [...]

[...] The idea of a public life—to some extent, now—has hung over his head, so to speak, almost like a threat. He told himself that if he were using his abilities as he should, he would then naturally seek out their public expression. [...]

He took it for granted that, ideally speaking, he should do such public work, that it was his responsibility, but also that it represented a natural expression of abilities that he was denying because of his fears. [...]

[...] On top of that, however, you have the unconventional aspects of his own work that involves at least some controversy. [...] But he would not find that arena anymore to his overall liking.

(Pause.) Ruburt has felt too responsible to develop his psychic abilities, to produce another “psychically inspired” work of his own. [...] Therefore, left alone, Ruburt writes freely, and in an inspired nature because that is (underlined) his nature. [...] When he becomes overly concerned with ideas of responsibility to use his talent, then the love beneath them is smothered to some extent and denied its flow. [...]

[...] Ruburt has been trying out a system of values that is not naturally his own. He has told himself that his art must be used to help people primarily—as if that had been his main goal all along. [...]

His body is relaxing because it needs to, and he is finally allowing it. He was able to see the quality of his poetry today for his book. [...]

(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. [...]