“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(Pause.) He considered himself to be excellent at his work. [...] He found it—his occupation—to be a responsible one, befitting an adult. The occupation filled many of his needs and expressed some of his abilities. In his spare time, however, for a lark, simply because he wanted to, he wrote his Alice in Wonderland—a book that is a masterpiece at many levels. What a shock when he discovered that the world was ignoring what he thought to be his important contribution to mathematics. He believed (underlined) that he should devote all of his time to his work, and could hardly forgive himself for his regrettable lapses into writing—and he was writing, after all, not even for adults, and not for young males either.

(Pause.) Because of his beliefs he considered himself somewhat of a failure, and the rich, evocative nature of his own stories did not meet with the approval of his academically attuned mind. Despite himself, however, he was stretching the dimensions of his own consciousness, exercising his consciousness in different directions, expanding the scope of his abilities—and in so doing contributing a small masterpiece to the world. [...]

He was, in a fashion only, sexually ambiguous, his mathematics expressing what he thought of as an acceptable male aspect while the artistic levels in his mind, now, he related to his feminine aspects. [...] His creativity showed itself, however, when he allowed himself to play, when he forgot what he thought he should do, and did what he wanted to do. [...]

Those sketches of his, it seems, do not stand up as creative products as a great sculpture might, but they stand for a truly creative originality in which a consciousness played with internal material, and projected outward many of the material properties that then simply did not exist. Much of his art in those terms did not show, but the art of his consciousness expanded beyond Michelangelo’s.

You always recognized and envied his spontaneous nature, without realizing consciously that it operated despite his intellectual disapproval of it. Through his difficulty you are saved considerable problems, for through his experience you understand the dangerous inhibiting nature of overrestraint. It is because his spontaneous self is so strong that the conscious self had to learn to cooperate, if the personality was to achieve full stature.

[...] As Ruburt thrusts ahead, trusting his ability in his poetry, so he should in his psychic work, and now in vigorous physical activity. [...]

[...] Now he must trust himself to move physically without thinking, and as much as possible to let his body act in a spontaneous way. [...] This does not mean he should ignore discomfort particularly, but he should take his conscious mind away from his physical body and let it operate alone.

[...] An excellent example presents itself in the manner that Ruburt utilizes intellectual and intuitional knowledge in his poetry. This same spirit should be used in approaching our work, and in his general living pattern.

Yet for the entire time he began to wonder, regardless, about his position at Prentice. [...] But this meant in his case: should he try to exclusively be the literary person again? Yet he found that these people wanted his psychic work most of all. And that while they appreciated his other work, his main value in their eyes lay precisely in the field that he thought would mean nothing to them.

Ruburt is motivated quite simply and powerfully by his love for you and his work. Since he has known you these have been the two main directions out of which his being flows. [...]

Yet these people were coming to Ruburt because of his psychic work, and his psychically inspired writing. Eleanor, he discovered, was anything but his idealized concept of a literary editor. [...]

[...] When Ruburt had outside jobs he used encounters with others to take up the slack that existed between his emotional nature and your own. [...] He was also extremely concerned that he learn to discipline himself—now that he had an entire day, and to prove to you his appreciation of the fact that you were still working out.

A good number of his depressions were body depressions. [...] He hides his body in his dress. His face is in good condition because he considers that the mirror of his soul, and allows it therefore free-enough expression. He trusts his head.

[...] He feels his body’s condition should tell you how devoted he has been to his work, instead of getting at it for not walking right or eating enough. He feels you should consider his condition as one of the means adopted in a goal in which you both believe. He was then afraid of giving up the condition for fear of using physical energy at the expense of mental energy, and hence at the expense of his work.

[...] He would hide in his poetry. [...] He had no great faith in the body because he saw how his mother’s behaved, without any knowledge of the reasons. [...] He trusted his mind, so the idea of retreating from the body into the mind was quite logical to him when this began. [...]

He was trying to sublimate the energy, to take it away from the physical so that it could be used more productively, to his way of thinking. [...] He was afraid of frittering away his energy. This was his idea of conserving it.

He tried desperately to schedule his highly creative productivity to fit that pattern. Whenever he had difficulty writing he would become more and more particular about his writing hours. He found that sometimes his so-called writing hours were not as productive as his after-hours writing. [...]

Sometimes after a full writing day, without too much actual creative production, he would do his best work in his free time after supper, when he did not have to work. So then he thought “I will schedule those hours into my writing day,” and suddenly they became prosaic, and often lost their magic because then they became his working hours.

Working on his book today (Aspects), Ruburt made some important connections. I will put these into context, and add other information that he did not get on his own.

From now on he should forget the word “work” in reference to his own writing. [...] The connotations of the word crept into all areas of his life, tinged by unfortunate beliefs connected with the word.

(10:01.) Augustus Two, you see, believes that his body is nearly invincible, and following this belief the body does perform much better. [...] His purpose in this case is quite clear and simple: He is to help Augustus One, to use his power on the latter’s behalf, rewarding his friends and terrifying his enemies. [...]

His nature is protective. The basic ideas and beliefs that have been personified into his being, that became his being, were formed to protect Augustus One from the destructive ideas given to him in his childhood, to combat the beliefs in powerlessness and futility. [...]

His beliefs in his unworthiness prevented him from using his abilities, or even pursuing a course of effective action, with any persistence. [...] In his own way Augustus Two would prove to her that she was married to quite an unusual, powerful man, a paragon of virility and strength; but to do so Augustus One must appear as Augustus Two to her. [...]

[...] He believed that he was utterly powerless as an individual, that despite all his efforts he would come to nothing, go unnoticed. [...] At the same time he let his conscious mind wander, and to compensate saw himself as all-powerful, contemptuous of his fellow human beings, and able to work greater vengeance upon them for their misunderstanding of him. [...]

Ruburt’s grandfather gambled compulsively in an attempt to hide his sexual wants, and deny them. He did not trust the body—his or anyone else’s. There is no need to go into his reasons here. [...]

[...] The ape was at home in the library, and his face was compassionate. [...] Ruburt’s idea was still one of controlling those instincts and his “animal” abilities. On another level, because the ape was in the library, compassionate and understanding, Ruburt was seeing symbolically the force of his own physical nature, quite at home with itself, and at home in the psychic library of the mind.

[...] In learning to trust the changes in his body occurring now, Ruburt is at the same time learning to trust his own instincts, and the creaturehood of himself. [...] In his own way however Ruburt began a shaman’s journey for himself, letting the psyche’s images become alive, and the inner workings of the mind made more obvious.

He also identified with his grandfather as a child, seeking protection from his mother in someone who seemed to love him more. The negative image, dashed then, gave forth the symbolized image that he had been using in his mind. [...]

All of his interest in painting is used as a supplement to his interest in medicine. [...] The painter’s intent is embedded in his medium and in his painting.

The drugs not only help him but they also have the effect of emphasizing his presence on his journeys, of concentrating his essence, isolating and focusing those portions of his psyche. [...]

Your own abilities are quite adequate, with his knowledge, to enable you to project to his reality with his help. [...]

Following our analogy, you will be his guest and from his rooms look down into your own with some greater objectivity. [...]

[...] Many were killed upon his word. His sense of energy was boundless, and he was convinced of his purpose. [...]

Yet his emergence was important, reminding the race of the perils into which it could indeed fall. [...] Part of his vitality and what would have been his redeeming qualities, were sunken in the past in which he did not exist.

[...] He called Jane last Friday from his home in Bridgehampton, New York; he wanted some insights into his writing of Seagull; Richard attended ESP class last night, and heard Seth, Sumari, etc. [...]

His reading for Richard was also symbolic. It represented the acceptance by another writer of his psychic abilities as well as himself.

If possible he should make a strong effort to recall his previous sense of flexibility and not identify his personal image with the condition of his physical body during his difficulties.

When Ruburt’s mother went to the hospital in his high-school years, he had a symbolic way of ridding the house of her psychic presence, and to add to his own sense of inner freedom. [...] This also has a therapeutic symbolism for him in connection with his grandfather, that is the feeling that cleansing nature rids the air of impurities. [...]

The change of environment, out of the apartment, was partially suggested to break any suggestions that might be arising simply from the length, in your terms, of his difficulties. [...] He should make a definite determined effort to walk home, for his confidence will grow with the success, you see.

[...] Concentration on his writing in the morning helps rid him of symptoms, and so does concentration at nursery school, for his attention is otherwise centered. [...]

Ruburt in the meantime had felt his body relaxing. He wanted to go out in order to show that his attitude had changed. [...] He went to the bathroom, and as he did he knew at once that his bodily situation had changed. At that point he immediately took it for granted, with a rush of self-disapproval, that this was a sign that he had learned nothing, and that his body was objecting to the whole idea of going out, and therefore challenging him—in other words, that his negative beliefs had risen to challenge new healthier attitudes.

Ruburt does the steps, something he does not do inside—a change for the body, and a good one—but in his position an exercise in itself. Both of you even refuse to think of using the table in the garage, so Ruburt forces his body into the most unnatural of positions so that he can lean upon the car. [...] He made it to the car, knowing that on the other occasions that his body had so protested he had had difficulty. He used his resources to try to change the situation. [...]

[...] Ruburt’s eyes have been improving, as his typing Emir shows. Not only did he see better, but his hand and eye coordination considerably increased, as did the flexibility of his fingers. During your ride, he noticed that his vision then was a good deal better.

(10:02.) Ruburt went out to his room. [...] Even then Ruburt was tempted to have Wade come, but his own disapproval, and yours, made it obvious that to do so would certainly be a copout. His body was not ready.

If he feels this is withdrawn his secure confidence is shattered and his energy dwindles. In his case however there is no danger that you would be emotionally smothered, for he has also this love of work and isolation, and feeling for his and your independence.

This was largely caused by his realization of your jealousy, and his reaction. [...] Simply because his energy is so concentrated it resulted, misdirected, in such severe symptoms.

[...] His loyalty is indeed deep and unswerving. [...] It is given, his loyalty, to very few, even throughout various lives.

[...] Given this, his energy on your behalf and in your behalf knows no bounds within the potentials of his personality.

[...] He felt a responsibility, in his terms, to be psychic. [...] (Pause.) It is no more his duty to be psychic than it is his duty to be human, or creative. It is simply his nature. For some time therefore he curtailed his own dream activities, projections and other such adventures. [...]

One point: your friend the Jesuit (Bill Gallagher)—his symptom is hidden within his tissue, and not physically observable. Its buried nature, the ulcer being hidden, is an added indication that he does not want to face his problem. [...] He was more determined to discover the reasons for his problems, and the learning process is much faster. [...]

[...] On the other hand the moving of the bookcase to divide the work area showed even before his novel idea that his spontaneity was emerging fully within his work again, and that the work area was therefore to be separated from social activities.

At the same time in his mind, the work area was enlarged, since before he considered it to be composed psychically of his table area alone. [...]

He had to realize his fear and his terrible dilemma in regard to Eleanor because it showed in concentrated form his own fear about his being able to succeed on his own, hence his dependence, that made him resent Eleanor. [...]

Adventures served as the vehicle that brought to light many of his feelings against the psychic field, or rather his part as he saw it in it. [...] One purpose was his realization that such a book, for now, even at his best, with personal orientation, was not his cup of tea. [...]

The cold and the jaw difficulty—both of these were his physical interpretation of a growing crisis that had to be faced. [...] The critical period is over because of his recognition of the problem and his determination to face and solve it.

[...] The tooth was meant to get his attention, to make him realize the importance of acting now. [...] It is of great importance now however that he write down his thoughts as begun each day. [...] These are normal feelings and thoughts that gained such charge only because they were collected about the unfaced dilemma; whether or not he could make it on his own, or could afford the opportunity to try.

For some time until recently he was afraid, as mentioned, that his body could not recuperate. [...] The belief behind all of this is simple, and you have it—that all of his energy, concentration, and attention had to be devoted to his work. Because he is so literal-minded this was his interpretation of it.

[...] He was ashamed to be seen in it, and yet it serves a beneficial purpose, for his own love of his body will automatically cause it to gain weight. His pride will do it for him. [...]

[...] His idea of work on one level is connected with the working day. His problem, the artificial dilemma that exists in the daylight hours as to how to spend the time, and the fear that ordinary distractions will take him from his work. [...]

[...] If a male writer or artist had to work to develop his abilities, then a woman had to work twice as hard. You also picked of course a woman you knew would not want children, but Ruburt felt a division between his biological nature and his art back then.

[...] His thoughts of late are good. His abilities need stimulation, a richer diet of activities. He can understand that the best way to use his abilities to their fullest is to relax his body and his mind, to allow both greater freedom, and to exert both. [...]

(9:37.) Ruburt needs your help once again to reassure him that relaxation is safe, that it is safe to let go, that he will not fall into darkness, that his muscles will actually become stronger as they relax, and that his creativity rises to the surface when his body and mind are more relaxed. [...]

(Pause.) These sessions themselves involve the highest levels of creative productivity, at many, many levels, so he should refresh himself painting or doing whatever he likes, for that refreshment adds to his creativity, of course. He will finish his book (God of Jane), and do beautifully with it. He should follow the rhythms of his own creativity without being overly concerned with the time. [...] His book will be provided for. [...]

When you mentioned his ink sketches, he instantly wanted to play at painting again, but felt, guiltily, that he should not. He forgot, once again, that the creative self is aware of his entire life, and that his impulses have a creative purpose. [...]

[...] He has been doing very well, and he tried to approve, but since he lost work time yesterday his approval barely went skin deep (louder).

(“What was that feeling he had today in his chest, back and body, like an electric pulsation?”)

[...] His legs and knees can bear his weight. [...] The belief that his legs and knees cannot support his weight is an old belief, and a belief, not a statement of fact in basic terms. [...]

[...] 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 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. [...] 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.

[...] He was not trustful enough of his own being to handle his daily life in more isolated circumstances.

[...] (An important point to remember.) He was determined to go his own way. His being demanded expression through the use of its abilities, and despite his need to be accepted by others he began to exaggerate the threat of their disapproval into scorn. When he began to sell his work, he felt to some degree, now, dependent upon the acceptance of the others in the world—for if they did not accept him at all they would not buy his books. [...]

[...] 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. [...] Such activity increases his sense of power, minimizes his physical hesitancy, and mobilizes physical activity.

[...] The answer is that as beneficial, as desirable, as good health is, and the performance of an excellent body, man’s pursuit of other kinds of accomplishment, his equally strong desire for knowledge, and his insatiable curiosity, his pursuit of the ideal, often lead him into pathways that result in the body’s difficulties.

[...] 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.

What was not said is this: he felt that no one with whom he had been intimately involved believed in him as a person, or trusted his intrinsic value, except for yourself. Your meeting and love helped reinforce all of his own creative aspects and rearroused his faith in himself. [...]

His mother, Father Ryan, Walter, some college friends, Mozet, Hays, all of those persons in one way or another implied strongly at times that he was either a saint or a devil, a creator or a destroyer. He held his faith in himself despite those odds, and because of the vitality of his youth.

[...] His desire to forge ahead philosophically beyond any school or church also was involved, and his artistic endeavors—which bloom in my books, now, as well as in his own work.

[...] It was because of his great love for you and his knowledge of your great love for him, that your disapproval, by contrast, was (underlined) so chilling.