“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

He would, believe it or not, have ended up with a higher title within five years, though not of director, and it would have so soothed his inner ego that it would have settled for this. But his inner drives would never have let him settle. However, I wanted him to make the adjustments necessary to maintain balance and outward cordiality with the director, to aid his own understanding, and so that his resignation, which I hopefully foresaw, would be relatively painless.

The final culmination of the dream, when he did scream and run away, represented his subconscious giving him its solution. The position was threatening because it represented a possible dilution of his energies from his main objective of writing, into a superficial ego satisfaction, which would have left him basically not only unsatisfied but personally betrayed.

His personal subconscious, to my relief and I hope to yours, takes care of itself quite adequately through the sublimating fabrications of fantasy into creative prose and poetry, in which I am in no way involved. I make no attempt, for example, to inspire Ruburt in his own creative work. [...]

[...] It may not, the position may not really mean much to him, but its acceptance by him was taken as a sign of his willingness to accept conditions at the gallery, and his resignation will not be as understandable to those there as it would have been earlier.

The crisis situation led him to concentrate upon his difficulties, which aggravated his stress, of course. The discomfort and concentration cut down on his creative abilities, which added to the problem. [...]

(Pause at 8:30.) His fears have to a strong extent come out into the open: the fear that he will not be able to go ahead or of blockage, that fear being physically translated—but again, it stands for an inner fear that he has creatively blocked, or psychically blocked, that he has learned—that his own fears stand in his own way and cannot be resolved, or that he is at an impasse. [...]

(8:54.) Ruburt always wanted to help his mother, and felt largely powerless to do so. His mother’s condition made him ask questions, of course, concerning man’s condition, at a very early age. [...] Again, he was in no way responsible for his mother’s condition, however, or for her unhappiness, nor is he in those terms responsible for the unhappy situations of other people. [...]

[...] He also promised to call an ophthalmologist friend of his, to explain Jane’s case to him and hear what this individual—a Dr. Werner—had to say about Jane’s double vision. Thus, tonight in his call Jim told me that Dr. Werner had said that Jane’s double vision was “the end result” of something muscular in nature. [...]

He has not as yet changed his viewpoint to that of a normally flexible person, but it is vastly improved from the one he had only a short while ago. It is true that he is quite aware of his bodily conditions, and yet overall he is not concentrating upon them, or regarding them negatively. The new viewpoint, with its new attractions—helping with work, helping with house chores—these automatically take his mind elsewhere, and act as further stimuli. [...]

The library takes little time, but he should turn his focus more toward his timeless encounters, and toward the playfulness of his creative and psychic abilities.

[...] He is discussing his feelings openly with you. [...] He is quite importantly beginning to change the viewpoint from which he previously viewed his reality. [...]

[...] There are other times when he definitely feels like putting his weight upon his legs, and walking, and he should be very faithful about following that impulse. [...]

(Very long pause.) As his abilities grew, however, of course he sensed the outlines of other realities, the glimmerings of other worlds. He sensed these cousins of consciousness in one way or another—these environments that seemed real but not real, these further extensions of possible experience, and he decided that he must be very cautious: he must be prudent (long pause), he must take his time, he must range but carefully—and certainly to some extent such feelings cut down upon his spontaneity. [...]

[...] Ruburt carries his protection and safety wherever he goes. [...] His psychological stance is honored wherever he goes. [...]

[...] So far in our discussion of his own situation, we have not for good reason touched upon certain material because he was not ready for it. [...]

[...] It is as if (pause) man could not understand his own potentials unless he projected them outward into a godhead, where he could see them in a kind of isolated pure form, recognize them for what they are, and then accept them—the potentials—as a part of his own psychological reality (all very intently). As a species, however, you have not taken the last step. [...] I am not speaking of evil possibilities, but that man must realize that he is responsible for his acts, whether they are called good or evil.

In your terms of time, man has always projected unassimilated psychological elements of his own personality outward, but in much earlier times he did this using a multitudinous variety of images, personifications, gods, goddesses, demons and devils, good spirits and bad. Before the Roman gods were fully formalized, there was a spectacular range of good and bad deities, with all gradations [among them], that more or less “democratically” represented the unknown but sensed, splendid and tumultuous characteristics of the human soul, and have stood for those sensed but unknown glimpses of his own reality that man was in one way or another determined to explore.

[...] Some stood for forces of nature that could very well be at times advantageous, and at times disadvantageous—as, for example, the god of storms might be very welcome at one time, in periods of drought, while his powers might be quite dreaded if he overly satisfied his people. [...]

You make your own reality, Man’s “evil” exists because of his misunderstanding of his own ideals, because of the gap that seems to exist between the ideal and its actualization. [...]

[...] When I checked his home phone, Paul told me he’d taken the day off; he offered to look at Jane here at the house. When he’d done so later in the afternoon, he further offered to do the necessary work here at the house, saving Jane going to his office. [...] After he’d left, we could see that in actuality Paul’s visit had offered all that Jane could have desired, under the circumstances; we hadn’t asked for any of it, even his preliminary visit to the house to examine Jane this time—although he’d done that on a couple of previous occasions, again without being asked by us.

Briefly, Paul is a good man, quite concerned in his own way about the welfare of his fellows, and trying to help them in a very practical way. (Humorously:) Mending mouths will be his pearly gates to heaven. [...]

What you have then was Ruburt’s desire to have his teeth fixed, when it was obvious that he must, and his fear that he could not perform adequately at this time. [...]

(Thus, Jane found his offers of help at the house to be just what she’d have asked for, given an “ideal” situation. [...]

[...] Ruburt is working well with his beliefs, and seeing them reflected in all portions of his life as mentioned, Dialogues, some other thoughts he had only beginning to be expressed in Tim’s (Foote) letters and his work, are working together in a therapeutic framework.

Now you know that part of his deep love for you is reflected in these sessions. The answers given symbolically are to your parents as well as his, and to all those who need help. [...]

[...] He can allow himself more freedom in his classes, and he will, for he has learned much. There is no need to fear his own spontaneity now.

This plateau of his is not permanent, in that his condition will further improve. [...]

The beginning of his classes was another important element.

[...] The deep color, however, of the blue reflecting his own desire for contrast.

When he worries about his book, this is simply a demonstration of the still-remaining lack of trust in the motion of his own psyche. The painting, however, and the poetry, sets him into motion, releasing the trust that will then flow into his other writing. [...]

This means that he is bravely and fully encountering himself, so if he comes up against worries for example about his work, tell him to be patient. He is encountering and solving his difficulties. [...]

He cannot fake it, so he improves in direct proportion to his growing trust of the inner self.

The activity can result, again, in unevenness of function at times, and it is precisely here where his trust is important. [...]

[...] He was not sure enough of his new world, still enough a part of the old one so that he saw his life and abilities often through the eyes of the “old world inhabitants”—the others who might scorn him, or set him up for ridicule.

They represented parts of his own psyche, still, at that level of consciousness, not having quite assimilated the greater knowledge or experience, so he felt he needed protection—the protection that would beautifully, cleverly and insidiously serve all of his purposes, allowing him to go ahead as he wanted to, but with control drawn back to the body’s discontent. [...]

Now this is because Ruburt did not want to encounter his own past emotional history in this life. [...] This reaction however helped Ruburt to overcome his blocks against reincarnational aspects, and so each of you help the other in that regard.

[...] Indeed, though he dislikes the word, he is finishing the first portion of his apprenticeship, in which he became acquainted with a different kind of reality, and had to learn how to equate it with the “normal one.”

[...] His intuitions were always very strong. Well, now he has his discipline, but it has been overdone. [...] He is now doing better with his psychological time experiments, and he must let this spontaneity expand into other aspects of his life. [...]

[...] The reason that his paintings upset him is that they reflect his inner knowledge, of which he is well aware. It is true that his poetry does also, and over the years he has come to take this for granted. But the paintings, especially the late ones which are so much improved over his earlier efforts, are new to him. [...]

[...] Along with this Mr. Macdonnel will have on display some of his oils, watercolors, and graphics. Walter Buhr has had his work shown in numerous galleries in New York State as well as in Pennsylvania. He is starting a sculpture class as well as working at his own sculpturing. [...] His art has also been exhibited at Arnot Art Gallery in Elmira in group shows, and in Scranton, Pennsylvania.

(After the session Bill finished for Jane and me the “press-release” kind of account about his gallery that he’d worked on while we talked before the session. [...] He signs his paintings by his middle name, Cameron. [...]

[...] His identification with the importance of the mind, then, and his focus as a writer, allowed him to inhibit physical motion in a way you would not have done. The dancing represents Ruburt’s end of the sportsman proposition—his gymnastics.

[...] For Ruburt, dancing, his one inclination to flaunt himself, comes into direct conflict with your ideas of privacy and secrecy. When he is obviously not in the best of physical condition and then wants to dance, this to you is showing his weakness to the world. You, with your history of athletic behavior, and your love of “perfect motion,” immediately contrast his activities with the time when he danced with the greatest of ease.

[...] Whenever psychic developments show themselves then, Ruburt improves in health, as he allows his energies their spontaneous play and expression. This flows into his writing, his physical condition, and your private lives.

The sportsman that you might have been would have gathered, from that same available background, other attitudes and ideas that would fit in with his concept of himself, and fit his core focus. [...]

[...] She sensed his deep and personal inner awareness. It confused and haunted him, since his inarticulateness applied also to thoughts within himself. [...] In his solitary nature he came close to being a mystic, but he was unable to relate his personality as Joseph Burdo with the social world at large, or even to other members of the family. [...] He felt strongly his connection with the universe as a whole and with nature as he understood it. But to him, nature did not include his fellow human beings. [...]

[...] He cannot turn himself or his abilities off … His activities would be strong in whatever level of activity he focused his energy, exaggerated in terms of others by comparison. [...] That is reflected through his poetry as well as our specific work. [...]

Her grandfather responded to his own attraction for her, and was able to expand in her direction because she was not an adult. [...] He could not relate to another adult, and when in his eyes Jane joined the league of adulthood he would not have been able to retain his strong leaning toward her.

He never forgave his own children for growing up … Yet he related his own body, at least until the very end, very well with nature. He considered that he aged as a tree will age, but perversely he felt that others aged to spite him … From an early age, however, Jane drank in his feeling of completeness with nature, and it had much to do with her later development …

[...] It got his attention. I am aware of his emotional ideas, of course, and to an important degree I am free of his prejudices, but more than that, in certain terms, my consciousness is not limited, so that I can take from Ruburt’s understanding his good comprehension of where science is, and then tell you where an enlightened science might go.

[...] All of his plans went wrong. His efforts seemed to be challenged at every turn. [...] He missed his plane—the plane crashed.

(We had two questions for Seth, since we’re trying to get into the habit of writing such down as they occur to us: 1. Jane wanted Seth to comment on why he’ll take off on something she’s read, and reinterpret it his own way, or carry it further; her question came up because he did this Monday while she’s reading Fred Hoyle’s book, Ten Faces of The Universe; 2. Jane wanted Seth to give information on her “significant” dream of last Saturday morning, July 1. She couldn’t remember any details from it, but has talked about it often; she thinks it had something to do with health.)

[...] His dream did inform him of that, but this also means that the mental conditions of limitation are being released enough so that other areas of your experience are now ready to come together in newer fashions.

Whatever program he works with for that time is important, for it is his manner of changing beliefs. [...] His positive successes are noted in his book. [...]

[...] Writing in his journal daily with his notations of present programs always represents a conscious intent that serves a beneficial natural hypnotic suggestion of accomplishment. [...]

[...] Ruburt would want to walk correctly now, of course, and then to have his arms straightened, or his posture gradually improved. [...]

[...] He actively enjoys his food. The texture of his body is becoming more youthful. [...]

He cannot see into his body. [...]

[...] Tell him to be patient with his own natural impatience —to have a relaxed attitude even about that.

Picasso, for example, had a supreme confidence in his ability. [...] I am not making value judgments, for each individual has his own purposes, and his unique abilities are so intimately connected with his own characteristics that it makes no sense to make that kind of comparison—but Picasso, for example, was an alien to profound thought. [...]

In a sense, painting is man’s natural attempt to create an original but coherent, mental yet physical interpretation of his own reality—and by extension to create a new version of reality for his species. It is as natural for man to paint as for the spider to spin his web. [...]

[...] (With amusement:) There is someone I know who tells Ruburt to trust his abilities. Very good advice—but that someone does not always trust his own abilities (louder). [...]

[...] There is always a kind of artistic dissatisfaction that any artist feels, any true artist, with work that is completed—for the true artist is always aware of the difference between the sensed ideal and its created actualization—but that is the dimension in which the artist has his being (intently). That is the atmosphere in which his mental and physical work is done, for he always feels the tug and pull, and the tension, between the sensed ideal and its manifestation. [...]

He does, indeed, and he wants to walk, by the way—but he does not want to waste his time. [...] His writing itself is impulsive, and encouraging impulses of any kind will automatically lead to his impulses to write, and the quick, clear nature of his inspiration. [...]

[...] (Long pause.) The backs of his legs are stretching. This will allow for much greater manipulation of his feet. [...]

[...] His legs stretched further during his nap. [...]

(This noon Jane and I signed our wills, with, naturally, Bill Danaher and his wife as witnesses. [...]

On his part, his experience with my voice was an important breakthrough. His body, again, is responding. [...] Keeping track of those is highly important, for it structures his intent. [...]

(12:29 AM.) Very quickly: Ruburt, again, is at a point where he can be on his way. [...]

John is considering leaving his job and buying a restaurant bar in his home town, Williamsport, PA. [...] Seth doubted John would make the move, because of his desire for security for his family, and because of his need for cosmopolitan outlets. These were met in his sales work, but would not be so easily satisfied if he were a proprietor of a settled establishment.

John also asked Seth if he knew what the trouble had been when John had had a pain in his throat on June 17,1964; on this date John witnessed the 63rd session. [...] Seth now explained that this mysterious voice had been his. He said John had cut his tongue on a bone sliver while eating, but because of the human nerve structure in that part of the anatomy the pain had been felt down in his neck.

[...] In the middle of a passage Seth suddenly came through, saying: “Why settle for a recording when you can have the real thing?” His voice was quite strong. [...]

[...] John is planning his job change for next January. [...]