“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

He was angry at your mother for whatever ideas she gave you that prevented the full use of your abilities. One of the things Ruburt resents most about your mother is her lack of understanding of the nature of your artistic abilities. Ruburt considered your mother an enemy in that regard.

[...] The three of us finally did meet — a few days after Sue’s mother had died on October 19. Two nights earlier, Sue had had a very strong precognitive dream concerning her mother’s death; she plans to discuss that event in the book she’s writing. Laurel made a card for Sue when we heard about the demise of her mother, and left room inside it for me to write a note. [...]

There’s little I can say that will offer comfort to you about your mother’s death. [...] So, I think, it will be with you and your mother and father. [...]

In more specific terms, I’m organizing this rather short exploration of Jane’s death around these items; a loose chronology surrounding her writing of Seth, Dreams … in 1966-67, and our unsuccessful attempts to sell the book; my acceptance of the survival of the personality after physical death; a waking experience involving my sensing Jane very soon after she had died; a metaphor I created for her death; a dream in which I not only contacted her but gave myself relevant information; another metaphor for Jane’s death; my speculations about communication among entities, whether they’re physical or nonphysical; a letter that could be from the discarnate Jane — one that was sent to me by its recipient, a caring correspondent whom I’ll call Valerie Wood; a note I wrote to Sue Watkins about the death of her mother; some quotations from a published letter of mine; Jane’s notes concerning the relationship we had; and, finally, the poem in which she refers to her nonphysical journeys to come.

[...] I interpret our employment there, and her joyful mood, to mean that from where she is now she no longer fears hospitals and the medical establishment — that she’s moved beyond that deep apprehension she began to build up around the age of three, as her mother became gradually, and permanently, incapacitated with rheumatoid arthritis. [...]

[...] At the same time however this help is held up to the father, for it is the mother who asks for the assistance, and the assistance is always in some way held up against the father. This is also a type of revenge, however, for the mother is now in a stronger position, after having been kept in an inferior one for nearly a lifetime.

Your mother, realizing too well that her little boys are grown, now you see seeks to maintain her motherhood by asking help from them, since they no longer need it from her. [...]

(“The color purple,” Jane said this is speculation: She wears a certain purple sweater her mother made for her on days when the studio is chilly in the mornings. [...]

[...] This is a result of the connection between emotionalism and your mother. [...]

[...] (Long pause.) I believe the small bed pillow used by Ruburt has a connection with your mother, and should not be used.

[...] His present mother was a very jealous older sister. [...]

[...] The sister, who is your present mother, married one of the cousins and moved to France. [...]

[...] This aside from your own reaction to your mother’s emotionalism. [...]

[...] You identified them to some extent with your mother, the first female of course in your background. [...]

[...] Even as you could not imagine depending upon your mother for a livelihood.

[...] Now as I write some old dumb stuff comes emotionally to mind—my mother saying that I’d destroy those I loved or some such nonsense.... [...]

[...] You thought of your father in many ways as feminine—passive, and of your mother—in many ways, now—as aggressive and male, though she was emotional. [...]

[...] It represents what is left over of Ruburt’s questioning and doubts, those unresolved areas that were emotionally charged not only because of, say, Church doctrine, but intensified because of emotional episodes with his mother, or other such issues. [...]

[...] They often represent humiliations, most often at his mother’s hands—humiliations that convinced him that he was indeed unlovable and bound for trouble. [...]

(To me:) Your mother did not simply choose to believe, in her old age, in a different past than the one that was accepted by the family—she effectively changed probabilities. [...]

2. Here Seth referred to the striking way in which my mother, Stella Butts, had recreated for the better her “memories” of her husband (my father). [...]

[...] Ruburt’s experience is specifically more obvious, yet your mother and father each reacted in their own ways to the authority of the world as they understood it. Your mother tried desperately to fit into that framework, and your father as desperately combated it.

Ruburt is correct: you would not have been happy in your mother’s old home, with beliefs and situations as they are; but on your part as well as Ruburt’s. The people who moved there did so for a reason, and they will bring “new blood” to the neighborhood.

[...] She seemed to be a little more comfortable, now that her birthday and Mother’s Day are past — factors, Seth said, that contributed to her discomfort.)

[...] Here he was a woman of some artistic ability, the mother of two sons, one who had been connected with him in the past.

The daughter, the original daughter, you see, is now Peg’s mother. [...]

[...] I said Jane’s mother had been abandoned by her father, that her grandparents had also been separated through bitter argument, and that Jane herself had often been threatened with such a fate by her mother. [...]

(Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptist, was a cousin of Christ’s mother, Mary. [...]

In a very small measure you can see how this works when you think of your mother in, say, her last years, and compare your idea of her with those of [your brothers] Linden and Richard. [...] Each of you had a different mother.

[...] Nor was any harsh reality forced upon the mother by the dying child, for that portion of your mother was the part that regretted having had the child.

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 was afraid you would become like your father in his treatment of your mother.

His father’s death reminded him that he was suddenly quite alone except then for his mother, and also brought up the question of age.

[...] Jane recalled being called a fraud by a fellow student in college, and by my mother. [...]

[...] Ruburt was not taught to love himself as a child, and thought of his talents as a way of justifying his existence — an existence of somewhat suspicious nature, he felt, since his mother told him often that he was responsible for her own poor health.

When you view the animal kingdom, you also do so through your specialized sexual beliefs, studying the behavior of the male and female, looking for patterns of aggressiveness, territorial jealousy, passivity, mothering instincts, or whatever. [...] To some degree, the so-called mothering instinct belongs to male and female alike in any species that can be so designated. [...]

[...] In the first place your father’s creativity, his inventions, brought him no recognition, no money in your mother’s terms. The creativity in your mother simply erupted in emotional tantrums, also dangerous and unproductive. [...]

In this life Ruburt feared a laxness within himself because of his mother’s remarks about his father. [...]