“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(However, I did feel better by session’s end. I went for a walk near midnight, slept well, and have had a better day today. The feelings linger, though in a much subdued form. I talked with our tax man, Jack Joyce, on the telephone today; we may get our forms Thursday. I want to pay the taxes by Friday to get free of them, and to see if this act helps set me free. I think that because of the Easter weekend coming up, an extension of the tax-paying deadline until next Tuesday the 17th is permissible, but I don’t want to wait that long.

In your case, I meant to mention (in the last session) that the time of taxes has some involvement with your difficulties, for reason tells you they must be paid, while your emotions are resentful. You are not sure whether your creative work will “pay off”—that is, whether you will be adding to the financial kitty. Hence your dilemma as to what projects you should do or not do.

4. I do resent paying the taxes.
[All of these contribute to the physical effects.]

[...] Fred stayed overnight, was let go, went to the local Holiday Inn, and was arrested for failure to pay for services. [...]

[...] He did tell them he had an apartment in Denver, CO, but obviously no local agency was going to pay to transport him back home; we’d wondered about that, too. [...]

[...] That has still to pay off in your terms.

[...] His imaginings, even of simple things—the bird baths, the feeders, the picnic table that implies outside experience—all of this will pay off.

[...] It will pay far greater dividends than you imagine.

[...] If your mother thinks Ruburt is more successful than you, then obviously she can see that Ruburt is paying for it. [...]

[...] This also has to do in our own private sessions, with Ruburt’s slowness and difficulty getting out of the chair—to show you that he is paying for the success of the sessions.

(“Yeah, but I don’t expect him to pay for anything.”)

[...] This means we can’t pay them until Monday, the 16th, the day after Easter.

[...] My physical hassles have waxed and waned—I’m hoping that paying the taxes tomorrow helps. [...]

[...] In other words, I’m very concerned about my financial contribution, and paying all those taxes exacerbates it all.

[...] Nor had paying the taxes this morning, although it could take the body a while to respond to any change in status or thinking, and I’d seen this happen before.

Your father wanted it but would not pay the price for it. [...] It was because your father was not willing to pay the price that he was attracted to your mother, although other elements also entered in here.

For part of him was determined to gain worldly success, and he was always caught between wanting freedom, but he would not pay the price, or wanting worldly success for which he was not willing to pay the price. [...]

[...] Then when she discovered that he was not willing or able to go either way, or pay either price, she was enraged and embittered, and did not think of him as a man. [...]

[...] She responded to warmth in people, and was somewhat childlike in this manner, but she would not pay any attention to a sharp tongue. [...]

For every act he considers uncharitable or sarcastic he must pay. The Harriet poem: for that you see he believes he must pay. [...] For she flaunted the neighborhood and the Irish background physically in her youth, and paid, and Ruburt fought it intellectually, and feels he must pay.

[...] If he succeeds he must pay, for if he does not pay, if he does not willingly submit to his own punishment, then there is eternal damnation.

[...] That is, though I am no banker, you should not at this time pay more than six thousand, even though a higher figure might make more land possible. [...]

[...] The intimacy with nature that you would enjoy there would pay off in ways that you do not know.

[...] The energies released in the purchase of the house at which you looked will, themselves, indirectly allow you to pay off the amount within the five-to-eight year period.

[...] A house psychically unsound would greatly cut down your ability to pay for it.

[...] So if you had a job he felt you were sacrificing, but if you did not then he expected you to paint your best, and make the world take it, and pay for it.

[...] But in the old contract you had psychically made in this life, either of you would have done anything he felt, to paint and write and make the world accept what you did and pay for it.

[...] He does not need to go to a doctor, but he does need to pay attention to the physician within, and to heed the body’s ancient wisdom.

[...] What Ruburt has in mind—and generally—this includes the ideas that you have given, Joseph, in the taped material—those procedures are indeed paying off. [...]

His attitude in its own way is the same as you mentioned earlier this evening, in that he believes he is lucky not to have to work out, and so must make what he is doing pay. [...]

He felt therefore that he had to make his way of life pay. [...]

It had to pay off. [...]

(At 11:00 this morning our lawyer called to tell me that Blue Cross has agreed to pay our insurance claim. [...] I did ask if he knew whether the company is paying 80% or 100%, and he didn’t know. [...]

[...] If a bill arrives do not think “How will we ever pay this?” or “This will make us short,” for you are painting your picture of poverty, you see. Instead say to yourself “Money to pay this bill is coming to me.” [...]

Now Ruburt did follow through here with your car, and he simply saw you paying the last of the money, without any idea of where the money was coming from, but believing it would be there while not draining your own account.

He can begin by walking up that flight, seeing how many times he can do it without too much trouble, but paying no attention to the way he goes down, which has been much more difficult for him. [...]

[...] Pretend you are paying me several hundred dollars a week, tell him. [...]

[...] Because it’s a holiday, I guess, the bank was closed, so I couldn’t pay the IRS.

(“What will the book pay?”)

(“What will Ace pay for the cover?”)

[...] “What’s the matter,” I asked her after supper tonight, “do you feel guilty because you think you deserted your mother?” I explained that I felt self-punishment, a feeling of unworthiness, self-doubt and mistrust must lie at the root of her symptoms—that she felt she must pay a price for each success, like the publishing of a book. [...] What could possibly be so bad in life that we had to pay such a price?

(Perhaps it was no coincidence that before supper tonight Jack Joyce visited to discuss how much we should pay quarterly on our estimated NY State tax for 1981 — another success story that must be paid for? [...]

[...] Jane took the teaching job for the high pay given; this is the main reason she accepted it. It is the highest paying job she has ever had, $25.00 a day.

[...] The envelope object is the employee pay record from her check for this first day’s work.

[...] The object is an accounting of Jane’s earnings, and a schedule of when she earned the money, etc., since it is an employee’s pay record from the Elmira school system.

[...] This could apply to the object, since this employee pay record has boxes or spaces on it for the entry of moneys toward retirement, savings bonds, credit union, etc., for steadily-employed teachers. [...]

And do not pay any attention to Ruburt when he chews you all out. [...]

[...] One daughter is paying the rent. [...]

[...] Perhaps time will tell how much rent she ultimately must pay ...)