“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Should we continue with the sessions? I was somewhat more reluctant than Rob, being so directly involved, but what an opportunity, I thought! We decided to hold at least a few more sessions to see what might develop. Rob had some questions about fragment personalities he wanted to ask: What did Seth mean when he said we could have turned into those images? Rob wrote the questions down so he wouldn’t forget them, and two nights later we sat down at the board once more. At this point, of course, we had no idea whether or not each session would be our last, regardless of our conscious decisions. For all we knew, Seth might vanish as Frank Withers had. Rob had his list of questions ready so we could get some answers while we still had the opportunity.

On the night in question we went to a nightclub in search of a festive atmosphere. Rob was in constant pain, and though he didn’t complain, he couldn’t hide the sudden spasms. Then I noticed an older couple sitting across the room from us. They really frightened me by their uncanny resemblance to Rob and myself. Did we look like that—aloof, bitter—only younger? I couldn’t take my eyes off them, and finally I pointed them out to Rob.

I was quite nervous before the next session. I’d had a particularly trying day at the gallery, and Rob was tired, too. Yet Rob woke up quickly enough, for I was to speak for Seth for over two hours. This session was quite startling for another reason also—the information itself was quite as surprising as the way I was saying it.

“I’m glad somebody thinks so,” I said to Rob, but now that things were safely back with the board, my curiosity was at me again. I told Rob to ask if one of us alone could work the pointer, and the pointer suggested that we try. Rob put his hands on the pointer and asked a question, but it barely moved.

Rob and I shrugged at each other: this was really wild, and the pointer was speeding faster and faster. Rob waited a moment, then asked, “What would you prefer to be called?”

[...] This time I was determined not to let the same thing happen again until I had time to think it over, and I told Rob. [...] “Was Jane’s answer right, Seth?” Rob asked.

I was glancing at one of several pages of notes that Rob had written. At the lunch table I had remarked that a particular correspondent of ours wanted “instant magic,” and my comment led to Rob writing some notes. As I started to read these notes at random this particular portion caught my attention … Rob wrote:

[...] Rob was preparing Seth’s The Individual and the Nature of Mass Events for publication. [...] The same heat that made me groan with dismay turned Rob into some version of a south-sea island native. [...]

[...] Then I thought of asking Rob to take a snapshot of the table area, so that I could paint it later. Not two minutes passed before Rob stood at my door with his camera! [...]

(Rob read their session of the previous evening when Seth gave more information on Sumari. [...]

([Rob:] “Thank you, Seth.”)

([Rob:] “Can I ask a question or is it too late?”)

(“What?” Rob said. [...] “One more time, Seth,” Rob said. [...]

[...] This afternoon I dropped in to talk about this incident with Jane & Rob; in the course of the conversation we decided that I should bring the tape of that class to their apartment this evening, stay on for the session, and record it and type it up.

[...] Besides that, my recording of the Sumari personality was poor and I had to stop at Fred and Pete’s [class members] to get their tape, and I didn’t arrive at Jane & Rob’s until 9 PM. [...]

[...] Seth told Rob that he’d seen only part of the room, described the rest of it and gave further details about Dick’s English life. The session lasted until 11:15 when Rob, not Seth, got tired, and suggested that we stop for the night. [...] Now I am no poet, and you know it. Rob laughed, because Seth likes to tease me about my poetry.

[...] Rob’s mind was on some innocuous chore, now forgotten; he may have been applying gesso ground to a series of panels to be used for paintings. [...]

[...] Rob “knew” that he was seeing the bedroom in which his brother, Dick, had died in a past life in England. [...] The vision was so clear that Rob instantly made a quick sketch of it. [...]

During this time Rob had a recurrence of back trouble, though far less severe than before. Seth devoted several long sessions to an analysis of Rob’s condition and explained the reasons for the symptoms. They disappeared without medication, and we think that the knowledge Rob gained through these sessions was responsible. Earlier we had purchased a Kennedy rocker because of Rob’s back. [...]

In early February, Rob wrote to Dr. Ian Stevenson, who was connected with the Department of Neurology and Psychology at the University of Virginia. [...] Rob also sent him copies of a few sessions, including some of the information we had been given about our own past lives. According to this, we lived several existences in the very distant past, including one in Denmark three centuries ago when Rob and I were father and son and Seth a mutual friend. [...]

“Oh, great,” I said to Rob. “Do I act any nuttier than usual?” Rob solemnly assured me that there had been no change in my behavior. [...]

[...] My eyes leapt to Rob’s — I could see he felt the same way. Then Peg told us that Wednesday evening, though earlier than (Rob’s and my) discussion, she’d asked someone to check the signature, and saw that they were indeed Rob’s.

If Rob and I discussed it on Tuesday, I could have picked up on Peg’s plan to go to Lib’s, wondered about Rob’s paintings — and have somehow gotten my question across to her. [...]

Rob had to go to the bank, so he excused himself and left just after the mailman arrived. [...] One letter in particular caught my eyes because it was from an old friend, Ed, the man who had introduced Rob and I to begin with; a man who we had lost touch with until two years ago when he’d suddenly written from Alaska.

Rob has a strong visual memory. [...] Rob is a professional artist, an excellent draftsman and technician. Yet in sessions, Seth has given Rob excellent advice and information on the techniques and philosophy of art. [...] Rob used to try to teach me perspective, but the lessons just wouldn’t take. [...] Yet Seth told Rob how to mix and use certain pigments, and Rob has added the information to his repertoire. [...]

Very shortly after the sessions began, Rob started to see visions or images. [...] Some were of people, and Rob began to use them as models for his paintings. [...] One, used in this book, is a portrait of Seth in the form in which he chose to appear to Rob. [...]

In one session, Seth gave some pointers that Rob immediately put to use. The picture is one of our favorites, and belongs to Rob’s “people series”—portraits of people we’ve never met. The inspiration for this particular painting came to Rob suddenly a few days after the session in question, and he used the techniques Seth had given in its execution.

[...] Because my motions were so strange, Rob had the impression that my limbs were heavy. [...] I was able to talk to Rob without difficulty, also. When Rob felt my hand, it was wet and floppy, and my body seemed to have no physical resistance at all.

Seth did mention Rob’s vision in the next (thirteenth) session on January 6, 1964. [...] Rob said, aloud: “Seth, can you tell me anything about the vision I had two nights ago?”

[...] Seth referred to me as Ruburt and to Rob as Joseph, saying that these were our entity names. [...] During the break, Rob had made a remark about solidified emotion, and Seth began by saying:

[...] Rob was still trying to comfort me when we arrived at Dr. Instream’s office. [...] I looked over at Rob. [...] Now I shut up and let Rob do the talking—or tried to let him.

Rob sat on one side of me and Dr. Instream on the other. [...] Rob was grinning, watching both of us.

[...] Nervously I kept trying to make eye-signs at Rob. [...] Finally I caught Rob’s eye. [...]

[...] After supper, I did the dishes and worked on my poetry for an hour, and then Rob got out the board. [...] Rob took verbatim notes from the beginning. Most of the first ten sessions dealt with reincarnation and included some fascinating material on Rob’s family.

[...] Rob and I sat at my wooden table with only a small electric candle lit. After quite some time, I began to see pictures, and as Rob took notes, I spoke aloud in my own voice, describing what I was seeing and experiencing. [...]

Because of the Miss Cunningham dream and the “Idea Construction” experience, Rob suggested that I try some experiments in ESP and expansion of consciousness and do a book on the results — negative or positive. [...]

Rob asked for a break, but then he urged me to end the session before my voice gave out. [...] While we were talking, Rob had wondered aloud about the meaning of time; when we resumed, Seth started discussing this question.

As Seth I paused, smiling, looking Rob directly in the eye. Rob was newly surprised at the deep voice that had started up again, and it took him a minute to think of something to ask. [...]

Rob asked several other questions, and the two of them, Rob and Seth, chatted back and forth for three quarters of an hour. [...]

[...] Rob sat on the couch as usual, taking notes. According to Rob, Seth’s voice was unusually powerful that night. My opened eyes were very dark, and Seth seemed to be watching Rob rather closely.

Then, to Rob’s surprise, Seth told him to end the session. Rob was to follow the procedure given, recently, to end my trance. (Just lately I had begun going into particularly deep trances compared to earlier ones, and Seth had suggested that Rob call my name three times.) Seth said, “This evening you have reached somewhat beyond the personality by which I usually make myself known to you. [...]

[...] Rob thought that my heavy rocker was about to tip over. Rob and Phil leaped to their feet, Phil knocking his glass of beer to the floor in the process. Rob rubbed my hands and tried to get me out of trance.

[...] Rob said. We’d purchased the rocker earlier when Rob’s back was bothering him badly. Rob told me later that he was squirming some, as I paced back and forth, delivering this material as Seth.

On January 17th, Rob and I tried another experiment together. [...] Before long, I began to speak for a personality called Malba Bronson, who told Rob that she had died in South Dakota in 1946 at the age of forty-six. [...]

[...] She told Rob that our work with Seth was a lifetime project, that we would publish his manuscripts, and help spread his ideas. She also informed Rob that I could contact the deceased for their living relatives if I wanted to, emphasizing that a good deal of trial and error would be involved as both of us learned to use our psychic abilities.

In our system, for example, Rob is an artist. [...] Each of Rob’s sketches and paintings won prizes for the doctors for whom he did them. In this session, the 487th, Seth told Rob that in another system of reality, Rob has a probable self who is a doctor who paints as a hobby. This is why Rob took to the medical drawings so easily! (To the doctor, of course, Rob is a probable self.)

“I’m ready,” Rob said; and he was. [...] In the meantime we had another session, and Rob had quite a few questions ready to ask Seth. [...] He is an older man in his system of reality than Rob is in ours, and while he is engrossed in his painting, this interest is subordinated to his medical work.

[...] Seth told Rob again that contact could be facilitated by the Psychological Time exercises. (These will be explained in the chapter dealing with the development of psychic abilities.) Rob did these exercises several times that week without making any contact with Dr. Pietra as far as he knew. [...]

Part of Rob’s confidence came from observation. [...] Rob liked Seth immediately. [...] Through me, Seth related to Rob. Almost from the beginning he was an objectified personality to Rob; a visitor regardless of the unconventional situation; someone in whose ideas Rob was tremendously interested. [...] It was a terrific change for me to suddenly have to rely on someone else — even Rob — to tell me what “I” had been saying for a period of two or three hours.

Rob was intrigued not only by the material but by Seth himself as he began to manifest his own personality more clearly. [...] But on this particular night, Rob watched, amused, while Seth told him in no uncertain terms what he thought of my experiment — using my own lips to do it! (I’m also including Rob’s notes, as they apply.)

[...] And, of course, Rob and I both began to experiment with the inner senses. [...] Again, Rob’s notes are inserted whenever they help explain the text.

[...] I was in trance, of course, but, knowing him, I can well imagine how he must have stared at me as I strode back and forth speaking in that deep Seth voice and talking to Rob in such a manner. When Rob explained briefly about Seth before the session, he’d asked Mark questions he’d like answered. [...]

The session went on as Seth gave Rob some excellent psychological insights into his own behavior, and tied this is with early experience in this life, and with relationships with his present family in past life existences. The strong voice continued, and once during a break, Rob asked me how I felt. [...]

[...] I’m also including some of Rob’s preliminary notes.

[...] Rob sticks his head in doorway, says money is “there”; he’s busy, difficult for me to turn to see where “There” is; he has to say “on cabinet.” Kid tries door; it’s locked; I don’t think I can unlock it and get out of his way quickly enough without asking him to wait for me to move, feel humiliated again, know Rob is busy with the book and why can’t I handle it? By now, Rob lets the boy in. [...]

Stopped writing these notes; getting some more good ideas for my preface— but the good feelings in my leg and foot continue; I want to call out to Rob and tell him, but feel constraint; he’s working on Unknown; I’ll disturb him ... [...] Do I feel that any exuberance on my part will annoy or threaten Rob? [...]

And—I love you, Rob. [...]

[...] A neighbor, Barbara Ingold, came up Friday about 7: with a shaker of stingers, one for Rob, Barb and myself. Rob was working. Barb and I drank our stingers and divided Rob’s. She talked about her past; suicide attempts, miscarriages, operations; very emotionally charged. [...]

[...] I said this softly to Rob and once to Peg; who knows about the sessions, of course. [...] Rob shook his head and I didn’t particularly want to get involved anyway so I said no mentally. [...]

[...] I yelled out for Rob. [...] Finally Bill and Peg took Rob and me for a ride in the cold night air, to snap me out of it.