“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Whatever information I can give you will be of great practical benefit. I do not want either of you traveling about unless you know what you are doing. Again I want to mention the matter of subconscious fabrications. Initially, particularly, you will meet with them. You must remember that you are wandering in completely different dimensions, and the rules with which you are familiar simply do not apply.

Remember that I told you you may visit not only the past, present or future as it exists or will exist in your terms, but you may also visit realities that never existed physically. In our early sessions, I mentioned that intensity regulated the ‘duration’ of experience. Now, many events that were only imagined never took place physically, yet they exist. They simply are not a part of your definition of reality. You may, therefore, visit a museum that was planned in the sixteenth century but never built. Such a museum has a reality as valid as the house in which you live.

That’s all that I remembered. I must have fallen back into a normal dream state, and when I awakened, it was morning. I wrote down what I had seen, dated the record as usual, told Rob and wondered about calling Beverly to check. She was only an acquaintance, however; we had never been close. So I let it rest.

Again, the next thing I knew it was morning. I wrote down what I remembered. The trouble was, I have two students named Tom. When I mentioned this in class, one had no idea of what kind of towels were in the bathroom. The other said my description seemed to apply to those in his bathroom linen closet. It wasn’t until several weeks later, however, that Rob and I visited Tom Height. “Come on, check out the bathroom,” he said, as everyone laughed. But the minute I entered, I saw it was the room I’d been in. The closet was right inside the door, and a jut in the wall blocked vision of the rest of the room. The cabinet and towels were identical.

On another occasion, I gave myself suggestions that during the night, I would project to Peg and Bill Gallagher’s house. When morning came, I remembered nothing except that I had tried to get there, drifted off in the general area, then lost proper control of my consciousness. A few days later Peg called me with a strange story. A newspaper man, a colleague of hers, told Peg that, though he didn’t know me at all, he awakened in the middle of the night convinced that I was in his room. My name kept coming to him over and over, and he sensed my presence. The man has no interest in psychic matters, and told Peg because he knew she was a friend of mine. His experience happened the same night that I tried to get to Gallaghers — and he lives in the same area.