“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

They were married twenty-eight years and had a son and daughter. The son is still alive, in California, around the Los Angeles area. Malba didn’t know where the daughter was, but she did know that her son now had two boys of his own. She told us that she worked in the factory for only a few months. Although obviously not intelligent, she showed an awareness of her comparative ignorance, and she regarded education as important.

She couldn’t explain much about her own situation, however, though she insisted that she was happier where she was than she had been in this life. Sometimes she was with others; sometimes alone. She didn’t know how she ‘got about,’ but knew that she could travel to other places on earth. ‘I don’t know how I do it,’ she said. ‘I’ll just find myself somewhere.’ Nor could she describe how she got through to us. ‘I’m here, though, aren’t I?’ she said.

Actually she was fairly inarticulate. She did say that she had no particular sense of light and dark, or sense of time. She remarked quite spiritedly that I asked a lot of questions, but added that she liked us because we didn’t make fun of her.

“Everything that she said was of a piece,” Rob told me later. “She sounded well-meaning, but not too bright. The impression that she was herself was definite … she didn’t seem anything like you. Her laugh was completely different … as was her way of using words. Her vocabulary was very limited, for example, and her voice had a petulant tone. The description of her death really struck me. It was so stark and undramatic that it really rang a bell. Not only that, but she still seemed bewildered by it herself.”

And gain before the next session, I had that odd stage fright, a feeling of apprehension and wonder. My afternoon at the gallery had been very busy. It seemed I had to rush through dinner and the dishes and my normal chores in order to get through by session time. I didn’t have an idea in my own head about anything. In a half hour or so how would I suddenly find myself delivering such off-beat material in a voice that didn’t seem to be my own?