“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(I asked Jane to lay her wedding ring on the table. The three of us joined hands around the ring. Sitting quietly in the dim light, staring at the ring, I soon realized that with a nudge or two from the imagination the unwary observer might not have too much trouble seeing what he wanted to.

(A tiny point of light grew on the edge of the ring. But by moving my arm, I discovered I could make this light wink on and off; it was simply red reflection from the candle. So I placed the light behind the curtains, where it was much diffused.

(With considerable relish Seth described in detail each phenomena that followed—so that, as he said, there would be no doubt as to what took place. He began by telling us to watch Jane’s thumb. The tip of it began to glow. It seemed to be an internal suffusing of the flesh with a cold white light; there was no radiant effect, merely the changing color of the flesh itself.

(“And now the wrist—see how it thickens and turns white?” Jane’s wrist did thicken. She sat with the wrist of her left hand pressed to the table top. She wore a black sweater with the sleeves pushed halfway up her forearms. The cold white light spread up over the thickening wrist, up the forearm to the sweater. Seth was smug and sardonic at the same time. “You didn’t think I could do it, did you my lovelies? But you have no idea of what you’re asking, of how difficult it is…”

(Seth then had the cold inner light suffuse Jane’s wrist and palm to an even more remarkable degree. At the joining of hand and wrist, the flesh rose up in an egglike lump; the light crept up Jane’s arm to her sweater, and bled down her fingers until all semblance of shadow was gone. Then, to end this part of the demonstration, Seth had Jane place her hands side by side so that we could plainly see the difference between the two. It was easily seen.

(We had turned no lights on during break. Now Seth rather imperiously commanded us to move our little table over a few feet so that it faced the doorway to our bathroom. Looking back, Jane, Bill, and I recall with some humor that we docilely followed Seth’s every order. The three of us sat shoulder to shoulder, staring into the bath, which is large and tiled with white. We were hoping to see a materialization of some kind in the open doorway, since we had discussed this at break.

(“This isn’t a lunch meeting,” Seth snapped at me through Jane, for I was still finishing a piece of candy. “Nor is it a circus session. Your bathroom is much too light for what you desire. White is a very poor color for what you are asking.” When I asked if he required total darkness to be at his best, he replied, “We make light from darkness.”