“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

And welcome as always to our friend, our cocky friend. I am delighted at his visit.

Do not tell her of our sessions as yet. (Pause.) I am not clear here—there is something to do with bread. Give me a moment. (Pause.) Raisin bread should be added to the diet, and rye. Honey and nuts. No pecans. (Long pause.)

The young woman of whom our friend (John Bradley) speaks. Impressions: an A. (Pause.) Lived in a town by a river. Connection with two males, one older, perhaps 34, a brother or close friend.

You have my blessing if Ruburt wants to demonstrate the table for our friend.

There is a Wednesday appointment for our friend here shortly, that either can hold pitfalls or will turn out to be surprising.

(A few notes re the table-tipping experiment which followed the session, and lasted until after midnight, to our surprise.

(I have seen tables move a few times before, including the much heavier green table referred to in the session, but still find the movement of furniture weird when it begins, since none of us were making any obvious, overt attempts to move said table. It is quite easy to touch one’s fingertips to the tabletop, and thus verify that no strong physical pressure is being exerted thereon, even subconsciously; especially when the touch is light enough so that the fingertips slide about, as ours did. We constantly checked each other, also watching our feet. This is easy to do with a small table.

(Thereupon commenced a wild episode. The table began to hop and dance about the room. In order to keep up with it we had to leave our seats and walk about the rug with it. Each time it reached the edge of the rug we pulled it back to keep it off the bare floor, where it would have been very noisy.

(This was not all. At times the table tipped up on two legs, then would poise there, seemingly balanced by itself. To our surprise we discovered that it required an active pressure from us to force the table back down to the floor so that all three legs made contact. The feeling of this force was unmistakable, and new to all of us. There was no doubt about its existence, since the pressure required to level the table off was obvious to all. This of course did the job that gravity would normally be expected to do. Each time we pushed the table down, it rose up again at one edge. The feeling given by this maverick or opposite pressure was quite similar to the feeling one gets from playing with magnets, when they are so aligned that one repels the other. Whatever force is operating in such cases of repulsion is invisible, but unmistakably there.

(This feeling of repulsion is the reason for these notes, actually. If the beginning of movement in a piece of furniture is weird to start with, a refusal by the table to sit on the floor as one expects is much more so. This period lasted for perhaps ten minutes or more, while the three of us took turns shifting position so we could all test the pressure required to push the table down to the floor. There is no question that any of us were causing this effect; all of our movements were plain to see. During all of this the table was active to a greater or lesser degree, making it impossible to prop up a leg, say, with a shoe, etc. As interested as we were, we did not lose objectivity.

(The session climaxed with a very active dance by the table, as the three of us left our chairs and followed it about the rug. It described circles, balanced on one leg at a time, then two, in a regular rhythm. At times it scooted in a straight line. The hilarity of all this is hard to convey, but the objective realization of what was taking place, and of how hard it would be to explain to a neophyte, finally got to John Bradley. This was his first experience with a table. He ended up laughing until the tears rolled down his cheeks, as the three of us went round and round the room with the table.