“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

I had the feeling of something very heavy hanging over me. Was this to be translated into an object like, say, a heavy roof over my head, or to an emotional feeling that “hung over me”? I didn’t know—and at that point I couldn’t figure it out. The correct specific connection wasn’t made. Seth threw me another: “Something bright and small also, beneath this overhanging or threatening portion.” Here again, left to my own devices, I couldn’t work my way to the specific data we wanted.

After the session we opened the envelope. It contained a patient’s record sheet, a page from a pad that Nora had picked out of a wastebasket in another office. At the bottom corner were four numbers in a row, with other numbers on the top by the patient’s name, Margaret. Her hometown also began with an M; she was from out of town. A hospital stay is certainly unpleasant, often turbulent. Seth also gave other impressions concerning the woman’s background, but we couldn’t check these out.

Yet sometimes I’d get discouraged even over good results. One test had pleased me no end at first. It was our 37th, held in the 237th session on March 2, 1966. The target item was a print Rob had taken of his own hand a week earlier, when we were reading some books on palmistry. Seth’s impressions couldn’t have been more concise. I went around the house with a smile on my face just thinking of it for days afterward.

With no idea of how we were doing, I couldn’t have cared less, finally, what Dr. Instream was concentrating on. The tests just became time-consuming, cutting down on the amount of theoretical material we could receive. Once more I wrote the good doctor, suggesting that he not spare my feelings in case the data was just wrong. If so, we were wasting his time and our own. Again he wrote of his continuing interest and suggested we keep on. But he would not say we were doing well, fair, or poorly, and he gave no reports on the many specific details given.