“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Still without looking at the paper I’d chosen as object, I sealed it in the envelopes. Then, with my eyes closed, I picked up the section from which the object had been taken, groped over to a floor-to-ceiling bookcase, and placed it on a high shelf where I would not see it.

This procedure left me knowing only one thing about the object: that it was from some section of The New York Times, date unknown. After the experiment was over, Jane opened the envelopes containing the test object; then I went back to the studio, and from the hidden section I picked out the page from which the object had been torn. It turned out to be pages 11—12 of Section One of the Times for Sunday, November 6, 1966.

Seth gave thirty-nine impressions. Almost all of them had direct application. Here are several, pertaining to the test object, grouped together for convenience:

“A paper item, rougher rather than smooth background.” (The object was a piece of newspaper, coarse newsprint rather than, say, a coated magazine paper stock.)

“Liberal giving.” (The words “liberal discounts” appear on the object.)

“Something identical to something else … two or two of a kind.” (The word “twin” appears on the object, referring to the size of a blanket on sale. I had the strong subjective impression, however, that this was a reference to the fact that the envelope object was a part of a similar object.)

The above impressions referred to the test object itself. Now here are some about the page from which the object was taken. Seth said, in consecutive order: “A method of disposal … Something in the vernacular … Gubatorial.” (I was after the word “gubernatorial” here, but as usual Rob recorded it the way I pronounced it in trance.)

Refer to the illustrated section for reproductions of the test item and the page from which it was torn. Both sides of the test item contained portions of advertisements that were tied in with election day, yet the words “Election Day” didn’t appear on the object itself at all—only on the whole newspaper page that had lain on a high shelf of Rob’s studio bookcase.

Now I think that this is an excellent example of the way extrasensory perceptions are sometimes received. Sales are a method of disposal, yet verbally the final connection isn’t as concise as we would like. There’s more than just the idea of conciseness involved, though: such answers are also just different—unexpectedly so, and they make us consider old objects or ideas in new and equally valid ways. I’ll have more to say about this sort of thing later in this chapter.

This test brought several questions to mind at once, though. How had Seth picked up the information about the entire page, when only a small section of it was in the test envelope? Had some kind of projection on my part been involved, back to the studio bookcase? Seth hadn’t first given impressions of the envelope object itself, then neatly moved on to deal with the entire page; he had shifted back and forth between the two, as if viewing both at once. And why had he not confined his data just to the envelope object?

“Writing or printing on the lower left hand corner, very small, holding the object horizontally. Something on the back also.” (Both of these applied, except that the very small print was on the left side, not only the left corner.)

“A connection with a photograph or other like object.” (This, we believe, refers quite validly to the portrait.)

Up to this point the impressions had come through with no concern on my part. I was in a deep trance. Then Seth said: “The feeling of something hanging over, threatening or overhanging, on the upper half of the object, and dark.” As I spoke these words for Seth, a rift seemed to open up—a doubt as to the information’s interpretation. I knew that Seth wanted me to narrow this down myself, and that this was part of my training.

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.

Yet Seth was trying to lead me to the word “roofing.” It was in the heading of the bill, on the upper half. See how correct and yet ambiguous that unfinished impression was—“the feeling of something hanging over, threatening or overhanging, on the upper half of the object, and dark.”

Here Seth’s impressions had been quite literal, as if the words on the bill were coming to life and being described as objects instead of as words describing objects. Later I was to do much better when Seth left some impressions up to me, but this kind of training was invaluable. Even though I didn’t do a very good job, we learned something about the nature of perception, which was Seth’s intent. This test made us suspect that all impressions, extrasensory or otherwise, are initially nonverbal and nonvisual, more like pure feeling that is only later interpreted in sense terms.

We tried all sorts of things with the envelopes. In The New York Times test, Rob himself didn’t know what was on the test object. He didn’t always know what the test object was, in any case, and sometimes he didn’t even know that a test would be held! For example, occasionally friends would come unannounced to a session and bring their own test envelope. This was just handed to me in the middle of the session, without my knowing beforehand whether or not a test would be held. Sometimes Rob would use such an envelope at once; at other times he would save it for a future session.

For one year, twice a week, Seth gave his impressions as to Dr. Instream’s activities. These included specific references as to names, initials, dates, and places. Some of this data could be easily checked out. Dr. Instream wanted Seth to concentrate on naming a particular object, though, upon which he would be concentrating in the distant town in which he lived. It became obvious that emotional elements were more important; that activities of an emotional nature “came through” more clearly than impressions of a more neutral object. Seth did give material pertaining to objects also, but he was more apt to give specific information on Dr. Instream’s daily life.

“Now, oils suggest the earth. Let that medium stand for the physical appearance of permanency in any object, the physical continuity of any given human form in a painting. Let the transparent oil colors represent the constant renewal of energy that always escapes the form.