“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

In early February, Rob wrote to Dr. Ian Stevenson, who was connected with the Department of Neurology and Psychology at the University of Virginia. Dr. Stevenson was interested in reincarnation, and we had just read about his work. Rob also sent him copies of a few sessions, including some of the information we had been given about our own past lives. According to this, we lived several existences in the very distant past, including one in Denmark three centuries ago when Rob and I were father and son and Seth a mutual friend. Our last lives were in Boston in the nineteenth century.

In a way, Dr. Stevenson’s letter came at an unfortunate time. It had been impossible to keep the sessions absolutely secret. Eventually some of our friends were bound to come around on a Monday or Wednesday evening, and hear the odd voice from outside the door as Phillip did just before we wrote Dr. Stevenson. As a result, Phil began to attend occasional sessions. I’m using the entity name that Seth gave him, since his family doesn’t understand his interest in psychic phenomena—a situation we’ve encountered more than once. Phil lives out of state but travels to Elmira every six weeks or so on business.

Just a few days before we received Dr. Stevenson’s letter, we had an unscheduled session with Phil present. We gave him paper and pen to write down any questions he might have, but Phil never got a chance to write anything down. According to him, Seth answered each of his questions in turn as Phil formed them in his mind. Phil wrote and signed a statement to this effect.

“There is no danger of dissociation grabbing hold of him like some black vague and furry monster, carrying him away to the nether-lands of hysteria, schizophrenia, or insanity. I have consistently advised contacts with the world at large, and told you both to use your abilities to meet outside challenges. Withdrawal into dissociation as a hiding place from the world could be dangerous, and many have fallen prey here. With Ruburt this is not the case.

I used to envy Rob his viewpoint of the sessions. He could see and hear me as Seth and I couldn’t. Now during break I questioned him again. I hated to have to depend on someone else to tell me what was going on, but I had learned one thing: I couldn’t be Jane and Seth at once. For Seth to come through I had to stop such mental quibbling—at least temporarily.

“Infinities of diversity and opportunity are given to the personalities by the entity. … Your own dreams are fragments, even as in a larger sense you are fragments of your entity.” Seth also said that an inner part of each personality was aware of its relationship with its entity—and that this portion did man’s breathing for him and controlled those bodily processes that we consider involuntary.

The session lasted until 11:30 P.M. Rob was reassured by Seth’s statements about my ability to handle dissociation, and by his responsible attitude. I was, too, but I kept thinking of the remark in Dr. Stevenson’s letter. “Of course, Seth said that everything was okay,” I said. “What else could we expect him to say?”

“Besides,” Rob said, “Seth didn’t order you to do anything. I asked him a question, and he answered it.”

In other words, I used to watch Seth like a hawk, particularly during the first year or so, but he always behaved intelligently, with dignity and humor. As soon as I began judging him by his actions and his effect on us, I dropped this habit. He won my trust. He has given us excellent, psychologically sound advice, but he never tried to give us orders.

During the first six months or so of the sessions, our cat, Willie, began behaving in a most unsociable manner. A few times he began to hiss and spit quite madly just before sessions. One night he really startled us. We were getting ready to begin, and Willie was sleeping in the bedroom closet. Suddenly he ran out of the closet, fur on end, bolted through the living room, and hid behind the curtains. Once he nipped at my ankles as I was speaking for Seth, and in trance I dragged him half across the room while he hung on to the bottom of my slacks. Rob had to shut him in the studio.