“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

One night I had a frightening dream that seemed very real. I found myself in our bedroom, out of my body, and suddenly I realized that someone or something was directly above me. The next minute I was pushed down to the foot of the bed, off into the air, and then down to the dark corner of the bedroom floor. Above me was what I can only describe as a big black thing like a bloated, blurred human form, but larger and very solid.

It sounds ridiculous, but I knew that this thing was “out to get me.” I knew that I was out of my body, and I was overwhelmed with astonishment, as well as very frightened. Although I’d read of people being attacked by demons or the like while they were “projecting,” I just didn’t believe in demons. So what was it? I didn’t have time to wonder, because it bit me several times on the hand. It was amazingly oppressive, and kept up its efforts to drag me farther away from my body into the bedroom closet.

In dismay, I heard Rob snoring. In any case, I wasn’t in my physical body, and he probably wouldn’t know anything was wrong anyhow. And where was Seth? Where were all those “guides” who were supposed to come running to your aid when you got in predicaments like this? All these thoughts went scurrying through my mind as I tried to fight this thing off. I was very conscious of the creature’s weight, which was really amazing, and its intent—which was to maul me up as much as possible, if not to kill me outright.

“Don’t panic,” I told myself, trying desperately to retain some semblance of calm. But the thing pressed down and was about to bite me again. This time I thought, “To hell with not panicking,” and I started to yell my head off. I knew it wasn’t my physical head, but I hoped that my shout would either frighten the creature away or attract some kind of help.

The thing pulled back for an instant, much like a huge startled animal, and I slipped from beneath it and shot fast as a rocket for my body, with it after me. In other words, I beat a fast cowardly retreat. I hit my body so quickly that my physical head was spinning, but no matter. My body never felt so welcome.

Now that I was safe I was more than a little ashamed of myself for being such a coward, but I wasn’t so complacent that I felt like going right back to sleep, either! So I got up, drank a glass of milk, and thought of all the things I should have done—like saying grandly: “Get thou behind me, Satan,” or some such. The least I could have done, I thought, was bite back.

Now Seth said: “Our friend [meaning me] attempted to choose a different battlefield last night. He decided to think of all negative feelings as enemies, and to give them form in another plane of reality where he could do battle with them. This was not an astral plane, but a lower one.

In a sort of backhanded compliment, Seth asked Rob to tell me that my abilities were improving—it was a well-made thought-form. Now, I don’t propose for a moment that any of my readers attempt such a foolhardy venture. But I do suggest that perhaps some of them have already done so without knowing it, waking only with the memory of a particularly bad nightmare.

I’ve used this method often, with excellent results. Sometimes I’ve remembered the dreams, sometimes not, but I’ve always awakened refreshed and renewed, and the effects last. The dreams I’ve recalled during such instances have been inspirational: strong enough not only to conquer a period of the blues but to restore me to exceptionally good spirits.

Each dream object is actually double- or triple-decked, a symbol for other, deeper data. A dream involving reincarnational information, for example, may also serve to help us face a present-day problem by reminding us of other unused abilities inherent in our personalities. I’ve had two particularly vivid reincarnational dreams. One, occurring shortly after our sessions began, really frightened me because I was afraid that it might be precognitive, I dreamed that I was an old woman in a very poor hospital ward of some kind. I was dying of cancer and knew it, but wasn’t a bit frightened. An old man beside me was also about to die. I told him not to worry, that I would be there to help him. Then I died, but there seemed to be no break in consciousness. I helped the old man out of his body and kept telling him that everything was all right.

We asked about the dream in the next Seth session. Seth told me that it referred to my death as a medium in Boston in the last century. He had given us some information about this life in previous sessions, and now he told me that I wouldn’t again die of cancer (a mistake in tactics on his part, since he had long ago told me to give up cigarettes, and I haven’t complied. He has never tried to bully me into giving up the habit, merely saying that it didn’t help my overall health or development).

The other dream was even more vivid, and really enjoyable. I don’t know when I’ve had such a great time—certainly not in waking life. On Seth’s suggestion, I told myself before sleep that I would have a dream that would give me further information about my own reincarnational past. At this time I really didn’t believe in reincarnation, but I said to Rob, “Well, what have I got to lose? I’ll try it.” Then I gave myself the suggestion several times and fell asleep.

As the dream opened, we entered a large hall. A group of men, attired in the same costumes, sat on brightly colored pillows on the floor, roughly in a circle, with the center of the floor clear. I knew all of the men from a previous life in which I had been their leader, dying very young. These men had grown old, while I had been reborn. Now I had come back to fulfill a promise I had made to return. I was well aware that they would not recognize me in this body in which they had not known me.

I stated my case, while they listened politely. Their spokesman told me that their dead leader had promised them that on his return he would perform one particular feat for which he was known to prove his identity. He asked me, then, to show by my actions that I was this personality, ready to take over his rightful position. Rob and I both smiled, having anticipated the test.

The center of the hall was vacant except for a few low tables. Rob-to-be asked that these be removed for the demonstration. This was done and the men came closer, squatting on the pillows. My partner stood behind me. I took several light bouncing footsteps that were somehow ceremonial, and then left my physical body. It slumped down to the floor, and my partner gently moved it to the side.

Then, in my astral body I went flying through the hall, which had a high-domed ceiling. Laughing at what I considered a great practical joke, I swung low above each man in turn and whisked off his turban. My partner handed me a feather—apparently he could see me clearly, and I could manipulate physical objects. Waving the feather through the air, I flew back and forth again several times so that, watching the feather, the men could follow my progress above them.

The Turkish life was the only colorful past life I’ve had to my present knowledge. The Boston life was ordinary enough, according to what Seth said. I made no big splash as a medium, and gave sittings in order to help others and help pay the rent. I was quite undisciplined, however, and flighty—personality defects that I am trying to correct in this life. This dream, I believe, was to remind me that I had once been in a position of authority, and should not now be afraid of responsibility, or of my abilities. Seth insists that many people have dreams that give them information about past lives, but often they do not remember them simply because they do not realize the importance of dreams in general.

Seth gave us instructions first in dream recall. Following this, he told us how to awaken our critical faculties while we were dreaming, and how to project our consciousness out of our bodies, using a dream as a sort of launching pad. I was always delighted to try any experiments Seth suggested, and I still am. The resulting personal experience gave me subjective evidence of the validity of many of Seth’s concepts; besides, I like to do things on my own.

Startled, I looked around again. Everything seemed normal enough. Wherever I was, it was a physical place. Something made me look up. A young man was looking at me with a pleased, cat-caught-the-canary grin. He was one of the clerks, and I saw now that most of the clerks were quite young, and they were watching me.

I didn’t know what to do or say. “Look, I’m really in an out-of-body state. This is an astral projection!” They’d never believe me. But what about the three books with my name on them and the clerk’s knowing smile?

He told me and said, “But forget it. That is, you won’t remember anyhow.”

No matter what anyone said, I was determined to remember any specific material I could—names, street signs, or route numbers. Finally the clerk offered to take me on a tour, when I told him I was going to explore the place alone in any case. He was very nice. We chatted and he pointed out places of interest in the city even while he warned me that I wouldn’t be able to remember them.

Then, without any warning, I felt myself pulled away. There was a terrific whooshing sound and I was back in my body. I really felt tricked. Usually its quite difficult to go right back to the same location, but I was so angry that I willed myself back. Not that it did me much good. I “landed” on the same corner, but the young man was nowhere to be found. Then I set out to find the hotel, and while I swear I walked the block three times and recognized the other buildings, I just couldn’t find the hotel. Finally I returned to my body.

Whole blocks of sessions deal with the methods used and the conditions that can be met in projections of consciousness from the dream state. Seth says that he has personally assisted me in some of my own projection experiments, but that I have not been aware of his assistance. I’ve never dreamed of Seth, and I find this rather strange. I’ve often awakened, fully alert, in the middle of the night, suddenly conscious that I’ve been giving a kind of Seth session. I can hear Seth’s words going through my head like signals. It’s as if I’m tuning in on a radio broadcast that I’m not supposed to be hearing, because when I start to listen there is a clicking sound in my head, and the “station” turns off. On two occasions I heard enough to know what was being said and to whom the sessions were directed. Later the people involved told me that they dreamed that Seth was speaking to them through me on the same nights as my experiences. I had said nothing to them; they volunteered the information.