“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

“But the experiments did release my abilities,” I protested to Rob. “That proves the point, doesn’t it? I never had any psychic experiences before—”

“Don’t tell me, tell the publisher,” Rob said. “For the life of me I can’t understand why Seth’s emergence doesn’t make it a far better book than it would be otherwise.”

Rob and I were both practicing with predictions; they took but a few moments daily. We cleared our minds of objective thoughts and wrote down whatever came into our heads, trying to predict the day’s events. The trick was to give the intuitional self freedom and not to intellectualize. Results surprised us, and convinced us that most people have more knowledge of the future than they realize. We discovered, among other things, that we would often foresee different portions of one event.

“It’s put up or shut up time. That’s what it amounts to,” I said tearfully to Rob. “If this isn’t a lot of bunk, then let’s see you or Seth walk through walls!”

“But Seth said he’d do it,” Rob said, reasonably enough.

Yet even to Rob I couldn’t voice my fears. Suppose Seth couldn’t? Wouldn’t that mean that everything else was some kind of subconscious fraud? Why had Seth agreed when he knew, whoever he was, that I was scared stiff?

“You’re afraid of putting this stuff to the test,” Rob said. “But that’s all right at this stage of the game. I’d rather you didn’t push it.”

“Is he supposed to be omnipotent?” Rob asked, grinning.

While I hesitated trying the experiment, Rob sent Dr. Osis some more of the material. Dr. Osis wrote that he wasn’t interested in the material itself, since it didn’t fall within his field of empirical psychology. He asked us not to send more unless it contained reports of ESP demonstrations. Even though he expressed interest in “testing” Seth for ESP, and suggested again that we try the clairvoyant experiment, I was put off by the letter. So I sulked: If he didn’t express interest in the material, which I thought was terrific, then he could just go find someone else to go looking through his walls!

In the meantime, changes were occurring in my trance states. For the first year I paced the room constantly, while speaking for Seth. My eyes were open, the pupils dilated and much darker than usual. But in the 116th session, December of 1964, I sat down and closed my eyes for the first time. Rob wisely said nothing until the session was over. Seth told us that this was an experimental procedure and would not continue unless I gave full consent.

(It would be January 1966 before the next change in my trance behavior. After having sessions for a year with my eyes closed, I suddenly began opening them again, though the trance was even deeper than before. There was quite a noticeable alteration of muscle pattern and facial gestures—an overall personality change. The expression in the eyes was not only un-Jane-like. It definitely belonged to Seth. To all intents and purposes, Seth was comfortably ensconced in my physical body. This is our current procedure also, and apparently it gives Seth a certain freedom of expression. He often looks directly at Rob, for example, or at anyone else to whom he is speaking.)

In spring 1965, about a year after we wrote Dr. Osis, Rob wrote to Dr. Instream (not his real name), who was connected with a state university in upstate New York. Dr. Instream had been one of the nation’s foremost psychologists in his earlier years, and had investigated many mediums in the past. If Seth was a secondary personality he would know it, I thought. Again we enclosed a few sessions with one letter. Dr. Instream wrote back, expressing interest and inviting us to attend the National Hypnosis Symposium to be held in July 1965.

By now we’d experimented with hypnosis in some age-regression and reincarnational work. In these I acted as hypnotist, with Rob as subject. We had never used hypnosis to induce a trance in Seth sessions, however, and we had no experience with hypnosis when the sessions began. Would Dr. Instream want me to go under hypnosis? I wasn’t at all sure that I would consent. Now, after reading about the hypnotic testing undergone by Mrs. Eileen Garrett, the famous medium, I know I’d never stand for it myself. (Self-hypnosis is something else—I use it now to give myself general good-health suggestions.)

We were delighted at the prospect of meeting Dr. Instream, but in order to pay for the trip, including fees for symposium attendance, we would have to use our vacation money. Besides this, Rob was now working in the art department of a local greeting card company in the mornings, and painting in the afternoons. So we would have to take vacation time to make the trip.

Rob sat on one side of me and Dr. Instream on the other. I decided that I wasn’t going to be hypnotized, but I lowered my eyes so as not to be conspicuous. When it became apparent that most of the audience had dutifully gone under—sitting there and reminding me somehow of pigeons with wings neatly folded—I looked up cautiously to see what Dr. Instream was doing. He was looking back. Rob was grinning, watching both of us.

Dr. Instream was delightful. Later, we were in a Howard Johnson’s restaurant in Oswego talking with the good doctor when I abruptly felt Seth about. We’d never had a session away from home. Nervously I kept trying to make eye-signs at Rob. Once I kicked his leg, hoping that I didn’t kick the doctor’s by mistake. Finally I caught Rob’s eye. He got the message and shrugged comically.

I guess we might have set some kind of a record. First I’d say something, then Dr. Instream, then Seth, then Rob—like a round robin. Seth called Dr. Instream by his first name, and the two of them sounded as if they were old cronies. I was a bit appalled. After all, Dr. Instream was a distinguished elderly gentleman. Rob took all the notes he could, scribbling furiously.

Unfortunately, we also spoke to another psychologist at the symposium, one much closer to my own age. We met during one of the informal get-togethers. When he discovered that we weren’t connected with the medical profession in any way, he asked what our interest was in the symposium. So we told him. One thing led to another. A discussion about Seth followed, and Rob showed him some of our notes, later, in our room.

After speaking to us for less than an hour, the psychologist assured me that I was schizoid, using the sessions to dominate Rob. Once, he grabbed the notes from the bureau and approached me like some wrathful god, waving them in my face. “You think it’s necessary to take all these records, don’t you?” he demanded.

“We need them. Rob takes them,” I managed to say.

“But Rob’s the one who takes them …”

“He only talked with us for thirty minutes or so, hon,” Rob said.

We drove up past the stately university buildings. How neat and orderly! If only life were that neat, I thought. Rob was still trying to comfort me when we arrived at Dr. Instream’s office. Was I really one of those talkative domineering women who used any kind of trick to control their husbands? I looked over at Rob. He stood there, quiet but assured, “cool” versus my “hot”—my idea of a man. Usually I’m talkative. Now I shut up and let Rob do the talking—or tried to let him.

Then, on our return home, Rob had another idea. Suppose we tried something along the same lines on our own? So at the same time we initiated our envelope tests, in which Seth was asked to give his impressions of the contents of double sealed envelopes.