“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

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 seems ridiculous now that it took me 116 sessions before I’d close my eyes or stop pacing the floor. By the time this first change happened in my trance states, I’d already had my first out-of-body experience, and following Seth’s instructions I was having clairvoyant experiences during daily exercise periods. But I felt in control of these, while Seth was in control of sessions, and to me this made a difference. I agreed to the new trance procedure, but it was still some time before it became the rule rather than the exception. The trance was a deeper one, though, and the material launched into more complicated subjects. It was also during this time that Seth started removing my glasses just before he began to speak.

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.

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.

“This is one of the reasons that we have not tended toward a séance atmosphere … and also why I have largely avoided displays—”

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.

“A-hah,” he shouted—and he did shout. “That’s one of the main symptoms!”

“But Rob’s the one who takes them …”

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.

Dr. Instream told us that the psychologist’s behavior was an example of the sort of performance that so upset parapsychologists. But more, he told me once again that he’d found no such tendencies on my part. “The man’s had no experience in the practice of psychology,” he said. “He’s only read textbook cases of this or that.” Then he told us that while the experience was unfortunate, perhaps it was best that we encountered it early in the game. Academic psychologists were apt to take a dim view of mediumship, he said. I would have to let such comments roll off my back. I should have laughed at the young psychologist. I should have said, “Well, it takes one to know one,” or some such.