“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Not too long ago, a young psychology professor called and asked me to speak to his class at the local college. It was a small group of about fifteen students, so I suggested that they come to my apartment instead. The man’s attitude was apparent the minute he came in the door. Personally he wouldn’t touch a medium with a ten-foot pole, but since they did exist and he knew of one, he felt duty-bound to “expose” his students to the phenomenon. And undoubtedly, he patted himself on the back for his broad-mindedness.

At the time, we were having sessions in the bedroom, which is small, with one window looking out on the large yard. It was summer; hardly anyone knew of the sessions yet, and Seth’s full voice, rising out on the nighttime air, would have raised questions we weren’t ready to answer. As he has done since the beginning, Rob sat with pen and paper, taking verbatim notes. He often felt quite warm, since we closed the window to keep the sessions as private as possible, particularly since neighbors were often sitting in the yard. (The heat never bothers me when I’m in trance, although otherwise I’m very susceptible to it.)

I felt what Seth was saying, as if the words were translated into subjective experience. It was more like being swept along into something else than being, say, negated. My ego wasn’t lost, but became part of the concepts Seth was talking about. I was inside them, looking out.