“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

It was just last week that Jon called again. Sally was in the hospital, after a bad attack during which her heart had stopped for a short time. Jon was torn between praying for her recovery and for her release by death, and he asked if we’d have a session on the matter.

Seth had often told us that when we’re finished with our lives here, we’re actually anxious to leave this existence. When the body is worn out, we really want to get rid of it. The instinct for survival is served quite well, because the inner self knows that it lives beyond death. Still, I hated to say this to Jon over the phone. In theory it sounded fine, but naturally I knew he wanted Sally to live. I knew that he hoped for some miracle—at least a partial recovery, a reprieve.

Again, at the time of the session Sally was in deep coma. She hadn’t been able to speak for over a year. First Seth gave a page or so of impressions, names, initials, events, and so forth, that he said he “derived from a certain portion of the girl’s consciousness—disjointed memories, thoughts, and ideas.

During our break, Rob mentioned several questions that he thought Jon would like answered, or that might come to his mind as he read the session. One had to do with the kind of body Sally had at her disposal. Seth said, “Now the new body is, of course, not a new one at all, but simply a body not physical in your terms, one that you use in astral projections, one that gives the vitality and strength to the physical body that you know.

“Jon must tell her that she is free to leave, and that he joyfully gives her her freedom, so that even after death she does not feel she must stay close to him. She knows they will be reunited … and realizes he is not as aware of this as she is.”

A few days after this session we were visited by a retired minister and his wife. Rev. Lowe, as I’ll call him, publishes a national newsletter which discusses the psychic elements of Christianity. We had been corresponding for a few years, but had not met. I told him about Jon’s session, and he was very interested in what Seth had to say about Sally’s experience while in coma.

Rev. Lowe and his wife came on a class night, and so of course I invited them to attend. I try to keep classes as informal as possible. Everyone is on a first-name basis, and each of us wears whatever clothing is most comfortable and natural. Men in business suits mix with people in hippie outfits, and we always have wine for those who like it. I admit I wondered what Rev. Lowe would think, and hoped he didn’t expect something like a prayer meeting. In our own way we do use prayer—but in a highly creative, unstructured, unconventional manner. Sometimes we play rock ‘n’ roll music, for instance, while I read a poem—and this I would consider prayer.

Suddenly Seth came through, saying: “And I thought you were on your good behavior because I was here! I will have to learn to be a reverend rock drummer, and I will keep the beat with you.” After this he spoke to various class members, and then invited Rev. Lowe to ask whatever questions came to his mind.

Rev. Lowe asked other questions but no more relating to the subject at hand. He and Seth seemed to get along very well. Later, in a break, I received several impressions of a past life of Mrs. Lowe’s. While a general discussion was going on, I “saw” her near a riding academy in fourteenth-century France; and then I saw her and Rev. Lowe as twins in Greece, when he was an orator and she a soldier. There were other details, but the interesting thing was that Mrs. Lowe told me afterward that she was really crazy about horses, and that Greece and France were the only countries in which she had any great interest.

Seth rarely gives reincarnational data unless it is directly tied in with the overall development of an individual’s present life, and he refuses to give past life histories, for example, to those he thinks will not apply the lessons involved. Strangely enough, he did give such information once in a class to three college girls who clearly did not believe in reincarnation to begin with. They had just begun classes, and while they were curious about ESP, they had little patience with the theory of reincarnation—before the session, that is.

“You will reincarnate whether or not you believe that you will,” Seth began, smiling. “It is much easier if your theories fit reality, but if they do not, then you do not change the nature of reincarnation one iota.” He went on to give Lydia a rather detailed description of a past life around the area of Bangor, Maine, in 1832, when she was a male. This was Lydia’s first Seth session and she sat wiggling nervously in her chair as Seth gave names, dates, and particular episodes of this past life.

When he was finished, she said, “Well, I don’t know what to say, but I’ll tell you this. The crazy thing is that I spent my childhood in Bangor, Maine, and when we moved to New York State I wouldn’t give New York as my home. I always felt that I belonged in Maine. And Seth said that—” She broke off, and read her notes. Then she said excitedly, “Seth said that a Miranda Charbeau from the French side of my family in that past life married into the Franklin Bacon family of Boston. Again, it’s crazy, it really is, because my family this time is connected with the Roger Bacon family from Boston.”

“There was death by fire on two occassions.” Following this statement Seth gave details from an Irish life of Jean’s in 1524. Then he went on to give the following data, which we found most interesting. I’ll give it exactly as we received it, though it was somewhat confusing in the beginning, since Seth just jumped into it.

But Seth wasn’t through. He gave reincarnational material for another student, Connie, and mentioned in particular a life in Denmark when she had died as a small boy of diphtheria. And that really did it! Connie surprised everyone, particularly the other college girls, by saying that since she was a small child she’d been frightened of getting diphtheria, and that she could never understand why.

“Seth said earlier that all time existed at once,” said Jean. “Then how come he talks about reincarnational lives or a series of lives one before the other? The two don’t seem to go together.”

In the 256th session he said, “Because you are obsessed with the idea of past, present, and future, you are forced to think of reincarnations as strung out one before the other. Indeed we speak of past lives because you are used to the time sequence concept. What you have instead is something like the developments narrated in The Three Faces of Eve. You have dominant egos, all a part of an inner identity, dominant in various existences. But the separate existences exist simultaneously. Only the egos involved make the time distinction. 145 B.C., A.D. 145, a thousand years in your past, and a thousand years in your future—all exist now.”

In fact, Seth gave three or four sessions in which he compared cases of “split” personalities to our reincarnation selves. He ended up by saying, “It is interesting that the personalities [in Three Faces of Eve] did alternate, and all were in existence at once, so to speak, even though only one was dominant at any given time. In the same way, so-called past personalities are present in you now but not dominant.”

So while Seth often explains present life problems as the result of past life difficulties, he makes it clear to those that can understand that the lives really exist simultaneously, just as three personalities can exist in one body at one time. But all problems are not the result of such “past life” influences. In one case, a friend’s hang-ups in the present originated right in this life, though her boyfriend’s were left over from the past.

He told her that she was projecting this image upon each male she met, and then reacting to it instead of to the individual. He gave her some mental exercises calculated to help her dissolve this false image. Here Doris began to cry a little. Seth smiled and said, “Now, now, do not sniffle. I am not your father giving you an arithmetic lesson. I put myself out to help you, and for this I get tears. I usually do not have that effect on people.”

“Well, then why doesn’t Frank [not his real name] date and have ordinary relationships with women? He’s manly enough” she said. Then, almost with a touch of defiance she added, “He’s not effeminate.” And in this case, the main problem lay in “past life” troubles:

“He was a woman. His present parents were his brothers in the American Revolutionary period in the same geographical area as now. His brothers were involved as spies. Your Frank, as their sister, disclosed their hiding place in a cellar beneath an old inn. She was captured when she went out for supplies, gave away the location, and could not warn the brothers. She felt she had abandoned and betrayed them.”

Seth went on to say that in this life, Frank chose to return as the son of the two brothers who themselves are now man and wife. “Now he rationalizes his desire not to leave home. The brothers never held him responsible … they knew the girl had been terrified and spoken out of fear with no intent to betray them. There is no punishment involved. He has chosen in this life to be of service to them and to help others. His secrecy [he was very tight-lipped] is the result of these past experiences. Once he feels he spoke too much and betrayed too much. Now he is secretive about matters he considers important.”

Seth emphasized that for his own reasons, Frank did not want a marriage relationship, and ended by telling Doris that she had chosen him for this reason—that she never saw the man as he was, but only the image she had projected upon him. He gave Frank’s name in a past life as Achman incidentally, and much later Doris learned that his present family has an Achman branch.

An editor I’ll call Matt came to visit us from New York. We had corresponded but never met before. He had read a manuscript of mine and knew about Seth. We liked each other at once, but it was primarily a business meeting. And then, I felt that Matt would want me to “prove my abilities” somehow or other, and I didn’t want to feel under pressure.

“So we find two lives devoted to the nurture of others. But in both cases the personality was filled with an inner dread, to some extent resenting those he helped. If he were out helping others, then who would mind the store? He was afraid his stock would be gone.

“In two other lives, there was instead the development of inner abilities to the exclusion of others, a closing down of windows and barring of doors. He would not look out, and no one dared look in. He would make horrible funny faces at the window of his soul to frighten others away. Yet through all of this, the inner abilities did grow. He ‘added to his stock.’

“Now he has begun to synthesize these inner and outer conditions. He realizes that the inner self need not be so heavily guarded, that his identity will not escape from him like a dog who leaves the leash. … Now, you see that I am a friendly chap, indeed, like an old dog with a long leash—”

At this, Rob and Matt both burst out laughing. Then Seth went into some information, connecting some of the young man’s present interests with past activities. He mentioned several past lives, but emphasized one as being particularly significant. “You were a member of a monastic group who classified and collected various kinds of seeds. The group worked on manuscripts officially, but our friend here and several others were bootleg seed finders, believing against currently held theories that questions concerning nature could be answered by examining nature.

At this point, as Seth talked I seemed to be looking down on the scene he described. I watched the monk from some point behind and above, as he wandered away from the monastery and through the fields. Seth went on to say that the monk’s experiments contributed to achievements made later in the same field by another monk.

He also gave some excellent advice that I’m sure many other people could use: “Do not use your intellect like a shiny banner to wave from your windows. You are using it like a gaudy plaything that belongs to you. You wind it up like a fine toy, but you are careful of the directions in which you let it run. Your intellect is a fine one, but you have allowed yourself to be fascinated by its sparkling quality, and not used it thoroughly as a tool.”

Matt, for instance, was astonished by the character analysis which he said pegged him to a T. More, the crest mentioned by Seth was highly similiar, he told us, to his own private doodle that he sketched while on the phone or in odd moments. Another interesting point: a few years earlier the editor had written two plays—one featuring a monk who lived on the seacoast near Bordeaux, and the other also set in France in the thirteenth century. These facts, of course, were unknown to us.