My Library

8/17/60 Night This was a misdirected attempt, to understate by an incalculable margin. I went through the 1-2O/LQ procedure at around 11:30 P.M., in the bedroom. I went out with the thought of visiting Agnew Bahnson, and started on the windblown type of trip, but returned to the physical almost immediately—or so I thought. I wasn't lying in bed, I was standing. The room wasn't my room. A man, big and round-shouldered, was supporting me on my left. He was much taller than I, and his shoulders seemed to glisten. Holding me up on my right was a young girl. They were forcing me to walk around the room, and I was having difficulty walking, so they were half-supporting me under each arm. I heard them comment about my hands, that there was something wrong or unusual about them. They were not unfriendly, but I knew positively that I was in the wrong place I kept my head, luckily, and employed the stretch and shot up out of wherever and whatever I was, and after only a moment or two, merged again with a physical body, I looked around carefully (physically) before I moved. I was back in my own physical body, my own bedroom. It was a long time before I turned over and was able to get to sleep! 11/23/60 Night This was a most unusual and vivid experience, and I do not know if I want any more like it. I went to bed late, very tired, around two in the morning. The vibrations came in promptly without induction, and I decided to "do something" in spite of the need for rest. (Maybe this is rest.) After moving out easily, and visiting several places in quick sequence, and remembering the rest need, I attempted to get back to the physical. 1 thought of my body lying in bed, and almost immediately, I was lying in bed. But I quickly realized something was wrong. There was a boxlike contraption over my feet, evidently to hold the sheet off my legs. There were two people in the room, a man and a woman dressed in white whom I recognized as a nurse. They were talking softly a short distance from the bed. My first thought was that something had gone wrong, that my wife had discovered me in some kind of coma and had rushed me to the hospital. The nurse, the sterile atmosphere of the room, and the bed all supported this. But something still did not feel right After a moment, the two stopped talking and the woman (nurse) turned and went out of the room, and the man approached the bed. 1 grew panicky because I did not know what he was going to do. I became more so as he bent over the bed and held gently but firmly onto each of my arms at the biceps, and looked at me with bulging, glistening eyes. Worst of all, I desperately