Any acknowledgment of the existence of the Second Body immediately demands the question mankind has pondered since the day he learned to think: Do we… - Robert Monroe

I was about to lift out when two hands held a book in front of my closed eyes. The book was riffled, turned around on all sides so that I could see that it was a book. The book was then opened, and I started to read. The gist of what I read was that in order willfully to bring back a condition, it was necessary to recreate the feeling of a similar experience that had occurred in the past (i.e., was a part of your memory). I took this to mean that one should think of the "feeling," rather than the details of the incident. Several illustrations were given, then gradually the book went out of focus as the vibrations faded, and try as I might, I could not continue reading. Finally, I sat up physically and made notes.

This Second Body has weight as we understand it. It is subject to gravitational attraction, although much less than the physical body. The physicist might explain this, of course, by saying that it is a question of mass, and anything that can interpenetrate a wall must have so little density as to be able to sift through the space between the molecular matter structure. Such little density implies very little mass—but it still may be matter. This is further supported by the half-out experiment, where the legs and hips were separated, then allowed to drift downward and drape over the bed. The low-density mass fell as a feather would fall. Pushing through the wall may be an example also.

One of the greatest enigmas of this whole affair is that someone—or more than one—has been helping me from time to time in such experimentation. Perhaps they are with me every time, and I am just not aware of them. I do not know who these helpers are or why they are helping me. They certainly do not seem to be guardian angels, although a more conventionally oriented personality might so interpret them. They do not always respond when I need help, nor are they always responsive to prayer. Mental anguish and screaming have sometimes brought one of them. More often, they help me when I do not ask for help—or again, when I am not aware of asking. Their assistance seems to be more of their choosing and deliberation than mine. They are rarely "friendly" in the sense that we understand the term. Yet there is a definite sense of understanding, knowledge, and purposefulness in their actions toward me. I feel no intent on their part to bring harm to me and I trust their directions.