In other cases, when the medium becomes entranced, the

In this haunting reflection, Oliver Joseph Lodge, a physicist who sought to bridge the seen and unseen, speaks of the strange frontier between mind and mystery, between the living consciousness and that which might dwell beyond it. His words — “when the medium becomes entranced, the demonstration of a communicator’s separate intelligence may become stronger and the sophistication less” — reach beyond the mere practice of spiritualism. They touch upon the fragile moment when human awareness steps aside, and something greater — or deeper — speaks through. He is describing not only séance and spirit, but the eternal tension between reason and revelation, intellect and intuition, mind and soul.

To become entranced, in Lodge’s sense, is to surrender the conscious self, to quiet the noise of analysis so that the subtle whispers of another reality can be heard. The medium, whether a vessel of spirits or an artist, a poet, a mystic, enters a state where thought yields to flow, and creation takes on a life of its own. When that happens, what emerges may appear raw, unpolished, even primitive — yet it is powerful. The intelligence that speaks is not bound by structure or refinement, but by pure essence. Lodge reminds us that when the gate between worlds opens, the voice that comes through may tremble with emotion, not eloquence — yet still carry truth.

We see this not only in the séance halls of Lodge’s time but in the lives of visionaries throughout history. Joan of Arc, a young girl with no formal learning, claimed to hear celestial voices guiding her toward impossible destiny. To the scholars and priests, her speech lacked sophistication; to those who followed her, it burned with divine intelligence. Her simplicity was not ignorance, but purity of channel. Her entrancement — her surrender to something beyond herself — made her both vulnerable and transcendent. Through her, an unseen communicator spoke, and though the words were simple, their power moved armies and altered history.

Even in art and science, the same pattern unfolds. The mathematician Srinivasa Ramanujan, with no formal training, claimed his equations were revealed to him by the goddess Namagiri in dreams. His proofs confounded the scholars of Cambridge — some elegant, some crude, yet all bearing an otherworldly precision. In his entrancement, the sophistication of method diminished, but the force of insight grew stronger. This is what Lodge spoke of: when one becomes the vessel, the form may falter, but the fire burns brighter.

The quote also conceals a deeper warning. For in the act of surrendering to mystery, discernment must remain awake. Not all voices that arise from trance — whether from spirit, inspiration, or the depths of the subconscious — are wise. The medium must learn to balance openness with awareness, to discern the pure from the deceptive, the eternal from the fleeting. In the ancient temples of Delphi, the priestess Pythia inhaled vapors and spoke in riddles. Her words were raw and fragmented, yet interpreted by priests who gave them form. It was the union of ecstasy and intellect, of inspiration and structure, that made prophecy meaningful.

Thus, Lodge’s teaching may be understood as a parable for all creators, seekers, and communicators: when the voice of inspiration overtakes the mind, do not fear its lack of polish. Truth often arrives clothed in simplicity, trembling and rough-edged. The task of the medium — whether mystic or artist — is not to beautify it, but to honor its authenticity. The soul of creation is not in ornament, but in presence. It is better to speak with trembling sincerity than to impress with hollow eloquence.

And so, the lesson for us, children of the future, is this: learn to enter your own trance. Not through magic or mysticism, but through deep attention. When you write, paint, pray, or listen — still the chatter of the mind. Let what is ancient within you speak. Allow the intelligence beyond your knowing to pass through, however rough its shape. Then, when the moment has passed, return and refine with reason. In this rhythm — surrender and shaping, chaos and craft — the soul of creation is born.

For the entranced are not mad; they are bridges. Through them, unseen truths find their form. And though their language may stumble, their message endures. So too may you become a medium of light, carrying through your work and your being a separate intelligence — not of spirits, but of the spirit within all things — speaking through you, to all who are ready to hear.