You Have to Kiss the Toad from the media I Am Always Here

A man shares his experience of repeating ‘I am’ during the out-breath in the second meditation session earlier that day, which helped him to abide as being. He jokingly asks Rupert why he didn’t tell them about the ‘I am’ practice on the first day of the retreat. Rupert replies that he didn’t want them all to leave on the first day.

A man expresses his gratitude for the morning meditation, sharing how it seemed to him that Rupert synthesised all teachings and scriptures into the simple essence of ‘I am,’ simply being.

A man, enjoying the benefits of resting as awareness, struggles to understand the ‘I am’ meditation and asks how the two practices are related. Rupert replies that awareness and being are the same; they are merely two different ways to describe the same experience. When we say ‘I am,’ essentially, we’re saying ‘I know that I am.’ But, are there two separate ‘I’s? Or is the ‘I’ that I am the same ‘I’ that knows that I am?

A woman touched by this morning’s meditation asks if the ‘movie of her life’ overlaps with everyone else’s. Rupert replies that yes, his movie overlaps with her movie; of course, her internal movie, thoughts and feelings, is not shared; it’s private. But each of our movies also include the experience of the world, which is shared.

A man asks if there is an objective truth to our experiences. Rupert replies that there is a reality to our experience, whatever it may be; all experience is a movement, a vibration of consciousness outside of our finite mind but within infinite consciousness and made of that consciousness.

A woman shares her experience of feeling as if all the cells of her body were impacted by the morning meditation, especially by Rupert’s statement that it is not us who surrender to God, but God who surrenders to us. She asks about the impact of this understanding on the body. Rupert suggests that this statement bypassed the filter of her mind, going straight through to the heart of her being, resulting in an impact at the cellular level. This, he explains, is the power of really deep understanding.

A man asks about the Pathless Path, unsure if he is engaged in it. Rupert responds that in the progressive path, objective meditation directs our attention to objects of experience. In the Direct Path, subjective meditation, we don’t give attention to thoughts and feelings; rather, attention is given to our self. It’s the journey from King Lear to John Smith, moving towards the self we truly are. Both the progressive path and Direct Path begin with a presumption of separation – the separate self we seem to be. On the Pathless Path, we start with being and stay there; it is not what we do, but who we are, just being.

A man asks about the experience of people aware of their true nature but undergoing cognitive decline. Rupert shares about his late mother, who had Alzheimer’s disease. He recalls her saying, ‘Darling, I just noticed that I am always here,’ referring to her experience of being. Although the content of her mind differed from his, their experience of their true nature was the same.

A woman shares her experience during a meditation of listening with her heart and connecting to her being. Rupert responds that his impression is she is directly going to her being. In the past, access to that place in her was through a relationship to her therapist, teacher, or a tree – now she has direct access to go there.

A man shares about his connection with Rupert and expresses a feeling of love and forgiveness for himself.

A man asks about the word ‘luminous’. Rupert explains that just as the sun illuminates the earth, awareness illuminates our experience, so it is luminous. Luminosity is a quality that renders our experience knowable; it is the light of pure knowing.

A man asks whether resting in being is more about snapping the habit of reifying the personal self than it is about a practice. Rupert says yes and recommends making a habit of returning to the pure experience of being before it is qualified or mixed with experience, to the point where you live as that.

A man asks about the practical implications of this understanding in Rupert’s life. Rupert replies that there is certainly less time wasted on personal drama, more space for creativity, and more care for others. Your mind is less full of personal concerns; there is more space to let others in. We feel a deeper sense of friendship with other people, and there is room for creativity. Friendship and creativity flourish as a result of this understanding.

A woman shares about her hearing loss. With a diminishing ability to hear Rupert’s words during meditation, she is trusting her being more and more, and she is experiencing the retreat more from the heart than from her head. Rupert responds that sooner or later, the intellectual understanding sinks into our heart and then from the heart into the body. In time, words become less important. All you need to know is that peace and happiness are the nature of your being and that you share your being with everyone and everything. All you need to know is ‘I am’, and all the teachings are just commentary on ‘I am’. If you understand ‘I am’, you don’t need teachings anymore. Let the words go.

A woman ask Rupert to recite the prayer he has been saying everyday before bed, which he does.

A woman shares her experience of fragility, and that she cried after speaking to someone. She asks about Rupert’s experience of being human. Rupert tells her that tears can come for two reasons: either your heart has been melted, leading your body to open and soften, making tears a natural expression, or you’ve been personally hurt, feeling fragile, which usually leads to contraction. He advises Katie to do the opposite: open up to the feeling and the person you feel has hurt you.

A woman shares her experience of having difficulty following the meditations this week, as if the words don’t mean anything to her. Rupert replies that he usually waits until the last evening of the retreat to say this, but after a while, you don’t need to listen to all the words during the meditations. You sink down below your thinking, feelings and perceptions but hover above falling asleep. It’s like floating on the ocean. You let your attention sink into and rest in awareness.

A man shares his experience of repeating ‘I am’ during the out-breath in the second meditation session earlier that day, which helped him to abide as being. He jokingly asks Rupert why he didn’t tell them about the ‘I am’ practice on the first day of the retreat. Rupert replies that he didn’t want them all to leave on the first day.

A man expresses his gratitude for the morning meditation, sharing how it seemed to him that Rupert synthesised all teachings and scriptures into the simple essence of ‘I am,’ simply being.

A man, enjoying the benefits of resting as awareness, struggles to understand the ‘I am’ meditation and asks how the two practices are related. Rupert replies that awareness and being are the same; they are merely two different ways to describe the same experience. When we say ‘I am,’ essentially, we’re saying ‘I know that I am.’ But, are there two separate ‘I’s? Or is the ‘I’ that I am the same ‘I’ that knows that I am?

A woman touched by this morning’s meditation asks if the ‘movie of her life’ overlaps with everyone else’s. Rupert replies that yes, his movie overlaps with her movie; of course, her internal movie, thoughts and feelings, is not shared; it’s private. But each of our movies also include the experience of the world, which is shared.

A man asks if there is an objective truth to our experiences. Rupert replies that there is a reality to our experience, whatever it may be; all experience is a movement, a vibration of consciousness outside of our finite mind but within infinite consciousness and made of that consciousness.

A woman shares her experience of feeling as if all the cells of her body were impacted by the morning meditation, especially by Rupert’s statement that it is not us who surrender to God, but God who surrenders to us. She asks about the impact of this understanding on the body. Rupert suggests that this statement bypassed the filter of her mind, going straight through to the heart of her being, resulting in an impact at the cellular level. This, he explains, is the power of really deep understanding.

A man asks about the Pathless Path, unsure if he is engaged in it. Rupert responds that in the progressive path, objective meditation directs our attention to objects of experience. In the Direct Path, subjective meditation, we don’t give attention to thoughts and feelings; rather, attention is given to our self. It’s the journey from King Lear to John Smith, moving towards the self we truly are. Both the progressive path and Direct Path begin with a presumption of separation – the separate self we seem to be. On the Pathless Path, we start with being and stay there; it is not what we do, but who we are, just being.

A man asks about the experience of people aware of their true nature but undergoing cognitive decline. Rupert shares about his late mother, who had Alzheimer’s disease. He recalls her saying, ‘Darling, I just noticed that I am always here,’ referring to her experience of being. Although the content of her mind differed from his, their experience of their true nature was the same.

A woman shares her experience during a meditation of listening with her heart and connecting to her being. Rupert responds that his impression is she is directly going to her being. In the past, access to that place in her was through a relationship to her therapist, teacher, or a tree – now she has direct access to go there.

A man shares about his connection with Rupert and expresses a feeling of love and forgiveness for himself.

A man asks about the word ‘luminous’. Rupert explains that just as the sun illuminates the earth, awareness illuminates our experience, so it is luminous. Luminosity is a quality that renders our experience knowable; it is the light of pure knowing.

A man asks whether resting in being is more about snapping the habit of reifying the personal self than it is about a practice. Rupert says yes and recommends making a habit of returning to the pure experience of being before it is qualified or mixed with experience, to the point where you live as that.

A man asks about the practical implications of this understanding in Rupert’s life. Rupert replies that there is certainly less time wasted on personal drama, more space for creativity, and more care for others. Your mind is less full of personal concerns; there is more space to let others in. We feel a deeper sense of friendship with other people, and there is room for creativity. Friendship and creativity flourish as a result of this understanding.

A woman shares about her hearing loss. With a diminishing ability to hear Rupert’s words during meditation, she is trusting her being more and more, and she is experiencing the retreat more from the heart than from her head. Rupert responds that sooner or later, the intellectual understanding sinks into our heart and then from the heart into the body. In time, words become less important. All you need to know is that peace and happiness are the nature of your being and that you share your being with everyone and everything. All you need to know is ‘I am’, and all the teachings are just commentary on ‘I am’. If you understand ‘I am’, you don’t need teachings anymore. Let the words go.

A woman ask Rupert to recite the prayer he has been saying everyday before bed, which he does.

A woman shares her experience of fragility, and that she cried after speaking to someone. She asks about Rupert’s experience of being human. Rupert tells her that tears can come for two reasons: either your heart has been melted, leading your body to open and soften, making tears a natural expression, or you’ve been personally hurt, feeling fragile, which usually leads to contraction. He advises Katie to do the opposite: open up to the feeling and the person you feel has hurt you.

A woman shares her experience of having difficulty following the meditations this week, as if the words don’t mean anything to her. Rupert replies that he usually waits until the last evening of the retreat to say this, but after a while, you don’t need to listen to all the words during the meditations. You sink down below your thinking, feelings and perceptions but hover above falling asleep. It’s like floating on the ocean. You let your attention sink into and rest in awareness.