How Best to Use Intention from the media The Infection of Kindness

Inspired from a woman's question on a previous night, Rupert reads an extended excerpt of an essay he wrote about moving to a new house inspired by, and dedicated to, the divine.

A woman enquires if we send intentions unconsciously. Reflecting on experiences where thoughts about clients manifest in conversation, she wonders if this evidences connection beyond conscious intention. Rupert confirms this reflects the shared nature of consciousness – every moment we express deep understanding, either acting from separate self or true being. The synchronicity experienced before client meetings demonstrates the reality of prior connection and shared mind.

A man describes a study of identical buildings where visitors had completely different experiences based on what had previously occurred in each space – one used for divine exaltation, the other for torture. Rupert explains that walls, not space itself, store the energies of experiences. Under the consciousness-only model, walls appear to be matter but are ultimately consciousness; they can bear the ‘energies’ of past experiences because things are ideas that can influence emotions.

A woman shares a conceptual model developed during the retreat: infinite consciousness localises in a body-mind, creating an apparent subject-object split; within this is a ‘window of conscious awareness’ illuminated by infinite consciousness where we experience qualia. This window, containing less than five percent of body-mind activity, can expand or contract. Rupert affirms the model’s accuracy, noting the two ‘portals’ described (subjectivity/I am-ness and light of knowing) are actually the same opening to consciousness.

A man shares an awakening experience that occurred at 3 a.m. during the retreat, moving between feeling love and sadness until noticing the “I am” peeking out between the two. He realised the “I am” doesn’t want anything, love wants to show itself, and suffering wants to extinguish itself, but questions the nature of fear. Rupert describes fear as simply the veiling of love, having no substance of its own but borrowing its apparent reality from love.

A man shares how developing a kindness practice in recent years came from being ‘infected’ by Rupert’s example. He describes being Rupert’s ‘kindness child’ despite being 20 years older, emphasising the importance of living these teachings through kindness rather than merely understanding them intellectually. He then shares a dream of placing a hand on a political figure with compassionate understanding, which Rupert affirms represents the correct position of unconditional love.

A man expresses feeling joy, freedom and peace most of the time, yet sometimes experiencing loneliness and a desire to share about his life with one person. Rupert responds directly, suggesting the man needs to pause, quiet down, and connect from the heart rather than from a ‘shiny, bubbling effervescence’ that may be defending against true intimacy. He notes this is the second time the man has asked the same question, encouraging him to go for deeper authenticity rather than seeking surface-level affirmation.

A man shares feeling that this retreat was their best experience, describing a beautiful moment of contentment and appreciating the community as a ‘museum’ of beautiful works of art. Rupert agrees this has been the best retreat, emphasising that the teaching emerges through the interaction between all participants, not from a prepared syllabus. He acknowledges the community’s love of truth and openness creates a living teaching that continuously evolves rather than becoming formulaic.

A man asks, when is it appropriate to stop relying on therapists and become self-sustained? Rupert advises continuing with therapy as long as the question arises, noting that therapeutic models increasingly incorporate non-dual understanding. He confirms that major life decisions should come from one’s deepest place rather than being influenced by insecurity, fear or anxiety, especially regarding significant changes like moving or relationships.

A man describes a pattern of shutting down emotionally when facing overwhelming situations, often triggered by seemingly insignificant events. Rupert identifies this as a primitive fight-or-flight mechanism, likely originating from childhood coping mechanisms. He explains that awareness of this pattern means the man has already begun standing back from it, enabling a new response. The pattern need not take years to dissolve; once seen clearly, the man can remain open despite feeling the impulse to contract.

A man shares that after his mother’s passing, she returned as ‘pure presence’ – the essence of mother beyond individual characteristics. Rupert affirms this understanding, noting that while the person seemed to pass away, who she truly is remained as presence. He connects this to the love experienced during the retreat, describing love as ‘literally the shining of God’s being in our relationships’, explaining why the week has been ‘suffused with love’.

A man describes the retreat as both a temple and a laboratory of subjective science – a vacuum chamber where separate self isn’t present, allowing for experimentation and experiencing synchronicity. Rupert appreciates this dual description, agreeing it functions as both a temple for divine worship and a scientific laboratory conducting ‘the highest science’ – exploring the nature of knowing with which all knowledge and experience are known.

A woman shares how, after five years of continuous letting go, she initially resisted attending the retreat but found it served as the ‘boulder in the river’ Rupert had described – something she had smashed into that ultimately dissolved and wrapped around her. Despite wanting to socialise and connect with others, the woman found herself guided to ‘just be’ instead, receiving exactly what was needed through allowing this quieter experience rather than participating in the usual way.

A 76-year-old man shares how being with Rupert has helped open his heart again after it had been broken at age 8 when his mother was taken to a sanitarium. The man expresses gratitude for the healing experienced through ‘looking for love in the right place’, describing how happiness has returned, bringing a childlike feeling despite physical age. The man feels redeemed and recovered through this process of heart opening.

A woman describes telling her partner about experiencing unconditional love from 134 people, then asks Rupert how he doesn’t weep every day. Rupert admits he often does weep internally, sometimes from overflow of love and joy, other times from heartbreak at world events. The woman connects this to feeling crushed when understanding shared humanity even with figures like Saddam Hussein, expressing gratitude for what Rupert brings to the world.

A woman, continuing an earlier conversation about her son, describes his conflicted response to love – wanting it but experiencing her expression as smothering. Rupert suggests that while some mothers need to be more demonstrative, in her case, stepping back would be more loving – giving her son space to define himself separately. He explains her son’s resistance as part of an established dance, warning that changing this pattern will initially provoke resistance as it threatens his familiar self-definition.

Inspired from a woman's question on a previous night, Rupert reads an extended excerpt of an essay he wrote about moving to a new house inspired by, and dedicated to, the divine.

A woman enquires if we send intentions unconsciously. Reflecting on experiences where thoughts about clients manifest in conversation, she wonders if this evidences connection beyond conscious intention. Rupert confirms this reflects the shared nature of consciousness – every moment we express deep understanding, either acting from separate self or true being. The synchronicity experienced before client meetings demonstrates the reality of prior connection and shared mind.

A man describes a study of identical buildings where visitors had completely different experiences based on what had previously occurred in each space – one used for divine exaltation, the other for torture. Rupert explains that walls, not space itself, store the energies of experiences. Under the consciousness-only model, walls appear to be matter but are ultimately consciousness; they can bear the ‘energies’ of past experiences because things are ideas that can influence emotions.

A woman shares a conceptual model developed during the retreat: infinite consciousness localises in a body-mind, creating an apparent subject-object split; within this is a ‘window of conscious awareness’ illuminated by infinite consciousness where we experience qualia. This window, containing less than five percent of body-mind activity, can expand or contract. Rupert affirms the model’s accuracy, noting the two ‘portals’ described (subjectivity/I am-ness and light of knowing) are actually the same opening to consciousness.

A man shares an awakening experience that occurred at 3 a.m. during the retreat, moving between feeling love and sadness until noticing the “I am” peeking out between the two. He realised the “I am” doesn’t want anything, love wants to show itself, and suffering wants to extinguish itself, but questions the nature of fear. Rupert describes fear as simply the veiling of love, having no substance of its own but borrowing its apparent reality from love.

A man shares how developing a kindness practice in recent years came from being ‘infected’ by Rupert’s example. He describes being Rupert’s ‘kindness child’ despite being 20 years older, emphasising the importance of living these teachings through kindness rather than merely understanding them intellectually. He then shares a dream of placing a hand on a political figure with compassionate understanding, which Rupert affirms represents the correct position of unconditional love.

A man expresses feeling joy, freedom and peace most of the time, yet sometimes experiencing loneliness and a desire to share about his life with one person. Rupert responds directly, suggesting the man needs to pause, quiet down, and connect from the heart rather than from a ‘shiny, bubbling effervescence’ that may be defending against true intimacy. He notes this is the second time the man has asked the same question, encouraging him to go for deeper authenticity rather than seeking surface-level affirmation.

A man shares feeling that this retreat was their best experience, describing a beautiful moment of contentment and appreciating the community as a ‘museum’ of beautiful works of art. Rupert agrees this has been the best retreat, emphasising that the teaching emerges through the interaction between all participants, not from a prepared syllabus. He acknowledges the community’s love of truth and openness creates a living teaching that continuously evolves rather than becoming formulaic.

A man asks, when is it appropriate to stop relying on therapists and become self-sustained? Rupert advises continuing with therapy as long as the question arises, noting that therapeutic models increasingly incorporate non-dual understanding. He confirms that major life decisions should come from one’s deepest place rather than being influenced by insecurity, fear or anxiety, especially regarding significant changes like moving or relationships.

A man describes a pattern of shutting down emotionally when facing overwhelming situations, often triggered by seemingly insignificant events. Rupert identifies this as a primitive fight-or-flight mechanism, likely originating from childhood coping mechanisms. He explains that awareness of this pattern means the man has already begun standing back from it, enabling a new response. The pattern need not take years to dissolve; once seen clearly, the man can remain open despite feeling the impulse to contract.

A man shares that after his mother’s passing, she returned as ‘pure presence’ – the essence of mother beyond individual characteristics. Rupert affirms this understanding, noting that while the person seemed to pass away, who she truly is remained as presence. He connects this to the love experienced during the retreat, describing love as ‘literally the shining of God’s being in our relationships’, explaining why the week has been ‘suffused with love’.

A man describes the retreat as both a temple and a laboratory of subjective science – a vacuum chamber where separate self isn’t present, allowing for experimentation and experiencing synchronicity. Rupert appreciates this dual description, agreeing it functions as both a temple for divine worship and a scientific laboratory conducting ‘the highest science’ – exploring the nature of knowing with which all knowledge and experience are known.

A woman shares how, after five years of continuous letting go, she initially resisted attending the retreat but found it served as the ‘boulder in the river’ Rupert had described – something she had smashed into that ultimately dissolved and wrapped around her. Despite wanting to socialise and connect with others, the woman found herself guided to ‘just be’ instead, receiving exactly what was needed through allowing this quieter experience rather than participating in the usual way.

A 76-year-old man shares how being with Rupert has helped open his heart again after it had been broken at age 8 when his mother was taken to a sanitarium. The man expresses gratitude for the healing experienced through ‘looking for love in the right place’, describing how happiness has returned, bringing a childlike feeling despite physical age. The man feels redeemed and recovered through this process of heart opening.

A woman describes telling her partner about experiencing unconditional love from 134 people, then asks Rupert how he doesn’t weep every day. Rupert admits he often does weep internally, sometimes from overflow of love and joy, other times from heartbreak at world events. The woman connects this to feeling crushed when understanding shared humanity even with figures like Saddam Hussein, expressing gratitude for what Rupert brings to the world.

A woman, continuing an earlier conversation about her son, describes his conflicted response to love – wanting it but experiencing her expression as smothering. Rupert suggests that while some mothers need to be more demonstrative, in her case, stepping back would be more loving – giving her son space to define himself separately. He explains her son’s resistance as part of an established dance, warning that changing this pattern will initially provoke resistance as it threatens his familiar self-definition.