Infinite Being Knows Itself by Itself Directly from the media Don’t Let the World Fall Out of Consciousness

A woman asks about guilt because she didn't make peace with her brother before he died years ago in a car accident. Rupert suggests that if her brother would forgive her, which she said he would, why shouldn't she forgive herself. The feeling of guilt isn't really your brother, it’s how the sense of separation perpetuates itself in you.

Is it enough to abide in 'I am?’ Rupert suggests we not try to understand but abide in 'I am'. That it would be enough, but some people have questions so for them it's not enough. If you have doubts, raise them. For those who love to think, trying to understand is natural. Sooner or later, the mind runs out of objections and questions and finds itself at peace.

A man asks, ‘How can objects be made of awareness?’ Rupert responds that the assumption is that the thought appears only in your mind but that senses, such as sight, appear outside your mind. He sees the metaphor of Mary and Jane to explain that for Jane everything outside appears as matter, whereas everything is actually happening in and made up of Mary's mind. From the point of view of infinite consciousness, objects are the activity of mind, with a capital 'M', which is dreaming the universe within itself.

A woman remarks on Rupert’s comment that everything is consciousness, but not everything is conscious. Rupert suggests that there is a conversation to be had about where we draw a line, but ultimately it is only consciousness that is conscious. The primary mistake is that ‘I’, a human being, has consciousness. In fact, consciousness has a body as one of its attributes.

A man describes his experience when he asked himself 'What never changes?’ and asks, ‘Why do peak experiences happen, such as the experience of oneness?’ Rupert quotes William Blake and explains that some objects have the capacity to relay this truth, such as works of art and music. In this instance, the question triggered the experience that take us directly to our true nature. It is the sense of separation in us that limits this experience and seems to come back with a vengeance. This is the strength and force of habit, which is the only inhibiting factor for these experiences.

A man describes the experience of 'being gone' during meditation and asks if it is a kind of avoidance. Rupert says no, and elaborates that this is an effect of being awake whilst meditating or sleeping, whereby thinking and experiencing ceases. We're in a subliminal state known as pure consciousness, which is outside of time and space.

A man relays a meditation experience with Rupert years ago when Rupert said, ‘don't let the world fall out’, which he experienced as reflections falling out of a mirror, after which meditation has been easier for him. Rupert suggests that’s the power of language, of the irrationality of poetry, which has the power to bring us the understanding from which it originated.

A woman asks if she were to kill someone, is she responsible. Rupert responds we're not personally responsible, but that does not give us license to behave in this way; we should behave responsibly.

A woman says that she finds the analogy of the ocean useful. Rupert agrees and suggests that each of us is a current in that ocean. Ultimately all is made out of the same stuff with no borders. The being of everything, the isness of everything, is this ocean.

A woman asks a question about Schrodinger's cat and how it applies to the non-dual perspective on mind and matter. Rupert suggests that observation doesn't create the thing itself; the thing exists prior to being observed. The finite mind gives the thing its appearance but not its reality. Relationship creates the reality of things.

A man talks about habits having a seductive quality and asks if this is the separate self reassuring itself. Rupert suggests an apparently separate self feels that it is separate, incomplete, with two essential feelings. One is to complete itself, make itself whole. That is its desire for happiness. The other is to protect itself because it is vulnerable. That is fear, resistance.

Where do we draw the line regarding that which is conscious, such as trees and cars? Rupert replies that it is legitimate to draw a line for practical purposes but ultimately there is no difference between a glass and a tree. Our knowledge of consciousness is God's knowledge of Himself.

Do we lose sensation when we go deep in meditation? Rupert helps to answer the question by leading the questioner in self-enquiry and the experiencing of hearing and sensing.

A woman mentions the ocean and water analogy and asks specifically about water. Rupert suggests that rain, tea, tears, wine, ocean, and so on is a modulation of the substance. All metaphors have an explanatory capacity, but all are limited, and none are accurate.

Does it make sense to pray, and to whom do we pray? Rupert speaks of types of prayer. There are those that make a concession to the separate self. At some point, the nature of the separate self must be questioned and all prayer goes inward towards its essential reality, the pure 'I am' revealed as God's being.

A man, referencing personal responsibility in the case of murders, asks, ‘Does one have a choice?’ Rupert suggests that there is still a localisation of thinking and feeling, a current in the ocean, which is not separate but appears to all of us as your body. There are choices, but ultimately there is no independent entity that makes those choices.

A woman asks about guilt because she didn't make peace with her brother before he died years ago in a car accident. Rupert suggests that if her brother would forgive her, which she said he would, why shouldn't she forgive herself. The feeling of guilt isn't really your brother, it’s how the sense of separation perpetuates itself in you.

Is it enough to abide in 'I am?’ Rupert suggests we not try to understand but abide in 'I am'. That it would be enough, but some people have questions so for them it's not enough. If you have doubts, raise them. For those who love to think, trying to understand is natural. Sooner or later, the mind runs out of objections and questions and finds itself at peace.

A man asks, ‘How can objects be made of awareness?’ Rupert responds that the assumption is that the thought appears only in your mind but that senses, such as sight, appear outside your mind. He sees the metaphor of Mary and Jane to explain that for Jane everything outside appears as matter, whereas everything is actually happening in and made up of Mary's mind. From the point of view of infinite consciousness, objects are the activity of mind, with a capital 'M', which is dreaming the universe within itself.

A woman remarks on Rupert’s comment that everything is consciousness, but not everything is conscious. Rupert suggests that there is a conversation to be had about where we draw a line, but ultimately it is only consciousness that is conscious. The primary mistake is that ‘I’, a human being, has consciousness. In fact, consciousness has a body as one of its attributes.

A man describes his experience when he asked himself 'What never changes?’ and asks, ‘Why do peak experiences happen, such as the experience of oneness?’ Rupert quotes William Blake and explains that some objects have the capacity to relay this truth, such as works of art and music. In this instance, the question triggered the experience that take us directly to our true nature. It is the sense of separation in us that limits this experience and seems to come back with a vengeance. This is the strength and force of habit, which is the only inhibiting factor for these experiences.

A man describes the experience of 'being gone' during meditation and asks if it is a kind of avoidance. Rupert says no, and elaborates that this is an effect of being awake whilst meditating or sleeping, whereby thinking and experiencing ceases. We're in a subliminal state known as pure consciousness, which is outside of time and space.

A man relays a meditation experience with Rupert years ago when Rupert said, ‘don't let the world fall out’, which he experienced as reflections falling out of a mirror, after which meditation has been easier for him. Rupert suggests that’s the power of language, of the irrationality of poetry, which has the power to bring us the understanding from which it originated.

A woman asks if she were to kill someone, is she responsible. Rupert responds we're not personally responsible, but that does not give us license to behave in this way; we should behave responsibly.

A woman says that she finds the analogy of the ocean useful. Rupert agrees and suggests that each of us is a current in that ocean. Ultimately all is made out of the same stuff with no borders. The being of everything, the isness of everything, is this ocean.

A woman asks a question about Schrodinger's cat and how it applies to the non-dual perspective on mind and matter. Rupert suggests that observation doesn't create the thing itself; the thing exists prior to being observed. The finite mind gives the thing its appearance but not its reality. Relationship creates the reality of things.

A man talks about habits having a seductive quality and asks if this is the separate self reassuring itself. Rupert suggests an apparently separate self feels that it is separate, incomplete, with two essential feelings. One is to complete itself, make itself whole. That is its desire for happiness. The other is to protect itself because it is vulnerable. That is fear, resistance.

Where do we draw the line regarding that which is conscious, such as trees and cars? Rupert replies that it is legitimate to draw a line for practical purposes but ultimately there is no difference between a glass and a tree. Our knowledge of consciousness is God's knowledge of Himself.

Do we lose sensation when we go deep in meditation? Rupert helps to answer the question by leading the questioner in self-enquiry and the experiencing of hearing and sensing.

A woman mentions the ocean and water analogy and asks specifically about water. Rupert suggests that rain, tea, tears, wine, ocean, and so on is a modulation of the substance. All metaphors have an explanatory capacity, but all are limited, and none are accurate.

Does it make sense to pray, and to whom do we pray? Rupert speaks of types of prayer. There are those that make a concession to the separate self. At some point, the nature of the separate self must be questioned and all prayer goes inward towards its essential reality, the pure 'I am' revealed as God's being.

A man, referencing personal responsibility in the case of murders, asks, ‘Does one have a choice?’ Rupert suggests that there is still a localisation of thinking and feeling, a current in the ocean, which is not separate but appears to all of us as your body. There are choices, but ultimately there is no independent entity that makes those choices.