I Am Always Me, Poem for a Child from the media The Silence Which Beckons Us Into Itself
A man asks for insight into parenting in the face of world suffering, and how to integrate this understanding with the inevitable encounter with this suffering. Rupert offers a children's poem that he wrote.
- Duration: 2 minutes and 43 seconds
- Recorded on: Oct 31, 2021
- Event: Seven Day Retreat at Mercy Center, CA - October 2021
Meister Eckhart said there is an immense silence which beckons us into itself. At first, we think it is we who approach this silence; in reality, it is this silence that draws us into itself. In the beginning, we get brief tastes of it and its inherent peace, and, in time, as we become more acquainted with it, we begin to fall in love with it. We make it our home. The more deeply we sink into it, the more it reveals its quality of peace and quiet joy. When we meet another person, we may notice this same silence in them. This shared silence then becomes the foundation and the fountain of our friendship, and this is the way these qualities are communicated and shared in the world.
A woman whose aunt just died wonders if anything can be done to help someone after death. Rupert suggests that the best help we can offer is, as in life, to know them as the innocent, loving, inherently peaceful presence that they are. This is the greatest gift we can give anyone, in life or in death.
A man shares two words for reflection: apperceive and limitless. Rupert responds with his understanding of these words and suggests that while all words are limited symbols, some words – like being, God, self, I, peace, joy – refer to that which is not limited.
A question is asked about the phrase 'Understand, but most importantly feel'. Rupert explains this as a way of saying that this understanding is not solely an activity, or idea, in the mind, but that it must be brought into our self as a felt sense in the body.
A man shares an experience he had during a yoga mediation and asks for help in understanding it. Rupert suggests that the reality of the world is independent of our minds, but the appearance of that reality as the world depends on the configuration of our minds.
A woman asks about language for this understanding, which seems to require a different one. Rupert asks us to imagine infinite consciousness shuddering within itself, giving form to itself – the primal sound – which is the origin of language, which we use skilfully to trace our way back.
A man asks for insight into parenting in the face of world suffering, and how to integrate this understanding with the inevitable encounter with this suffering. Rupert offers a children's poem that he wrote.
As a man, who is an international pilot, prepares to leave the retreat, he asks for non-dual decision-making support because he doesn't know how to make decisions anymore. Rupert suggests that when a decision is required, make choices that tend toward and facilitate the quality of friendship found in retreat. Friendship is an invisible conveyor of this understanding.
An introverted man asks Rupert how sharing this understanding with the world has affected his character. Rupert responds, ‘Don’t be misled by my reserved character. That is just the veneer of my English conditioning. Inside my heart is completely on fire. I love people. I love the world.’
Rupert expresses gratitude for the team that is involved in the production of these retreats, and speaks to the retreat participants of the time to part without parting. He notes how contented the crow sounds this morning, and reminds that 'My love is always with you'.
Meister Eckhart said there is an immense silence which beckons us into itself. At first, we think it is we who approach this silence; in reality, it is this silence that draws us into itself. In the beginning, we get brief tastes of it and its inherent peace, and, in time, as we become more acquainted with it, we begin to fall in love with it. We make it our home. The more deeply we sink into it, the more it reveals its quality of peace and quiet joy. When we meet another person, we may notice this same silence in them. This shared silence then becomes the foundation and the fountain of our friendship, and this is the way these qualities are communicated and shared in the world.
A woman whose aunt just died wonders if anything can be done to help someone after death. Rupert suggests that the best help we can offer is, as in life, to know them as the innocent, loving, inherently peaceful presence that they are. This is the greatest gift we can give anyone, in life or in death.
A man shares two words for reflection: apperceive and limitless. Rupert responds with his understanding of these words and suggests that while all words are limited symbols, some words – like being, God, self, I, peace, joy – refer to that which is not limited.
A question is asked about the phrase 'Understand, but most importantly feel'. Rupert explains this as a way of saying that this understanding is not solely an activity, or idea, in the mind, but that it must be brought into our self as a felt sense in the body.
A man shares an experience he had during a yoga mediation and asks for help in understanding it. Rupert suggests that the reality of the world is independent of our minds, but the appearance of that reality as the world depends on the configuration of our minds.
A woman asks about language for this understanding, which seems to require a different one. Rupert asks us to imagine infinite consciousness shuddering within itself, giving form to itself – the primal sound – which is the origin of language, which we use skilfully to trace our way back.
A man asks for insight into parenting in the face of world suffering, and how to integrate this understanding with the inevitable encounter with this suffering. Rupert offers a children's poem that he wrote.
As a man, who is an international pilot, prepares to leave the retreat, he asks for non-dual decision-making support because he doesn't know how to make decisions anymore. Rupert suggests that when a decision is required, make choices that tend toward and facilitate the quality of friendship found in retreat. Friendship is an invisible conveyor of this understanding.
An introverted man asks Rupert how sharing this understanding with the world has affected his character. Rupert responds, ‘Don’t be misled by my reserved character. That is just the veneer of my English conditioning. Inside my heart is completely on fire. I love people. I love the world.’
Rupert expresses gratitude for the team that is involved in the production of these retreats, and speaks to the retreat participants of the time to part without parting. He notes how contented the crow sounds this morning, and reminds that 'My love is always with you'.