All Discourses Are a Concession to the Separate Self

A woman says that in the pathless path, it seems to her something is missing, like that which she gets from yoga meditations. Rupert shares that he is still doing yoga meditations, but they're much subtler than they used to be.

A woman recounts how she had been wanting to have lunch with Rupert, and when she finally did, she discovered that he was just human. Rupert speaks of the teacher being the last disappointment, an ordinary person, and he recounts having a similar experience with his teacher, Francis Lucille.

A woman speaks of her tendency to watch silly cat videos and television. Rupert says it's fine to watch TV. If it helps you fall asleep, watch TV.

A question is asked about a still and peaceful cat that has been referenced througout the retreat, in contrast to its likely response to seeing a mouse when the cat is hungry. Rupert says he was careful to mention that the cat had just eaten breakfast. The point being, unless we're hungry, there's no reason to be distracted from one's being. The vast majority of thoughts take us away from our being, but there are thoughts that are necessary.

A woman shares that she works with people in pain and is interested in practices that deal with contractions in the body, like yoga meditations. Rupert clarifies that when he said earlier that it wasn't necessary to purify the body, it was in relation to knowing our true nature. But such practices are valid and useful for the treatment of bodily pain and discomfort.

A man says he is in a kind of twilight zone during the retreat, and words are blending together and don't make sense. Rupert suggests that if you are already established in or getting a taste of your true being, you don't listen to the meditation. The teaching is not addressed to pure being, which doesn't need to be told to find itself. The teaching is always a concession to the separate self we believe ourself to be.

A man enquires about dealing with other egos in the world, about allowing the world to be the world, and about the difference between resignation and surrender. In his reply, Rupert states that resignation can be in service of the ego. But we can interact with the world from a place of love and understanding.

A woman asks about people who have died, and whether their energies can be passed along to other people. Rupert encourages her to think of how many times several people, separated in time and space, have the same ideas. So why not after death? He discusses reincarnation, which he feels is a childish ideas of time and space, neither of which exist.

A woman asks about self-abidance. She wonders if, in the question 'Am I aware?', which is followed by a pause where we know our being, is self-abidance staying in that pause? Rupert suggests that we just keep going back. Experience may take us away because we have been conditioned for decades to pay attention to objects, but we go back, eventually without even having to ask the question.

A man asks if there are any studies, in terms of the habit of being distracted by objects, of how long it might take to break away from the pull of the world. Rupert is not aware of any such studies, and suspects that it would be a difficult study because of the strength of the pull of the world and objects. But going from experience to being is immediate through the question 'What is it that is aware of experience?'. Abiding as that, however, takes time.

A man, referring to the wealth of evidence of near-death experiences, asks if the idea of a mind dissolving at death is a tenable conclusion. Rupert responds that the body falls away, but the mind unravels.

A woman asks about those times when she returns to being and the mind falls silent, and those times when mind continues to chatter. Rupert asks if she is forcibly forcing her thoughts, and is it problematic if the thoughts continue? Thoughts may continue but they almost always quiet down. Those thoughts that previously arose with the sole purpose was to take you away from being will die down inevitably without effort. He suggests asking, 'What is it that is aware of these thoughts?'

A man asks for clarity on beingness, and further about dealing with pain, which he finally stopped fighting with. Does beingness care that we're in pain? He says he accepted the pain, and when he leans into being the pain goes with him. He asks if the physical sensation reduces as the mind activity reduces. Rupert responds not necessarily. If resistance is adding to that pain, then that will diminish, but there may be other reasons the body is in pain. Being doesn't care, but it is legitimate for the mind to care about the pain.

A question is asked about glimpsing versus abiding as awareness: without practicing, is there anything to do? Rupert encourages the questioner to go back to your being, and if necessary, make a practice out of doing so. He uses the example of being depressed, which means your being is clouded by experience. If you separate depression from being, depression can be seen as not what you are but what you're feeling.

A question is asked about emotional suffering and the difference from physical pain. Rupert responds that emotional suffering is in the mind, but you can have physical pain because you are experiencing a body. Pain causes us to care for the body. There is fear that arises on behalf of the body and fear that arises for the separate self.

A woman asks about memories, thoughts and passage of thought which comes up when working on her art. Rupert asks if she can remain established as being during this conversation, and she answers 'yes'. He says it is the same when memories arise during meditation or prayer, we remain established. If the conversation itself is completely transparent to being then there is no competition for attention.

A man asks about the relationship between higher dimensions, or higher-dimensional beings, and the three states – waking, dreaming and deep sleep. Rupert responds that, in deep sleep, there is no thought or perception and therefore no time and space, but there is awareness of being. There could be other kinds of minds, besides ours, of four dimensions. Consider, perhaps, a space alien with a mind of six dimensions – the same time-and-space reality that appears to us would appear to that mind as time, space and two other dimensions. Our reality would likewise be different for a mind that does not think or perceive; it would probably be impossible for us to imagine.

A question is asked about the dimensions of time and space and the validity of mathematics. Rupert mentions the movie Wings of Desire, in which angels are visible to the audience, but the characters in the movie cannot see them because their perceiving capacity is too limited. So they don't realise that they are being helped and instead attribute what is happening to them to other factors. Rupert also suggests that the function of art is to point to what is beyond perception.

A woman says she has spent her whole life afraid of life, but has never had a fear of death until someone said that no fear of death is the fear of life. This caused her to realise how much she loved life and everyone and Rupert. So she just wants to thank everyone and Rupert. Rupert thanks her for her beautiful comments.

A man says he wants to give Rupert a gift of a moment of silence, and the room falls silent. Then he asks about frequency of mind, being, emotions and thoughts. Rupert speaks of the logos in the Christian tradition, which are like frequencies in the Kashmir and Christian traditions. In Hinduism, there are the vibrations of the water of being, which is another equivalent.

A woman asks about the perceptions of someone who was diagnosed with schizophrenia. Rupert responds that it would still be within the framework of the human mind. There might be other frames of perception, but they would still be of a world of time and space. Rupert refers back to an earlier conversation on aliens, and he quotes William Blake regarding the body.

A woman says that in the pathless path, it seems to her something is missing, like that which she gets from yoga meditations. Rupert shares that he is still doing yoga meditations, but they're much subtler than they used to be.

A woman recounts how she had been wanting to have lunch with Rupert, and when she finally did, she discovered that he was just human. Rupert speaks of the teacher being the last disappointment, an ordinary person, and he recounts having a similar experience with his teacher, Francis Lucille.

A woman speaks of her tendency to watch silly cat videos and television. Rupert says it's fine to watch TV. If it helps you fall asleep, watch TV.

A question is asked about a still and peaceful cat that has been referenced througout the retreat, in contrast to its likely response to seeing a mouse when the cat is hungry. Rupert says he was careful to mention that the cat had just eaten breakfast. The point being, unless we're hungry, there's no reason to be distracted from one's being. The vast majority of thoughts take us away from our being, but there are thoughts that are necessary.

A woman shares that she works with people in pain and is interested in practices that deal with contractions in the body, like yoga meditations. Rupert clarifies that when he said earlier that it wasn't necessary to purify the body, it was in relation to knowing our true nature. But such practices are valid and useful for the treatment of bodily pain and discomfort.

A man says he is in a kind of twilight zone during the retreat, and words are blending together and don't make sense. Rupert suggests that if you are already established in or getting a taste of your true being, you don't listen to the meditation. The teaching is not addressed to pure being, which doesn't need to be told to find itself. The teaching is always a concession to the separate self we believe ourself to be.

A man enquires about dealing with other egos in the world, about allowing the world to be the world, and about the difference between resignation and surrender. In his reply, Rupert states that resignation can be in service of the ego. But we can interact with the world from a place of love and understanding.

A woman asks about people who have died, and whether their energies can be passed along to other people. Rupert encourages her to think of how many times several people, separated in time and space, have the same ideas. So why not after death? He discusses reincarnation, which he feels is a childish ideas of time and space, neither of which exist.

A woman asks about self-abidance. She wonders if, in the question 'Am I aware?', which is followed by a pause where we know our being, is self-abidance staying in that pause? Rupert suggests that we just keep going back. Experience may take us away because we have been conditioned for decades to pay attention to objects, but we go back, eventually without even having to ask the question.

A man asks if there are any studies, in terms of the habit of being distracted by objects, of how long it might take to break away from the pull of the world. Rupert is not aware of any such studies, and suspects that it would be a difficult study because of the strength of the pull of the world and objects. But going from experience to being is immediate through the question 'What is it that is aware of experience?'. Abiding as that, however, takes time.

A man, referring to the wealth of evidence of near-death experiences, asks if the idea of a mind dissolving at death is a tenable conclusion. Rupert responds that the body falls away, but the mind unravels.

A woman asks about those times when she returns to being and the mind falls silent, and those times when mind continues to chatter. Rupert asks if she is forcibly forcing her thoughts, and is it problematic if the thoughts continue? Thoughts may continue but they almost always quiet down. Those thoughts that previously arose with the sole purpose was to take you away from being will die down inevitably without effort. He suggests asking, 'What is it that is aware of these thoughts?'

A man asks for clarity on beingness, and further about dealing with pain, which he finally stopped fighting with. Does beingness care that we're in pain? He says he accepted the pain, and when he leans into being the pain goes with him. He asks if the physical sensation reduces as the mind activity reduces. Rupert responds not necessarily. If resistance is adding to that pain, then that will diminish, but there may be other reasons the body is in pain. Being doesn't care, but it is legitimate for the mind to care about the pain.

A question is asked about glimpsing versus abiding as awareness: without practicing, is there anything to do? Rupert encourages the questioner to go back to your being, and if necessary, make a practice out of doing so. He uses the example of being depressed, which means your being is clouded by experience. If you separate depression from being, depression can be seen as not what you are but what you're feeling.

A question is asked about emotional suffering and the difference from physical pain. Rupert responds that emotional suffering is in the mind, but you can have physical pain because you are experiencing a body. Pain causes us to care for the body. There is fear that arises on behalf of the body and fear that arises for the separate self.

A woman asks about memories, thoughts and passage of thought which comes up when working on her art. Rupert asks if she can remain established as being during this conversation, and she answers 'yes'. He says it is the same when memories arise during meditation or prayer, we remain established. If the conversation itself is completely transparent to being then there is no competition for attention.

A man asks about the relationship between higher dimensions, or higher-dimensional beings, and the three states – waking, dreaming and deep sleep. Rupert responds that, in deep sleep, there is no thought or perception and therefore no time and space, but there is awareness of being. There could be other kinds of minds, besides ours, of four dimensions. Consider, perhaps, a space alien with a mind of six dimensions – the same time-and-space reality that appears to us would appear to that mind as time, space and two other dimensions. Our reality would likewise be different for a mind that does not think or perceive; it would probably be impossible for us to imagine.

A question is asked about the dimensions of time and space and the validity of mathematics. Rupert mentions the movie Wings of Desire, in which angels are visible to the audience, but the characters in the movie cannot see them because their perceiving capacity is too limited. So they don't realise that they are being helped and instead attribute what is happening to them to other factors. Rupert also suggests that the function of art is to point to what is beyond perception.

A woman says she has spent her whole life afraid of life, but has never had a fear of death until someone said that no fear of death is the fear of life. This caused her to realise how much she loved life and everyone and Rupert. So she just wants to thank everyone and Rupert. Rupert thanks her for her beautiful comments.

A man says he wants to give Rupert a gift of a moment of silence, and the room falls silent. Then he asks about frequency of mind, being, emotions and thoughts. Rupert speaks of the logos in the Christian tradition, which are like frequencies in the Kashmir and Christian traditions. In Hinduism, there are the vibrations of the water of being, which is another equivalent.

A woman asks about the perceptions of someone who was diagnosed with schizophrenia. Rupert responds that it would still be within the framework of the human mind. There might be other frames of perception, but they would still be of a world of time and space. Rupert refers back to an earlier conversation on aliens, and he quotes William Blake regarding the body.