Don't Stop Short of Peace

A man shares that he has been on a spiritual journey for eight years and feels happier, but finds he cannot surrender completely. Rupert asks him to focus on the ‘I’ that is frustrated, rather than his thoughts or body. The man then asks how to deal with the uncomfortable feelings. Rupert suggests Brother Lawrence’s advice of thanking God for these feelings as they arise.

A woman asks if there’s anything she can do when it feels like she’s going to die or burn up inside, besides loving the experience. Rupert reassures her that this feeling is a good sign because the feeling of dying is the dissolution of a mixture of thoughts and feelings she once believed herself to be. What remains on the other side is the peace of her true nature.

A man shares that he finds himself zoning out during meditation, not quite asleep but sinking down. He wonders if he should do something differently. Rupert responds that drifting off is fine and that the purpose of the meditation is not to listen to what is being said, but rather to go to being and taste the true nature of awareness, which happens in the silences and spaces between words.

A woman who easily accesses her being during meditation finds it challenging when triggered in daily life, resulting in a dissociative response. Rupert suggests that deeply traumatic experiences are not the time for self-enquiry. Instead, one should welcome mildly uncomfortable experiences in order to test the stability of our recognition of true nature and become established in it, noting that if peace is only accessible during meditation, it is a fragile peace.

A man asks if praying for someone who is physically or mentally suffering might ease their pain in any way. Rupert replies that it may help in some way, that praying for someone or holding them in the heart of awareness is a valid thing to do, but it’s probably not enough to relieve them of their sorrow.

A man asks about the role of gratitude in the non-dual approach. Practising gratitude brings him home to himself, yet he struggles with the dualistic language involved. Rupert acknowledges that gratitude is indeed expressed in dualistic terms but suggests we shouldn’t be too concerned. He explains that most great spiritual literature, such as the work of Hafiz, Rumi, and Balyani, is written in dualistic language, and it is a perfectly valid medium to convey these teachings.

A woman asks how to deal with the residues of seeking and resisting that still arise in her experience. Rupert suggests not to worry about them, as they are simply the result of old conditioning. He advises returning to one’s true nature and surrendering these residues to the warm bath of awareness, where they will dissolve naturally in their own time.

A man asks how much time should be dedicated to his inward journey amidst a busy life. Rupert suggests spending as much time on the inward-facing journey as circumstances allow and as one feels inclined. He acknowledges that with a busy work and family life, one might only find twenty minutes in the morning and evening, with brief pauses during the day. Another may have more time for contemplation. There is no definitive answer; it is different for everyone and whatever feels right is appropriate.

A woman shares an experience from the guided meditation earlier that day where she relaxed her mind and listened from her heart. She wonders what ‘I am’ means, not from the intellect but from a deeper place. Rupert replies that everyone can say ‘I am’ because we experience something that enables us to say it. He invites her to contemplate to what experience the words ‘I am’ refer, calling it pure self-enquiry.

A man for whom it is easy to disidentify with feelings and perceptions finds that his thoughts are stickier. Rupert suggests stopping thoughts for five seconds, then extending the time. He asks if the man ceased to be when thinking ceased. If we were identical to thoughts, we would disappear at the end of every word. But we remain ever-present, the same golden thread of being running through our lives.

A woman asks about solipsism. Rupert clarifies that it is the notion that ‘only my mind exists’, and others are just appearances within it, lacking any internal experience. He contrasts this with the understanding that there is only one consciousness, which can localise itself as innumerable finite minds, like an ocean that takes the form of many waves but always remains the one ocean.

A woman shares that her spiritual practices stopped completely, leaving her feeling she has reached a dead end and doing nothing. Rupert asks if she is at peace, and when she says no, he suggests that doing nothing will only keep her in a state of agitation or sorrow. He recommends that she keep exploring what would be the best thing for her to do, urging her to explore who she really is as the fastest and most direct way to peace, and to keep going a little further without stopping short of peace.

A man asks, if infinite consciousness is unchanged by what we do, then what is the point of experiencing? Why does infinite awareness create separate beings to experience its infiniteness if it remains completely unchanged? Rupert explains that infinite consciousness doesn’t localise as our finite minds to know its own infinite nature but rather to experience its potential as the world. It doesn’t need the finite mind to know itself. In fact, through the finite mind, it cannot know itself at all.

A woman shares that she has a brain tumour, leaving her paralysed and causing her to lose her career and independence. She asks how to reframe her situation to suffer less. Rupert acknowledges the difficult sadhana she’s been given and appreciates that her love of truth has not dimmed. He suggests that she understand her true nature cannot be taken away and that her circumstances are an opportunity to deepen her interest in the peace and joy that is always present.

A man asks how we are able to feel places, buildings or landscapes, wondering by what faculty this information is perceived, as it does not seem to come through the five senses. Rupert replies that we feel these through the same capacity we feel love, envy, peace or agitation – through our capacity for feeling. He further explains that it is awareness filtered through varying degrees of separation. With no filter, the feeling is pure love, but when this love is filtered through a degree of separation, it is veiled in proportion to the opacity of the filter.

A woman who has been meditating for many years feels a deepening each time she practises. She wonders how far this deepening can go. Rupert replies that it will go on forever and that there is no reaching a certain stage. He explains that enlightenment does not exist at an infinite distance from oneself, and what she is looking for is not at the finish line but at the starting line. She must go backwards, not forwards, to find it.

A man shares his Christian and Tibetan Buddhist practice, where his teacher’s refuge includes expanse of space, primal awareness and unconfined compassion. He finds the first two similar to Rupert’s teachings and asks how unconfined compassion fits in. Rupert explains that unconfined compassion can be seen as love in action, always directed towards someone or something, part of the outward-facing path. He suggests reformulating the third refuge as expressing unconditional compassion and sharing the fruits of abiding in being indiscriminately in the world.

A man shares that he has been on a spiritual journey for eight years and feels happier, but finds he cannot surrender completely. Rupert asks him to focus on the ‘I’ that is frustrated, rather than his thoughts or body. The man then asks how to deal with the uncomfortable feelings. Rupert suggests Brother Lawrence’s advice of thanking God for these feelings as they arise.

A woman asks if there’s anything she can do when it feels like she’s going to die or burn up inside, besides loving the experience. Rupert reassures her that this feeling is a good sign because the feeling of dying is the dissolution of a mixture of thoughts and feelings she once believed herself to be. What remains on the other side is the peace of her true nature.

A man shares that he finds himself zoning out during meditation, not quite asleep but sinking down. He wonders if he should do something differently. Rupert responds that drifting off is fine and that the purpose of the meditation is not to listen to what is being said, but rather to go to being and taste the true nature of awareness, which happens in the silences and spaces between words.

A woman who easily accesses her being during meditation finds it challenging when triggered in daily life, resulting in a dissociative response. Rupert suggests that deeply traumatic experiences are not the time for self-enquiry. Instead, one should welcome mildly uncomfortable experiences in order to test the stability of our recognition of true nature and become established in it, noting that if peace is only accessible during meditation, it is a fragile peace.

A man asks if praying for someone who is physically or mentally suffering might ease their pain in any way. Rupert replies that it may help in some way, that praying for someone or holding them in the heart of awareness is a valid thing to do, but it’s probably not enough to relieve them of their sorrow.

A man asks about the role of gratitude in the non-dual approach. Practising gratitude brings him home to himself, yet he struggles with the dualistic language involved. Rupert acknowledges that gratitude is indeed expressed in dualistic terms but suggests we shouldn’t be too concerned. He explains that most great spiritual literature, such as the work of Hafiz, Rumi, and Balyani, is written in dualistic language, and it is a perfectly valid medium to convey these teachings.

A woman asks how to deal with the residues of seeking and resisting that still arise in her experience. Rupert suggests not to worry about them, as they are simply the result of old conditioning. He advises returning to one’s true nature and surrendering these residues to the warm bath of awareness, where they will dissolve naturally in their own time.

A man asks how much time should be dedicated to his inward journey amidst a busy life. Rupert suggests spending as much time on the inward-facing journey as circumstances allow and as one feels inclined. He acknowledges that with a busy work and family life, one might only find twenty minutes in the morning and evening, with brief pauses during the day. Another may have more time for contemplation. There is no definitive answer; it is different for everyone and whatever feels right is appropriate.

A woman shares an experience from the guided meditation earlier that day where she relaxed her mind and listened from her heart. She wonders what ‘I am’ means, not from the intellect but from a deeper place. Rupert replies that everyone can say ‘I am’ because we experience something that enables us to say it. He invites her to contemplate to what experience the words ‘I am’ refer, calling it pure self-enquiry.

A man for whom it is easy to disidentify with feelings and perceptions finds that his thoughts are stickier. Rupert suggests stopping thoughts for five seconds, then extending the time. He asks if the man ceased to be when thinking ceased. If we were identical to thoughts, we would disappear at the end of every word. But we remain ever-present, the same golden thread of being running through our lives.

A woman asks about solipsism. Rupert clarifies that it is the notion that ‘only my mind exists’, and others are just appearances within it, lacking any internal experience. He contrasts this with the understanding that there is only one consciousness, which can localise itself as innumerable finite minds, like an ocean that takes the form of many waves but always remains the one ocean.

A woman shares that her spiritual practices stopped completely, leaving her feeling she has reached a dead end and doing nothing. Rupert asks if she is at peace, and when she says no, he suggests that doing nothing will only keep her in a state of agitation or sorrow. He recommends that she keep exploring what would be the best thing for her to do, urging her to explore who she really is as the fastest and most direct way to peace, and to keep going a little further without stopping short of peace.

A man asks, if infinite consciousness is unchanged by what we do, then what is the point of experiencing? Why does infinite awareness create separate beings to experience its infiniteness if it remains completely unchanged? Rupert explains that infinite consciousness doesn’t localise as our finite minds to know its own infinite nature but rather to experience its potential as the world. It doesn’t need the finite mind to know itself. In fact, through the finite mind, it cannot know itself at all.

A woman shares that she has a brain tumour, leaving her paralysed and causing her to lose her career and independence. She asks how to reframe her situation to suffer less. Rupert acknowledges the difficult sadhana she’s been given and appreciates that her love of truth has not dimmed. He suggests that she understand her true nature cannot be taken away and that her circumstances are an opportunity to deepen her interest in the peace and joy that is always present.

A man asks how we are able to feel places, buildings or landscapes, wondering by what faculty this information is perceived, as it does not seem to come through the five senses. Rupert replies that we feel these through the same capacity we feel love, envy, peace or agitation – through our capacity for feeling. He further explains that it is awareness filtered through varying degrees of separation. With no filter, the feeling is pure love, but when this love is filtered through a degree of separation, it is veiled in proportion to the opacity of the filter.

A woman who has been meditating for many years feels a deepening each time she practises. She wonders how far this deepening can go. Rupert replies that it will go on forever and that there is no reaching a certain stage. He explains that enlightenment does not exist at an infinite distance from oneself, and what she is looking for is not at the finish line but at the starting line. She must go backwards, not forwards, to find it.

A man shares his Christian and Tibetan Buddhist practice, where his teacher’s refuge includes expanse of space, primal awareness and unconfined compassion. He finds the first two similar to Rupert’s teachings and asks how unconfined compassion fits in. Rupert explains that unconfined compassion can be seen as love in action, always directed towards someone or something, part of the outward-facing path. He suggests reformulating the third refuge as expressing unconditional compassion and sharing the fruits of abiding in being indiscriminately in the world.