Knowing Is the Only Substance Ever Known

A man, raised Catholic, describes childhood prayers of gratitude and questions to whom one should express thanks if we aren’t separate from God. Rupert explains that God cannot be sliced up like pizza; we are not parts of God but God’s infinite being itself. He clarifies that from the absolute perspective, there is just infinite indivisible being, but from the relative perspective of the finite mind, gratitude remains one of the highest states – placing the finite mind in proper relationship to the infinite through surrender, adoration and devotion.

A woman enquires about the process of integrating one’s true nature after recognition, noting psychological work and nervous system regulation have made remembering easier. Rupert affirms that everyone present has already recognised their true nature – it’s behind us, not ahead of us – but old patterns still run on outdated programming. He describes therapy as potentially helpful both in returning to true nature when blocked and in upgrading one’s operating system to align with the new paradigm of unity.

A man describes growing up in a home where feelings were suppressed, developing automatic resistance to emotions despite understanding they should be allowed to pass through. During meditation, he experiences a calm, low-frequency buzzing sensation and questions whether resting as awareness will dissolve childhood suppression mechanisms. Rupert acknowledges these patterns have deep roots, explaining the ultimate remedy is recognising one’s true nature as aware openness that cannot be diminished, though more active approaches may help coax repressed emotions from their hiding places.

A woman references a previous talk about loving both victims and perpetrators. Rupert explains that evil is not a separate force but ‘love concealed’ – behaviour arising when we forget shared being. He describes criminals’ actions as stemming from their conditioning and failure to recognise shared being with victims. Rupert emphasises our ‘sacred duty’ to love everyone unconditionally, including politicians and criminals, because without this understanding we perpetuate the same divisive patterns that create suffering.

A woman, whose mother is dying, questions whether deep sleep is the ultimate state since it’s changeable like meditative experiences. Rupert uses the analogy of a computer screen that remains unchanged while documents open and close upon it. When the woman struggles to identify what medium deep sleep appears in, Rupert shifts the question: has she ever experienced the absence of awareness? He emphasises that awareness is never witnessed beginning or ending, challenging the cultural presumption that awareness dies with the body.

A man describes responding to unhelpful thoughts by saying ‘I’m not this’ or stepping back into awareness, wondering if this approaches suppression. Rupert suggests a more active engagement: questioning on whose behalf does this thought arise? He explains some thoughts legitimately serve the body or truth-seeking, but thoughts serving the separate self should be investigated by tracing back to their source, discovering their foundation is illusory, thereby dissolving their power.

A psychiatrist, asks about explaining the mind to patients experiencing overwhelming mental states. Rupert defines the mind as the activities of thinking and perceiving, with the ego/separate self being a subset. He advises that when patients feel overwhelmed by their minds, the remedy is giving them a glimpse of their true nature as the space in which the chaotic mind appears, providing relief through that recognition rather than trying to control the mind itself.

A woman enquires about wisdom in relation to our true nature’s qualities of love and compassion. Rupert explains that love is the nature of being, while compassion is love expressed in action. Similarly, intelligence is the formless nature of being, while wisdom is its expression in particular situations. When the woman struggles to describe pure knowing experientially, Rupert affirms this difficulty arises because knowing is formless luminosity – the self-evident, undeniable certainty illuminating all experience.

A woman describes experiencing intense physical shame, even when feeling love for Rupert, and asks how to work with this overwhelming feeling that causes her sense of ‘I am’ to collapse. Rather than suggesting investigation as with Carlo, Rupert offers two specific practices: singing a song at Saturday’s gathering and spending ten minutes each morning looking in the mirror, explicitly acknowledging her beauty until it’s genuinely felt.

A woman, from a yoga tradition, asks about the Sankhya philosophy’s view of two eternal entities (consciousness and matter) versus Vedanta’s view. Rupert leads her to recognise that in direct experience, only knowing is ever encountered – if consciousness were removed from any experience, nothing would remain. He challenges the philosophical abstraction of ‘matter’ as inconsistent with experience, demonstrating that knowing is the only substance ever known.

A woman enquires about ‘the breath inside the breath’ experienced in meditation and relates it to Rupert’s expression ‘the silence inside the silence’. Rupert confirms this isn’t mere poetry but points to consciousness itself – the silent presence behind both sound and its absence. He relates this to the Sufi concept of ‘the extinction of existence and the extinction of that extinction’, explaining these expressions point to that which is prior to and the reality of both experience and its absence.

A woman questions whether truly being in one’s natural state would prevent remembering or knowing about it from the relative state of awareness. Rupert confirms the mind cannot know being directly, comparing it to King Lear being unable to know John Smith. However, consciousness knows itself directly and immediately – it’s self-luminous like the sun knowing itself by its own light. Being aware is not something to remember because it’s always present as our most fundamental experience.

A woman asks about people who have apparent memories of past lives, questioning how these fit within the understanding that there’s no separate self to reincarnate. Rupert compares the mind to a whirlpool in a stream – when the body dies, the coherence of that portion of mind discernible to senses unravels, but its energies continue as ripples. These ripples may later coalesce into a new mind, carrying memories from the previous formation, explaining how someone might access what appear to be past life memories.

A man, raised Catholic, describes childhood prayers of gratitude and questions to whom one should express thanks if we aren’t separate from God. Rupert explains that God cannot be sliced up like pizza; we are not parts of God but God’s infinite being itself. He clarifies that from the absolute perspective, there is just infinite indivisible being, but from the relative perspective of the finite mind, gratitude remains one of the highest states – placing the finite mind in proper relationship to the infinite through surrender, adoration and devotion.

A woman enquires about the process of integrating one’s true nature after recognition, noting psychological work and nervous system regulation have made remembering easier. Rupert affirms that everyone present has already recognised their true nature – it’s behind us, not ahead of us – but old patterns still run on outdated programming. He describes therapy as potentially helpful both in returning to true nature when blocked and in upgrading one’s operating system to align with the new paradigm of unity.

A man describes growing up in a home where feelings were suppressed, developing automatic resistance to emotions despite understanding they should be allowed to pass through. During meditation, he experiences a calm, low-frequency buzzing sensation and questions whether resting as awareness will dissolve childhood suppression mechanisms. Rupert acknowledges these patterns have deep roots, explaining the ultimate remedy is recognising one’s true nature as aware openness that cannot be diminished, though more active approaches may help coax repressed emotions from their hiding places.

A woman references a previous talk about loving both victims and perpetrators. Rupert explains that evil is not a separate force but ‘love concealed’ – behaviour arising when we forget shared being. He describes criminals’ actions as stemming from their conditioning and failure to recognise shared being with victims. Rupert emphasises our ‘sacred duty’ to love everyone unconditionally, including politicians and criminals, because without this understanding we perpetuate the same divisive patterns that create suffering.

A woman, whose mother is dying, questions whether deep sleep is the ultimate state since it’s changeable like meditative experiences. Rupert uses the analogy of a computer screen that remains unchanged while documents open and close upon it. When the woman struggles to identify what medium deep sleep appears in, Rupert shifts the question: has she ever experienced the absence of awareness? He emphasises that awareness is never witnessed beginning or ending, challenging the cultural presumption that awareness dies with the body.

A man describes responding to unhelpful thoughts by saying ‘I’m not this’ or stepping back into awareness, wondering if this approaches suppression. Rupert suggests a more active engagement: questioning on whose behalf does this thought arise? He explains some thoughts legitimately serve the body or truth-seeking, but thoughts serving the separate self should be investigated by tracing back to their source, discovering their foundation is illusory, thereby dissolving their power.

A psychiatrist, asks about explaining the mind to patients experiencing overwhelming mental states. Rupert defines the mind as the activities of thinking and perceiving, with the ego/separate self being a subset. He advises that when patients feel overwhelmed by their minds, the remedy is giving them a glimpse of their true nature as the space in which the chaotic mind appears, providing relief through that recognition rather than trying to control the mind itself.

A woman enquires about wisdom in relation to our true nature’s qualities of love and compassion. Rupert explains that love is the nature of being, while compassion is love expressed in action. Similarly, intelligence is the formless nature of being, while wisdom is its expression in particular situations. When the woman struggles to describe pure knowing experientially, Rupert affirms this difficulty arises because knowing is formless luminosity – the self-evident, undeniable certainty illuminating all experience.

A woman describes experiencing intense physical shame, even when feeling love for Rupert, and asks how to work with this overwhelming feeling that causes her sense of ‘I am’ to collapse. Rather than suggesting investigation as with Carlo, Rupert offers two specific practices: singing a song at Saturday’s gathering and spending ten minutes each morning looking in the mirror, explicitly acknowledging her beauty until it’s genuinely felt.

A woman, from a yoga tradition, asks about the Sankhya philosophy’s view of two eternal entities (consciousness and matter) versus Vedanta’s view. Rupert leads her to recognise that in direct experience, only knowing is ever encountered – if consciousness were removed from any experience, nothing would remain. He challenges the philosophical abstraction of ‘matter’ as inconsistent with experience, demonstrating that knowing is the only substance ever known.

A woman enquires about ‘the breath inside the breath’ experienced in meditation and relates it to Rupert’s expression ‘the silence inside the silence’. Rupert confirms this isn’t mere poetry but points to consciousness itself – the silent presence behind both sound and its absence. He relates this to the Sufi concept of ‘the extinction of existence and the extinction of that extinction’, explaining these expressions point to that which is prior to and the reality of both experience and its absence.

A woman questions whether truly being in one’s natural state would prevent remembering or knowing about it from the relative state of awareness. Rupert confirms the mind cannot know being directly, comparing it to King Lear being unable to know John Smith. However, consciousness knows itself directly and immediately – it’s self-luminous like the sun knowing itself by its own light. Being aware is not something to remember because it’s always present as our most fundamental experience.

A woman asks about people who have apparent memories of past lives, questioning how these fit within the understanding that there’s no separate self to reincarnate. Rupert compares the mind to a whirlpool in a stream – when the body dies, the coherence of that portion of mind discernible to senses unravels, but its energies continue as ripples. These ripples may later coalesce into a new mind, carrying memories from the previous formation, explaining how someone might access what appear to be past life memories.