Stillness, Peace and True Nature

Why is there a resistance to mental exercises for coming back to true nature, yet an immediate resonance when hearing direct descriptions of reality, awareness and consciousness? Rupert says: ‘The experiments I suggest are for those who feel “I’m agitated, I’m upset, my feelings are hurt” and can’t access the understanding directly. I want to give you tools to find out for yourself whether awareness is inherently peaceful. If that’s already your experience, if it’s self-evident to you, then you don’t need to perform the experiments. You can just go straight there. You may resist these experiments because you’ve already done them in the past, or it’s just self-evident to you. Just turn the volume down in your mind when I’m elaborating those experiments, and rest in your being until some new aspect comes up.’

Could physical relaxation help one come back to true nature? Rupert says: ‘Physical relaxation could be a prelude to that, a preparation for coming back to your true nature. If you are very agitated physically, your attention is going to be absorbed in your body and sensations. If you relax physically, that could be a prelude to going back to your true nature. But it’s not by itself enough, and it’s not a requirement. When you’re physically active, some of your attention is required to pay attention to the world. Sitting here makes it easier – it’s quiet, there are no phones, the world is not calling our attention. It’s good to try it in these benign, peaceful circumstances first, but then test it in more challenging situations too.’

When difficult emotions like sorrow, despair or fear appear without thought narratives, why does awareness meeting these sensations result in a feeling of peace meeting peace? Rupert says: ‘If awareness is inherently peaceful, then everything that arises in awareness must be made of awareness. If awareness is inherently peaceful, then everything that arises in awareness must be made of peace. Even sorrow, shame, guilt, fear – the stuff out of which it is made must itself be pure peace. If you go into the heart of any emotion, instead of moving away from it or repressing it – if you go deeply into any emotion, however painful it is, at its heart, you’ll find peace or joy.’

How should one work with a persistent, intense emotion that remains present even during meditation and seems to act as a veil on awareness? Rupert says: ‘I would recommend the tantric approach, not turning away from it but understanding that emotion arises in awareness like a cloud arising in the sky. It’s like a mist that seems to pervade the entire sky, almost synonymous with the sky – but it’s not, because by midday, the mist has burnt off and the empty sky remains. Feel that emotion arises in awareness, is known by awareness, and is made of awareness. Your emotions arise from within awareness and are made only of awareness. By resisting an emotion, you perpetuate it. You don’t resist it because it’s unpleasant – it’s unpleasant because you resist it.’

How can words and thinking assist in accessing deeper awareness when they supposedly belong to a different realm from awareness itself? Rupert says: ‘I sometimes use words in a descriptive way, and other times more evocatively – when I say something and you don’t think about it, you just go “yes” – my words take you to the experience directly. The finite mind is awareness plus the content of experience. What remains when the movie comes to an end? The screen. The screen is not an object in the movie. We use the mind to undo the mind, to investigate the mind. The mind brings itself to its own ending. But there is a gap that the mind can’t cross. In our rational culture, we can use our faculties of reason to investigate the nature of reality instead of just relying on stories and parables.’

Could inherent peace also be experienced as stillness or deep silence? Rupert says: ‘Yes. But not a stillness that is a state of the mind. It’s the stillness that lies behind both the activity of the mind and the stillness of the mind. It’s not just the absence of content, it’s the absence of that absence. It’s not just the screensaver, it’s the screen behind the screensaver that’s present both when you’re looking at your screensaver and when you are watching your YouTube clips. It’s the stillness behind the stillness, the silence behind the silence – a living, aware stillness.’

How can reincarnation be reconciled with the non-dual understanding that there is only one consciousness? Rupert says: ‘Take the image of the ocean to represent infinite consciousness. On the surface, waves develop – numerous waves, although it’s only one ocean. Each wave has a particular name and form. When the wave subsides, the name and form vanishes, but the energies are dispersed in the ocean. When a new wave forms, some of those residual ripples from the previous wave may be incorporated in the new wave, conditioning it. But no new water has come into existence – nothing new has appeared, no new entity has been born. It’s just a new name and form of the ever-present ocean. This allows for holding onto the idea of reincarnation while also subscribing to this understanding.’

Why does resting in peace feel so different at different times – sometimes like silent elation, sometimes as embracing pain, and sometimes while engaged in thought? Rupert says: ‘Let’s use the analogy of the ocean. The surface represents our agitated thoughts, a little deeper are the currents of our turbulent feelings, and deeper still is the stillness. When we’re resting in being, we start as a particle of water tumbled in a wave. As we sink, we leave behind the turbulence. Ten meters down, there are still currents – the deep, pervasive emotions we carry. As you sink deeper, you leave the agitation behind. What you’re describing is sinking to different depths in your meditations – sometimes just below the surface, sometimes to where your everyday problems leave you but existential sorrow remains, and sometimes deeper where you taste the real peace of your true nature.’

What am I surrendering to when following intuition that leads to synchronicities and meaningful encounters? Rupert says: ‘Intuition is still your finite mind, not pure consciousness, but it’s that region of your mind not accessible during normal waking state conditions. As you move from the bounded parameters of the waking state toward pure consciousness, you begin to lose your limitations. Imagine circles representing finite minds, with fainter circles outside representing parts of the mind not available in the waking state – these paler circles begin to overlap. The waking state is where our sense of separation is most defined. As you move into regions outside it, separation loosens, allowing for synchronistic events. Time and space as we know them only exist in the waking state – they’re just how reality appears to a human mind, and begin to lose their grip as you venture toward the edge of your finite mind.’

Why does creativity sometimes flow freely and other times feel completely blank, and how does this relate to being in touch with true being? Rupert says: ‘Creativity is the natural expression of the freedom that is the nature of consciousness. A mind in touch with its essence is informed by this freedom and is therefore creative. A mind impervious to its essence is informed by its past content and just perpetuates the past – that’s not creativity. If the mind operates on the horizontal line of time, creativity is a vertical intervention of pure consciousness bringing something new. A creative mind is open to this vertical intervention. Creativity comes from being open to the unknown, because everything on the line of time is the known. A mind that only refers to the known can only perpetuate it, even if reformulated. Surrendering your mind to awareness in meditation is one way to cultivate this openness.’

When seeing the world as merely sense perceptions without meanings, why does the feeling that there is no actual person or self create such desperation? Rupert says: ‘The sense of being a separate person feels threatened because it feels it’s going to die – there’s no place for it. When it comes back after the experience, it feels upset because it thinks, “I don’t like what happened because I wasn’t present to claim it.” The old separate self should feel threatened by what we do here. King Lear hears about what we speak of and gets excited, thinking “I would love that experience.” But at the threshold, he realises “I, King Lear, cannot have the experience of being John Smith (the actor who is playing the role of Lear). I must subside for that experience to be revealed.” Then he thinks, “Maybe I don’t want it after all.” This is the dance you’re doing now. Tell the real Tina not to worry – who she really is will survive. All that won’t survive is who she never really was.’

Why is there a resistance to mental exercises for coming back to true nature, yet an immediate resonance when hearing direct descriptions of reality, awareness and consciousness? Rupert says: ‘The experiments I suggest are for those who feel “I’m agitated, I’m upset, my feelings are hurt” and can’t access the understanding directly. I want to give you tools to find out for yourself whether awareness is inherently peaceful. If that’s already your experience, if it’s self-evident to you, then you don’t need to perform the experiments. You can just go straight there. You may resist these experiments because you’ve already done them in the past, or it’s just self-evident to you. Just turn the volume down in your mind when I’m elaborating those experiments, and rest in your being until some new aspect comes up.’

Could physical relaxation help one come back to true nature? Rupert says: ‘Physical relaxation could be a prelude to that, a preparation for coming back to your true nature. If you are very agitated physically, your attention is going to be absorbed in your body and sensations. If you relax physically, that could be a prelude to going back to your true nature. But it’s not by itself enough, and it’s not a requirement. When you’re physically active, some of your attention is required to pay attention to the world. Sitting here makes it easier – it’s quiet, there are no phones, the world is not calling our attention. It’s good to try it in these benign, peaceful circumstances first, but then test it in more challenging situations too.’

When difficult emotions like sorrow, despair or fear appear without thought narratives, why does awareness meeting these sensations result in a feeling of peace meeting peace? Rupert says: ‘If awareness is inherently peaceful, then everything that arises in awareness must be made of awareness. If awareness is inherently peaceful, then everything that arises in awareness must be made of peace. Even sorrow, shame, guilt, fear – the stuff out of which it is made must itself be pure peace. If you go into the heart of any emotion, instead of moving away from it or repressing it – if you go deeply into any emotion, however painful it is, at its heart, you’ll find peace or joy.’

How should one work with a persistent, intense emotion that remains present even during meditation and seems to act as a veil on awareness? Rupert says: ‘I would recommend the tantric approach, not turning away from it but understanding that emotion arises in awareness like a cloud arising in the sky. It’s like a mist that seems to pervade the entire sky, almost synonymous with the sky – but it’s not, because by midday, the mist has burnt off and the empty sky remains. Feel that emotion arises in awareness, is known by awareness, and is made of awareness. Your emotions arise from within awareness and are made only of awareness. By resisting an emotion, you perpetuate it. You don’t resist it because it’s unpleasant – it’s unpleasant because you resist it.’

How can words and thinking assist in accessing deeper awareness when they supposedly belong to a different realm from awareness itself? Rupert says: ‘I sometimes use words in a descriptive way, and other times more evocatively – when I say something and you don’t think about it, you just go “yes” – my words take you to the experience directly. The finite mind is awareness plus the content of experience. What remains when the movie comes to an end? The screen. The screen is not an object in the movie. We use the mind to undo the mind, to investigate the mind. The mind brings itself to its own ending. But there is a gap that the mind can’t cross. In our rational culture, we can use our faculties of reason to investigate the nature of reality instead of just relying on stories and parables.’

Could inherent peace also be experienced as stillness or deep silence? Rupert says: ‘Yes. But not a stillness that is a state of the mind. It’s the stillness that lies behind both the activity of the mind and the stillness of the mind. It’s not just the absence of content, it’s the absence of that absence. It’s not just the screensaver, it’s the screen behind the screensaver that’s present both when you’re looking at your screensaver and when you are watching your YouTube clips. It’s the stillness behind the stillness, the silence behind the silence – a living, aware stillness.’

How can reincarnation be reconciled with the non-dual understanding that there is only one consciousness? Rupert says: ‘Take the image of the ocean to represent infinite consciousness. On the surface, waves develop – numerous waves, although it’s only one ocean. Each wave has a particular name and form. When the wave subsides, the name and form vanishes, but the energies are dispersed in the ocean. When a new wave forms, some of those residual ripples from the previous wave may be incorporated in the new wave, conditioning it. But no new water has come into existence – nothing new has appeared, no new entity has been born. It’s just a new name and form of the ever-present ocean. This allows for holding onto the idea of reincarnation while also subscribing to this understanding.’

Why does resting in peace feel so different at different times – sometimes like silent elation, sometimes as embracing pain, and sometimes while engaged in thought? Rupert says: ‘Let’s use the analogy of the ocean. The surface represents our agitated thoughts, a little deeper are the currents of our turbulent feelings, and deeper still is the stillness. When we’re resting in being, we start as a particle of water tumbled in a wave. As we sink, we leave behind the turbulence. Ten meters down, there are still currents – the deep, pervasive emotions we carry. As you sink deeper, you leave the agitation behind. What you’re describing is sinking to different depths in your meditations – sometimes just below the surface, sometimes to where your everyday problems leave you but existential sorrow remains, and sometimes deeper where you taste the real peace of your true nature.’

What am I surrendering to when following intuition that leads to synchronicities and meaningful encounters? Rupert says: ‘Intuition is still your finite mind, not pure consciousness, but it’s that region of your mind not accessible during normal waking state conditions. As you move from the bounded parameters of the waking state toward pure consciousness, you begin to lose your limitations. Imagine circles representing finite minds, with fainter circles outside representing parts of the mind not available in the waking state – these paler circles begin to overlap. The waking state is where our sense of separation is most defined. As you move into regions outside it, separation loosens, allowing for synchronistic events. Time and space as we know them only exist in the waking state – they’re just how reality appears to a human mind, and begin to lose their grip as you venture toward the edge of your finite mind.’

Why does creativity sometimes flow freely and other times feel completely blank, and how does this relate to being in touch with true being? Rupert says: ‘Creativity is the natural expression of the freedom that is the nature of consciousness. A mind in touch with its essence is informed by this freedom and is therefore creative. A mind impervious to its essence is informed by its past content and just perpetuates the past – that’s not creativity. If the mind operates on the horizontal line of time, creativity is a vertical intervention of pure consciousness bringing something new. A creative mind is open to this vertical intervention. Creativity comes from being open to the unknown, because everything on the line of time is the known. A mind that only refers to the known can only perpetuate it, even if reformulated. Surrendering your mind to awareness in meditation is one way to cultivate this openness.’

When seeing the world as merely sense perceptions without meanings, why does the feeling that there is no actual person or self create such desperation? Rupert says: ‘The sense of being a separate person feels threatened because it feels it’s going to die – there’s no place for it. When it comes back after the experience, it feels upset because it thinks, “I don’t like what happened because I wasn’t present to claim it.” The old separate self should feel threatened by what we do here. King Lear hears about what we speak of and gets excited, thinking “I would love that experience.” But at the threshold, he realises “I, King Lear, cannot have the experience of being John Smith (the actor who is playing the role of Lear). I must subside for that experience to be revealed.” Then he thinks, “Maybe I don’t want it after all.” This is the dance you’re doing now. Tell the real Tina not to worry – who she really is will survive. All that won’t survive is who she never really was.’