This Is The Age of The Pathless Path

A man wonders about Rupert’s source of wisdom. Rupert replies that recognition of our true nature, is universal; however, the way this understanding is communicated varies depending on the time, place, and the individual mind expressing it. Rupert mentions that over the last forty-eight years he has not only explored his true nature but also extensively read and studied within the Vedantic, Sufi, Kashmir Shaivite and early Christian traditions. Now, having spoken about non-duality for fifteen years, he observes that his language has become more refined, akin to how his pottery work developed over time.

A woman asks what it really means to see, and what Rupert perceives when he looks at all of his friends. Rupert says that he sees 120 beautiful beings, who are actually all the same being as he is, and he feels this shared being as love for all. He observes the same light and world as everyone else. The illusion remains; the misunderstanding fades away. When you are watching a movie, you are totally absorbed in the scene, and then suddenly you remember it is just a movie. The movie doesn’t disappear; the illusion of the landscape remains, but now when you look at the landscape in the movie, you understand that what you actually see is the screen.

A man asks about the reason for human experience, wondering if awareness uses experience to collect data. Rupert answers that the mind is continuously collecting data, but awareness knows nothing other than itself. It knows nothing, but it is what the mind calls everything. For the mind, there is only everything; for consciousness, there is no nothing, something or everything.

A man from a Tibetan Buddhist background wonders whether people are prepared for such a direct approach or if they might falter without a conventional, step-by-step path. Rupert responds that he believes we are in the age of the Direct or even Pathless Path. He doesn’t see it necessary for students to engage in a progressive path before their body-minds are sufficiently purified to understand this method.

A woman asks Rupert what he plans to do when his teachings gain major attention, such as from Oprah. Rupert acknowledges that he’s torn. While online teachings can expand exponentially, his in-person retreats are the essence of his work. They’re now attracting more attendees, and soon he’ll need to decide whether to limit them to 150 people to maintain a familial atmosphere, despite increasing demand, or expand to 300 or 600 attendees and potentially lose that close-knit feeling.

A man shares his experience of being by the bedside of his dying father and wonders if there is a relationship between awareness and the soul. Rupert answers that ‘soul’ is really an old-fashioned word for ‘the mind’. It implies not only the waking-state mind but also everything that lies below it, such as the content of our dreams. The soul is a localised portion of awareness, each mind or soul being a temporary name and form of infinite consciousness.

A man asks if Rupert sees energy or auras. Rupert says that he sees everyone’s beautiful face and wants to connect with everyone as a friend. He would much rather see everybody’s face than their aura.

A man asks if awareness, in order to know itself, must move away from itself and become localised. Rupert says no, not for awareness to know itself. But he recounts that for awareness to know anything other than itself, it must stand apart from that thing and know it from the localised perspective of a subject of experience. He uses the analogy of Mary, asleep in Burlingame, dreaming that she is Jane on the streets of Paris.

A man seeks confirmation from that his recognition of being the space of awareness is what Rupert is pointing to. Rupert answers that the recognition of our being’s nature carries its own seal of authority and doesn’t require external validation. If the nature of our being is clear, there’s no need for further confirmation.

A man asks if Rupert has even a shadow of doubt anymore or if there is anything that would shake Rupert at this point. Rupert replies that the only thing he is absolutely certain of is the nature of his being; everything else is subject to doubt. The nature of being is so simple and so obvious; being is the only part of experience that cannot be doubted.

A woman, who is often exhausted from twelve-hour shifts in a busy emergency room, asks Rupert how to bring the light of this understanding to her patients and their families. Rupert answers that in such intense situations, she must bring not only her knowledge and experience but also her being. He advises not to let the drama obscure the essence being; remain in touch with it. Since most patients may not be in touch with their being, feeling far from peace, her connection to her own being is crucial. To convey this to them, she should guard the candle in the wind, keeping it alight while continuing her work. By being established in being, it naturally communicates itself, offering real consolation to those in need.

A woman struggles with Rupert’s phrase from the earlier meditation, ‘to fall deeply asleep while remaining wide awake.’ To her, falling asleep means the obliteration of awareness. Rupert replies that when you fall asleep, you’re in bed, relaxed, not making an effort to sleep but letting your experiences go. Your perceptions fade, the world disappears, bodily sensations vanish, and you enter the dream state. Eventually, thoughts and images also depart, leading you into deep sleep, while your being remains all alone. That, he says, is meditation; you abide as that which remains.

A man asks about the difference between the knowing of the heart and the knowing of the mind. Rupert answers that love is to the heart what knowing is to the mind; knowing is the essence of the mind, and love is the essence of the heart. That’s why it is possible to go to one’s true nature through both heart and mind. Love and knowing are really the same experience.

A woman asks why pain is sometimes so intense it makes one lose touch with being. Rupert replies that the pain indicates something is wrong with the body and needs attending to. He says he doesn’t know why the pain gets really intense sometimes.

A woman who, during the meditation earlier that day, followed Rupert’s advice to unwind from sensation, perception, and feeling, felt that even the sense of ‘I am’ unwound too. She seeks advice on whether this experience was true. Rupert uses the analogy of Turner’s watercolour painting: Initially, it appears as if the full moon in the painting is an object in the landscape, but when you go up close, you see it is a gap in the painting through which the paper shines through. The sense of ‘I am’ appears to be something that is in the mind; it is not. It is a portal, a gap through which the mind passes out of time and into eternity.

A man shares his understanding that he doesn’t know anything and questions whether he can even make a true statement. Rupert agrees and states that everything we know of the world we perceive through the filter of our senses. He questions how we know that our senses are not distorting our perception of the world and quotes William Blake: ‘This life’s dim windows of the soul distorts the heavens from pole to pole’.

A man wonders about Rupert’s source of wisdom. Rupert replies that recognition of our true nature, is universal; however, the way this understanding is communicated varies depending on the time, place, and the individual mind expressing it. Rupert mentions that over the last forty-eight years he has not only explored his true nature but also extensively read and studied within the Vedantic, Sufi, Kashmir Shaivite and early Christian traditions. Now, having spoken about non-duality for fifteen years, he observes that his language has become more refined, akin to how his pottery work developed over time.

A woman asks what it really means to see, and what Rupert perceives when he looks at all of his friends. Rupert says that he sees 120 beautiful beings, who are actually all the same being as he is, and he feels this shared being as love for all. He observes the same light and world as everyone else. The illusion remains; the misunderstanding fades away. When you are watching a movie, you are totally absorbed in the scene, and then suddenly you remember it is just a movie. The movie doesn’t disappear; the illusion of the landscape remains, but now when you look at the landscape in the movie, you understand that what you actually see is the screen.

A man asks about the reason for human experience, wondering if awareness uses experience to collect data. Rupert answers that the mind is continuously collecting data, but awareness knows nothing other than itself. It knows nothing, but it is what the mind calls everything. For the mind, there is only everything; for consciousness, there is no nothing, something or everything.

A man from a Tibetan Buddhist background wonders whether people are prepared for such a direct approach or if they might falter without a conventional, step-by-step path. Rupert responds that he believes we are in the age of the Direct or even Pathless Path. He doesn’t see it necessary for students to engage in a progressive path before their body-minds are sufficiently purified to understand this method.

A woman asks Rupert what he plans to do when his teachings gain major attention, such as from Oprah. Rupert acknowledges that he’s torn. While online teachings can expand exponentially, his in-person retreats are the essence of his work. They’re now attracting more attendees, and soon he’ll need to decide whether to limit them to 150 people to maintain a familial atmosphere, despite increasing demand, or expand to 300 or 600 attendees and potentially lose that close-knit feeling.

A man shares his experience of being by the bedside of his dying father and wonders if there is a relationship between awareness and the soul. Rupert answers that ‘soul’ is really an old-fashioned word for ‘the mind’. It implies not only the waking-state mind but also everything that lies below it, such as the content of our dreams. The soul is a localised portion of awareness, each mind or soul being a temporary name and form of infinite consciousness.

A man asks if Rupert sees energy or auras. Rupert says that he sees everyone’s beautiful face and wants to connect with everyone as a friend. He would much rather see everybody’s face than their aura.

A man asks if awareness, in order to know itself, must move away from itself and become localised. Rupert says no, not for awareness to know itself. But he recounts that for awareness to know anything other than itself, it must stand apart from that thing and know it from the localised perspective of a subject of experience. He uses the analogy of Mary, asleep in Burlingame, dreaming that she is Jane on the streets of Paris.

A man seeks confirmation from that his recognition of being the space of awareness is what Rupert is pointing to. Rupert answers that the recognition of our being’s nature carries its own seal of authority and doesn’t require external validation. If the nature of our being is clear, there’s no need for further confirmation.

A man asks if Rupert has even a shadow of doubt anymore or if there is anything that would shake Rupert at this point. Rupert replies that the only thing he is absolutely certain of is the nature of his being; everything else is subject to doubt. The nature of being is so simple and so obvious; being is the only part of experience that cannot be doubted.

A woman, who is often exhausted from twelve-hour shifts in a busy emergency room, asks Rupert how to bring the light of this understanding to her patients and their families. Rupert answers that in such intense situations, she must bring not only her knowledge and experience but also her being. He advises not to let the drama obscure the essence being; remain in touch with it. Since most patients may not be in touch with their being, feeling far from peace, her connection to her own being is crucial. To convey this to them, she should guard the candle in the wind, keeping it alight while continuing her work. By being established in being, it naturally communicates itself, offering real consolation to those in need.

A woman struggles with Rupert’s phrase from the earlier meditation, ‘to fall deeply asleep while remaining wide awake.’ To her, falling asleep means the obliteration of awareness. Rupert replies that when you fall asleep, you’re in bed, relaxed, not making an effort to sleep but letting your experiences go. Your perceptions fade, the world disappears, bodily sensations vanish, and you enter the dream state. Eventually, thoughts and images also depart, leading you into deep sleep, while your being remains all alone. That, he says, is meditation; you abide as that which remains.

A man asks about the difference between the knowing of the heart and the knowing of the mind. Rupert answers that love is to the heart what knowing is to the mind; knowing is the essence of the mind, and love is the essence of the heart. That’s why it is possible to go to one’s true nature through both heart and mind. Love and knowing are really the same experience.

A woman asks why pain is sometimes so intense it makes one lose touch with being. Rupert replies that the pain indicates something is wrong with the body and needs attending to. He says he doesn’t know why the pain gets really intense sometimes.

A woman who, during the meditation earlier that day, followed Rupert’s advice to unwind from sensation, perception, and feeling, felt that even the sense of ‘I am’ unwound too. She seeks advice on whether this experience was true. Rupert uses the analogy of Turner’s watercolour painting: Initially, it appears as if the full moon in the painting is an object in the landscape, but when you go up close, you see it is a gap in the painting through which the paper shines through. The sense of ‘I am’ appears to be something that is in the mind; it is not. It is a portal, a gap through which the mind passes out of time and into eternity.

A man shares his understanding that he doesn’t know anything and questions whether he can even make a true statement. Rupert agrees and states that everything we know of the world we perceive through the filter of our senses. He questions how we know that our senses are not distorting our perception of the world and quotes William Blake: ‘This life’s dim windows of the soul distorts the heavens from pole to pole’.