The Simple Beauty of Understanding

When you explained that the infinite cannot know the finite directly, I struggled with this concept. How does consciousness actually relate to and know the world of form? Rupert says: ‘Consciousness knows the finite indirectly, like the sun knowing through reflected light from the moon. There’s a beauty in the simplicity of this – a truth and love expressed through this understanding. The finite mind jumps around making unnecessary complications, creating mental noise that prevents us from seeing the simple truth. Through conscious discrimination, we can cut through swaths of the mind and allow ourselves to simply see. When this becomes clear, every question and confusion stops. The infinite knows form through the localised mind, but not directly as the infinite itself.’

If only awareness is aware and appearances aren’t aware in themselves, what allows awareness to see through living forms? Could we build an android that awareness could manifest through, and what would enable this? Rupert says: ‘In order for awareness to know form, it must do so from the point of view of a localised mind. A localised mind appears from a second-person point of view as a living, metabolising body. As William Blake said, the body is that portion of the mind that is perceivable by the five senses. There may well be other kinds of mind that our perceiving faculties are not calibrated to register. Given that consciousness is a realm of infinite potentiality, there may be many other kinds of mind who perceive reality in ways impossible for us to imagine because the configuration of their minds would be so different from our own.’

After experiencing profound beauty and connection, I find myself desperately wanting to return to those states. How can I let go of this attachment to peak experiences? Rupert says: ‘The desire to recreate beautiful experiences is natural, but clinging creates suffering. These experiences arise spontaneously from your true nature – they cannot be grasped or held. Like a butterfly that lands on your shoulder, the moment you try to catch it, it flies away. Your being is always present, whether or not these experiences are occurring. Rest in what you are rather than seeking what you’ve experienced. The peace you seek is not in the experience but in the one who experiences. Let experiences come and go whilst remaining as the presence you always are. This is true freedom – not dependent on any particular state.’

How does infinite consciousness become localised as individual minds, and what determines the boundaries of each mind’s perception? Rupert says: ‘All minds are picking up information from the broader medium of consciousness that lies outside their boundary and representing that information to themselves as a physical world. You think you’re looking at a physical world, but that’s just how your senses translate the segment of consciousness your mind has access to. Because of your mind’s limited capacities, it represents that activity of consciousness as time and space. The mind acts as a transducer or step-down transformer, taking something from more subtle layers of frequency and representing it in a way our minds can apprehend. Each mind’s configuration determines what segment of infinite consciousness it can access and how it represents that segment.’

As an artist, I sometimes feel I’m accessing something beyond ordinary perception. What is happening when creative inspiration flows through? Rupert says: ‘Artists are people whose minds are a little more porous and expanded than most minds, and therefore they register frequencies that exist in the collective mind but are not normally registered by regular minds. They bring the content of that segment of consciousness and represent it in a way that most minds can apprehend. The artist is someone who translates these frequencies that most people don’t have access to into the time and space that a regular mind can understand. That’s one of the roles of an artist – acting as a transducer between subtle layers of consciousness and the gross representation we call the physical world. Your expanded perception allows you to access and translate what others cannot directly perceive.’

What is the relationship between our waking experience and dreams? Are dreams showing us something about the nature of consciousness? Rupert says: ‘In dreams, repressed or unexpressed aspects of mind seek release. If you have a fearful disposition that you’ve repressed because it’s unbearable, it will come out in your dreams. The fear that you don’t allow to be released in waking state emerges when your conscious suppression relaxes. Dreams are consciousness expressing itself through the filter of your individual mind, just as waking experience is. Both are activities of consciousness, but in dreams the usual boundaries and suppressions of the waking mind are relaxed. This allows deeper patterns and frequencies to surface and express themselves in symbolic form. Dreams reveal the broader activity of consciousness beyond our normal waking boundaries.’

"Sometimes in meditation I completely forget myself and everything disappears. Is this forgetting valuable, or should I maintain some awareness? Rupert says: ‘This forgetting is the dissolution of the separate self – it’s extremely valuable. When everything disappears, what remains is pure being without the overlay of personal identity. This isn’t unconsciousness; it’s consciousness without content. The mind interprets this as forgetting because there’s no object to remember, no separate self to do the remembering. This is actually a taste of your true nature before it’s filtered through the localised mind. Don’t try to maintain awareness of being someone; that would be preserving the very separation that meditation dissolves. Let yourself disappear completely – what remains is what you truly are.’"

"During meditation I sometimes experience intense energetic phenomena that can be overwhelming. How should I relate to these powerful experiences? Rupert says: ‘Intense energetic experiences are the body-mind reorganising itself in response to understanding. They’re neither to be sought nor resisted. Like weather passing through the sky, let them come and go without attachment or aversion. Your true nature is the space in which these experiences arise and subside. Don’t identify with the experiences or make them special – that would be giving them a reality they don’t possess. Simply remain as the aware presence you are, allowing all experiences their natural movement. The experiences themselves are not the goal; they’re side effects of the deeper recognition of your true nature. Rest as awareness itself, not as the one having experiences.’"

"Since deepening in this understanding, I’ve been experiencing unusual physical sensations and symptoms. Is this connected to spiritual awakening? Rupert says: ‘As understanding deepens, the body-mind goes through a realignment process. Old patterns stored in the body begin to release, which can manifest as physical sensations or symptoms. The body is not separate from consciousness – it’s consciousness appearing as sensation and perception. When identification with separation dissolves, the energetic patterns that maintained that identification also dissolve. This can temporarily create unusual experiences as the system reorganises. Don’t make these symptoms special or problematic. Neither resist nor indulge them. Rest as the presence you are whilst allowing the body its process of realignment. Trust the intelligence of the process.’"

"I feel increasingly drawn to solitude and contemplation rather than active engagement with the world. Is this withdrawal or a natural development? Rupert says: ‘The pull towards contemplative life is natural as understanding deepens. It’s not withdrawal but a reorientation towards what’s essential. As the fascination with external experience diminishes, the call to simply be becomes stronger. This isn’t escape – it’s the recognition that fulfilment lies in being rather than doing. Some are called to active expression, others to contemplation. Both are valid expressions of understanding. Follow what feels true without judgment. The contemplative life can be as full an expression of love as active service. Sometimes being is the greatest gift you can offer. Trust this pull towards silence and simplicity.’"

"How can I maintain my spiritual practice and understanding whilst fully engaged with family responsibilities and a busy life? Rupert says: ‘Spiritual practice isn’t separate from family life – your family is your practice. Every interaction is an opportunity to express understanding. You don’t need to withdraw to find peace; find it in the midst of activity. Being present with your children, patient with challenges, loving through difficulties – this is spiritual practice in action. Don’t wait for quiet moments to be yourself; be yourself in all moments. The separation between spiritual and ordinary life is imaginary. Your being doesn’t require special conditions. It’s equally present changing nappies or in meditation. Let your understanding permeate your daily life rather than compartmentalising it.’"

"My mother recently died, and instead of grief, I feel extraordinary relief. Is this wrong, and how does understanding relate to grief? Rupert says: ‘Relief after a death, especially after long illness or when someone has been suffering, is completely natural and not wrong. This relief might be for them, for yourself, or both. Understanding doesn’t eliminate human emotions but changes our relationship with them. Grief may come in waves or not at all – there’s no correct way to grieve. The relief you feel might be the recognition that your mother’s essential being was never born and cannot die. It might be freedom from the weight of anticipating loss. Whatever you feel is valid. Don’t judge your response against expectations. Let yourself feel what arises naturally, whether relief, grief, or nothing at all.’"

"Sometimes when sharing this understanding, I feel like I’m just repeating words rather than speaking from direct experience. How can teaching remain fresh and authentic? Rupert says: ‘When teaching becomes mechanical, it’s a sign to return to source. Before speaking, sink into being and let words arise from silence rather than memory. Teaching isn’t about conveying information but sharing presence. If words feel stale, perhaps less needs to be said. Sometimes silence teaches more than speech. Don’t teach from obligation but from love. When you feel you’re repeating rather than expressing, pause and reconnect with what you’re pointing towards. Let each moment of teaching be fresh, as if discovering the truth anew. The most powerful teaching is your being itself – words are secondary. Speak only when moved by love or genuine necessity.’"

"As my understanding deepens, I find myself less interested in maintaining certain relationships. They’re drifting away naturally, but I feel guilty about not formally addressing it. Rupert says: ‘As your understanding deepens and matures, your interests change, what you want to do with your time and energy changes, and therefore the people you want to spend time with change. You find you don’t have quite so much in common with some people when your understanding has diverged. It may be appropriate to formalise or discuss it, or you might find yourself naturally drifting apart. It’s not necessary to verbalise it – you just find yourself falling out of touch. As you make new friends that share your interests, you may lose old friends. That’s natural. Most friendships that have fallen away in my life haven’t been formalised – we’ve just fallen out of touch as our journeys diverged.’"

"After profound experiences of relief and understanding, I find myself wanting silence more than teaching. Even beautiful teachings feel like just words now. Is this a natural progression? Rupert says: ‘I totally understand. The verbal teaching has done its job for you. You may still enjoy listening, not for instruction but for enjoyment, like listening to music. It’s beautiful to listen to teaching not to get something from it but just to bathe in it. You want to sink into your being, to lead a contemplative life. I feel this more and more myself – wanting to have a quiet, contemplative life. Follow your heart. Someone said to me, “Rupert, we don’t need you anymore”, and it was so generous, so understanding. I felt released. You follow your heart – we’ll miss you, but we love you if you don’t come back.’"