The time and  
space that seem to exist for the character in a dream do not exist for the  
dreamer when she wakes up. The entire dream is a movement of the  
dreamer’s mind, but the dreamer’s mind never goes anywhere. Our entire  
life is a movement of awareness, but awareness itself never goes anywhere. Awareness is eternally present now – not now, a moment in time, but the  
ever-present now, eternity. Awareness is always in the placeless place of itself,  
not a place in space but the dimensionless presence of its own being. Some people seem to get more youthful and radiant as they get older. Yes! In fact, many people feel that in spite of the passing years they are not  
really growing older. They increasingly have the feeling of being always the  
same person. Where does this feeling come from? It can only come from  
that which is always the same in us. What is that? Knowing, being aware or awareness itself is the only element of experience  
that always remains the same. The feeling that we never get older or that we  
have always been the same person is an intuition of this truth. In fact, it is 
more than an intuition; it is the taste of our eternity, the taste of our ever-
present, ageless, changeless, untarnished self. The more deeply this is understood and felt, the more brightly the innate  
qualities of our essential, aware being shine through the character of the per -
son, infusing the mind and body with its radiance and peace, and shedding  
its warmth upon those with whom we come in contact. In old age, as the  
mind and body of such a person fade, they become increasingly transparent  
to their being, which in turn progressively shines through all aspects of their  
experience. It is a blessing simply to be with such people. But I am regularly in pain. There may be intense sensations, but do not allow the intensity of a sensation  
to persuade you that you are a body, let alone an ageing one! But I am unwell more and more often. 97you are the happiness you seek
Does awareness ever say, ‘I am sick’? Does the body ever say, ‘I am sick’? No! It is the mind that claims, ‘I am sick’. But even that claim is just a  
thought. Can a thought be sick? Can a sensation or a perception be sick? No! Sickness is, in the ultimate analysis, a concept. And this understanding  
is the ultimate healing: not a cure that will heal us in the future, but a cure  
that leads us directly to that in ourself which is already and inherently free  
of sickness and death, irrespective of the condition of the mind and body. I do not mean to imply that it is not legitimate or appropriate to take  
relative steps to heal illness, but such steps should not eclipse the background  
of stillness and well-being against which all experience takes place. Ulti -
mately, to be healthy means to be whole, unbroken, undivided and, there -
fore, without conflict or dissatisfaction. Don’t try to become that; see that  
what you essentially are is always and already that. Make this understanding  
your lived and felt experience. 98chapter thirteen
Our Innate Happiness
Thus the master travels all day without leaving home. However splendid the views, she stays serenely in herself. lao tzu  
 
happiness is always the same  
 
I understand clearly that peace and happiness is the nature of myself, but I have  
to admit that my happiness is very much dependent on my circumstances. When they coincide with my desires, I’m happy. When they don’t, I suffer. So I feel  
caught between my genuine understanding and my undeniable experience. Everyone has experienced periods of happiness in their life, and in most cases  
each occasion was preceded by a particular object, substance, activity, cir -
cumstance or person. When we were five years old, our happiness seemed to  
be caused by a trip to the seaside or the ice cream that our mother gave us. At age ten it was winning a competition or becoming friends with a particu -
lar person. In our teenage years, the happiness seemed to be caused by falling  
in love, a trip abroad or winning a game at school. Later on, in our twenties,  
it may have been our first job, a new home, getting married, starting a family,  
and so on. In this way, a clear connection between happiness and the acquisition of  
a particular object or substance, or the experience of a particular activity,  
circumstance or relationship, was established early on in our lives. From this  
connection we concluded that happiness must be caused by objective  
experience, even if we didn’t formulate it to ourself in these terms. This con -
viction would subsequently initiate and justify an endless and ultimately  
frustrating search for happiness in objective experience. If we look more closely, we discover that the premise of this conclusion  
is far from true. T o begin with, we notice that in every instance of happiness,  you are the happiness you seek
the experience of happiness itself is always the same . The experience of hap -
piness when, as a child, we won a competition at school, was exactly the  
same as the experience of happiness that we felt as a teenager upon falling in  
love, or as a young adult on getting our first job, or indeed at any time  
in our life when we felt happiness. Happiness does not come in different flavours, although it may seem to  
be caused by different circumstances. Happiness itself is always the same ex-
perience, irrespective of its apparent cause. This observation alone should  
arouse our suspicion as to the causal connection between objective experience  
and happiness. Our suspicion is confirmed when we notice that whoever or whatever  
may seem to make us happy one day may leave us indifferent the next,  
or may even, in time, make us miserable. The discarded toy that only  
a few days earlier gave the child such delight is quickly forgotten, or the  
intimate relationship that was once a source of such joy is now the cause  
of sorrow. If happiness were really caused by an object, substance, activity, circum -
stance or relationship, then as long as one of these were present, happiness  
would be experienced. Conversely, the same must be true of suffering. If the  
same object, situation or person can make us happy one day and miserable  
the next, then none of these can itself be a cause of suffering. If happiness were caused directly by objective experience, then certain ex -
periences would make everybody happy. However, this is not our experience. If health were a source of happiness and sickness a source of unhappiness,  
all healthy people would be happy and all sick people would be unhappy. If wealth were a source of happiness, all rich people would be happy and the  
impoverished would be miserable. This is obviously not the case. If one person is a gardener in California and it rains in August, she will  
be delighted. If another is a lawn tennis player in Oxford and it rains in  
August, he will be miserable. The rain itself is neither pleasant nor unpleas -
ant. It has no inherent power to make us either happy or miserable. It is  
our inner disposition that confers on the rain the ability to cause happiness  
or suffering. Furthermore, the same event can make one person happy and another  
person miserable at the same time . In a tennis match between Roger Federer  
100our innate happiness
and Rafael Nadal, everyone is watching the same game, but if Federer  
wins, half the spectators will be happy and half will be unhappy, and vice  
versa. If the same event can simultaneously be the cause of happiness in some  
people and unhappiness in others, then the joy and suffering experienced  
cannot have anything to do with the event itself. It has everything to do with  
the attitude we bring to bear on the event, an attitude which does not arise  
in response to the current event itself but comes from our own past con -
ditioning. From this we may draw a simple conclusion: nothing objective  
has any inherent power to cause either happiness or suffering. Then why is it that our external circumstances seem to have the capacity to make  
us happy or miserable? The fact that the fulfilment of a desire seems to bring about happiness does  
indeed suggest that objects, substances, activities, circumstances and rela -
tionships are its cause. However, the acquisition of any of these does not  
cause the happiness that we experience. Rather, it brings to an end the state  
of desire, the activity of seeking and resisting, that defines the ego or sep -
arate self. In the absence of seeking and resisting, that is, in the absence of any im -
pulse to escape the now, we find ourself at one with our current experience  
and aligned with the flow of the universe. We no longer separate ourself from  
the totality of experience as an independently existing entity that either likes  
its experience and wants to hold on to it or dislikes its experience and wants  
to get rid of it. As a result, our true nature of peace and happiness shines. The happiness has not been caused by anything outside of ourself. It is  
simply the natural condition of our self, which previously was obscured by  
the activity of seeking and resisting and is now revealed. When my son was six or seven years old, I gave him a pair of goalkeeping  
gloves for his birthday. He impatiently tore open the packaging, gazed at the  
gloves and exclaimed, ‘Oh, I love getting new things!’  
     Without realising it, he had intuited that it was not the gloves themselves  
that gave him that moment of joy. It was their newness that had the power  
to put an end to the state of expectation – that is, the future – and bring  
him directly into the present. 101you are the happiness you seek
     And how do we escape the present and venture into the future? Through  
thought. For my son, the gloves temporarily put an end to thought, and in  
its absence, the presence of awareness lying just behind thought, and usually  
veiled by it, was experienced. That is, it experienced itself. Had the gloves themselves been the source of happiness, then whenever he  
had the gloves with him, he would have been happy. Suffice it to say that this  
was not the case! For a few days the gloves retained their capacity to bring him  
into the now, that is, to the experience of happiness, and for as long as this  
lasted, he continued to enjoy them. But in time they lost this capacity and, al -
though he continued to use them, they were no longer a source of happiness. Most of us will be able to relate to this story. We need only substitute for  
the goalkeeping gloves the object, substance, activity, circumstance or rela -
tionship of our choice. Believing that the object itself was the cause of the  
happiness we previously experienced, the mind sets out in search of another  
such object or experience, thereby perpetuating an endless cycle of seeking  
and disappointment, punctuated by fleeting intervals of happiness. In this way, apart from relatively brief periods of respite, most people’s  
experience is characterised by the state of seeking and resisting. As a result,  
their innate peace and happiness remains, for most of the time, an unrealised  
potential. seeking and resistance  
 
But I don’t desire just any old object, circumstance or relationship to put an end  
to my dissatisfaction. My desires are very specific. If they weren’t, anything or any -
one would do. Alas, this is not the case! External circumstances seem to have the power to cause happiness or un -
happiness only to the extent to which they coincide with the conditioned  
layer of likes and dislikes lying in the depths of our mind. This layer of in -
dividual preferences lies between the background of awareness and the fore -
ground of objects and people, and constitutes a filter through which our  
experience is mediated. This intermediary layer of subliminal feelings is triggered by our experi -
ence of the world and, in turn, triggers the activity of seeking and resisting. If our experience of the world does not activate this layer of likes and dislikes,  
102our innate happiness
there is no inclination in us to resist the current experience or to seek a new  
experience. For instance, if we were neither a gardener in California nor a lawn ten -
nis player in Oxford, we would have no pre-existing attitude towards the  
rain and would, therefore, neither seek it when absent nor resist it when  
present. If we did not have a preference for Federer or Nadal, the outcome  
of their match would not have the capacity to make us happy or sad. If my  
son did not love football, the gloves would have had no power to elicit  
happiness. In the absence of preferences and the activity of seeking and resisting they  
generate, we are one with our current experience and, as a result, our innate  
happiness is felt. Around about the same age my son received the gloves, I took him to his  
first football match. Just before the game began, I asked him which side he  
wanted to win. He looked at me with a puzzled expression, as if it were a  
foolish question, and replied, ‘Whoever scores the most goals’. It was one of those disarmingly simple and uncannily wise comments  
that children of a certain age sometimes make. Such comments are informed  
by an innocent and luminous intelligence which has not yet been moulded  
by rational thought. In relation to the football match, my son’s mind had not been con -
ditioned with preferences, and therefore he did not bring the past to bear  
on his current experience. There was no resistance in him to the current situ -
ation because he did not have a preconceived idea in his mind as to how the  
game should unfold. His state of mind was one with the current situation  
in whichever direction it flowed. He simply wanted whoever was winning  
to win! He wanted whatever was happening to happen. In time, of course, my son would grow up to overlook this understanding. However, it attests to the intelligence that is the essence of each of our minds  
and that, although obscured in most cases, is always available behind the  
layers of conditioned thought and feeling. The same innocent, luminous intelligence was expressed some four -
teen hundred years ago by the Third Patriarch of Zen, Seng-Ts’an. His  
famous poem Hsin Hsin Ming  – which could be translated as Trusting the  
Nature of Awareness  – is one of the pre-eminent texts of the Zen Buddhist  
tradition:    
103you are the happiness you seek
T o be at peace and content is not difficult for those who have no prefer -
ences. When likes and dislikes are not present everything becomes clear  
and simple. Make the smallest distinction, however, and you will be exiled  
from the realm of eternal happiness which is your birthright. If you wish  
to be happy and at peace, then hold no opinions for or against anyone or  
anything. T o set up what you like against what you dislike is a conditioned  
habit of the mind. It is a recipe for misery. When we allow things to be as  
they are, things allow us to be as we are, and the peace and happiness that  
is our nature emerges effortlessly. * 
 
unconditional openness  
 
Happiness is always present within us, latent but obscured by our resistance  
to the current situation. This resistance is, in turn, activated on behalf of the  
subliminal layer of our conditioned likes and dislikes. Indeed, we do not  
seek any object, substance, activity, circumstance or relationship for its own  
sake but rather to satisfy the demand implicit in our preferences. When this demand is met, our resistance to the current situation comes to  
an end. We become aligned with our current experience rather than in opposi -
tion to it. In that alignment with what is, our innate happiness shines forth. A sane person is one who does not wait for their circumstances to align  
with their preconceived ideas of how they should be. Their happiness is  
prior to, and independent of, the content of experience. They do not allow  
experience to determine their happiness; they bring their happiness to ex -
perience, in the form of unconditional openness to whatever it is they are  
experiencing. I once heard a story of a ninety-two-year-old woman who, when her hus -
band of sixty years passed away, registered to move into a care home. On ar -
rival, she was greeted and taken to see her new room. As they entered the  
lift, she said to her carer, ‘I love it!’ ‘What?’ enquired the carer. ‘The room’,  
she said. ‘But you haven’t seen it yet’, the carer responded, perplexed. ‘That  
has nothing to do with it!’ the elderly woman replied. T o search for happiness in objective experience is fundamentally flawed. It is to court misery. One who sees this clearly withdraws their expectation  
104* This is my own rendition of Hsin Hsin Ming  by Seng-Ts’an, compiled from numerous translations. our innate happiness
and demand that people and circumstances be a source of happiness. T o search  
for peace and happiness in objective experience is to set oneself up for failure  
and disappointment and to sow the seeds of conflict in relationships. All psychological or emotional suffering arises on behalf of our resistance,  
and our resistance is something that rises up within us. No person or cir -
cumstance imposes suffering on us; we do it to ourself. Happiness is what  
we are  ; unhappiness is the activity of seeking and resisting that we do. Unhappiness always has a cause – namely, the frustration of our expec -
tations and the subsequent activity of seeking and resisting – whilst happiness  
is always causeless. In the absence of the layer of expectations and demands  
through which our experience is filtered and negotiated, seeking and resisting  
are not triggered. We find ourself naturally open to, and one with, the current  
situation. We are in harmony with the unfolding of the universe. This oneness with the content of experience is not something that need  
be practised or manufactured. It is our natural condition prior to the arising  
of the activity of seeking and resisting. In contrast, the filtering layer of  
thoughts and feelings through which we navigate our experience needs to  
be fabricated and maintained. Happiness is not something that can be found, acquired or caused. It can  
only be uncovered, revealed and recognised. It is the shining of our own un -
conditioned being in the midst of experience. We do not need to make an  
effort to achieve it. On the contrary, it is the effort of seeking and resisting that veils it. It is for  
this reason that the sage Ashtavakra said, ‘Happiness belongs to that supremely  
lazy person for whom even blinking is too much trouble’. *   
 
  
105* The Ashtavakra Gita. chapter fourteen
Suffering Is Our Own Activity
Find the One everywhere and in everything  
and there will be an end to pain and suffering. anandamayi ma  
 
The density of the conditioned layer of likes and dislikes that lives in the  
recesses of our mind, and the frequency with which it is provoked, determines  
the extent to which seeking and resisting arise within us and veil our innate  
happiness. If this filter is relatively transparent, a degree of happiness will percolate  
into our experience, just as sunlight filters into a room through a fine muslin  
curtain. If it is opaque and frequently triggered in response to the current  
situation, our innate peace and happiness will be almost completely ob -
scured, just as a heavy curtain almost entirely blocks out the sun’s light. This  
would equate to the experience of depression. Most people’s experience of suffering fluctuates on a spectrum between  
these two possibilities, varying only in amplitude and frequency. In the ab -
sence of any such filter of likes and dislikes, and the activity of seeking and  
resisting that accompanies it, the foreground of experience will be pervaded  
by the happiness that is the nature of its background, just as a room without  
curtains is filled with light. In fact, when our bedroom curtains are opened, we do not see the light  
flowing in through the windows from outside. The light emerges within the  
room. Likewise, as soon as the layer of likes and dislikes through which we  
filter and negotiate experience subsides, we are flooded with peace from the  
inside. That peace and joy is always there. It is our very nature, simply waiting  
to be liberated. It is we who close ourself off from it. Happiness is never  
given or withheld by circumstances. It is solely the outcome of our inner dis -
position, and we are free at every moment to determine this. you are the happiness you seek
the storehouse of emotional residues  
 
What is it that makes up this layer of likes and dislikes, and what causes it to arise? The natural condition of awareness is to be open without resistance to all  
experience, just as physical space offers no resistance to whatever takes place  
within it. In this case, an experience will arise in awareness, exist for some  
time and then dissolve back into it, without leaving a trace on it or initiating  
a process of seeking and resisting. However, there are some experiences which do not pass unimpeded  
through awareness but are met with either resistance or the desire to hold  
on to them. At other times we seek an experience that is not present, which  
is a form of resistance to our current experience. Each time we resist an experience that we are facing, hold on to an  
experience that is passing, or seek an experience that is absent, we are in  
opposition to our current situation, in defence against what is. As a result,  
a conflict is generated in our mind. If this conflict is subsequently resolved, the energy induced by it will dis -
sipate and no trace of it will remain. But if the conflict remains unresolved,  
it will be stored, not only in the deeper layers of the mind but as a cor -
responding layer of tension in the body. The residue of innumerable such unresolved conflicts and tensions lies  
imprinted in our minds and bodies. T ogether these constitute the layer of  
likes and dislikes through which we filter and negotiate experience, and by  
which our innate happiness is at least partially veiled. In order to understand how this layer of tendencies and preferences distorts  
our current experience and influences our response to it, let us return to the  
analogy of awareness as an open, empty, aware space. All experience arises  
within this space, and if an experience is neither particularly pleasant nor  
unpleasant, it will leave no trace in it when it disappears. However, if any experience is considered especially pleasant or unpleasant  
and, as a result, we either want to hold on to it or get rid of it, a tension is  
set up within us. When the experience disappears, a residue of this unresolved  
tension remains in the space, like a thin layer of cloud, through which the  
next appearance or experience is filtered. 108suffering is our own activity
     Although the space of awareness itself is always clear, open and empty,  
and remains untarnished by any experience, innumerable such emotional  
residues linger within it and together form the layer of tendencies and pref -
erences. When we experience anything in life that corresponds to any aspect of the  
content of this storehouse of emotional residues, the same activity of seeking  
or resisting will be triggered that caused it to be laid down in the recesses of  
our mind in the first place. If we find ourself reacting disproportionately to  
an experience, we can be certain that the residual layer of subliminal feelings  
has been activated and is making itself known. For instance, one who was neglected or abandoned as a child may find  
themselves feeling rejected when their partner looks at another person or  
even just requires some time on their own. One who was repeatedly under -
mined as a child may find themselves unreasonably defensive in the face of  
criticism or regularly reasserting their fragile sense of self through judgement,  
criticism or argument. They may find themselves easily provoked and prone  
to taking offence in situations where none was intended. If these habitual  tendencies  and residual  energies  lie below  the threshold  of 
the waking-state mind, are we doomed forever to live out their consequences? And if not, is it enough to abide as the presence of awareness in the face of them,  
or is it necessary to become conscious of them before we are able to get rid of them? The attempt to get rid of these deep-seated habits and tendencies is itself one  
such habit. Thus, attempting to get rid of itself is one of the subtler ways  
that the apparently separate self perpetuates itself. The apparently separate self thrives on conflict, and if it cannot find  
another person to oppose, conflict with itself will suffice. So the first step is  
acceptance, openness. Fortunately, openness is the nature of awareness;  
it does not have to be manufactured or maintained by effort. All that is required is to be knowingly the aware openness within which  
this knot of tension is appearing and with which it is known. Ultimately,  
the feeling is made of the very awareness within which it appears, just as all  
waves and currents are made of the ocean. Organisms that live at the bottom of a well rarely see the light of day and  
thus remain dormant. However, once a day at midday, the light of the sun  
109you are the happiness you seek
shines directly into the shaft of the well and the creatures at the bottom wake  
up and begin to make their way to the surface. Similarly, the subliminal layer of thoughts and feelings lies below the  
threshold of the waking-state mind and is not available to it under normal  
circumstances. In most cases, these feelings are too painful to face, and so  
we develop strategies to repress or avoid them. In this way, their continued existence below the surface of the waking-
state mind remains assured, and they continue to exert their subliminal and  
disruptive influence in our lives. They remain at the bottom of the well, so  
to speak, often making themselves known in our dreams, or in outbursts of  
emotional reactivity or destructive behaviour in the waking state. In fact, the  
more they are ignored or repressed, the more they tend to escalate in intensity  
as they clamour for our attention. When we abide as the resistanceless presence of awareness, however, we  
no longer have a negative or repressive attitude towards such feelings and  
they are, as a result, allowed to surface. The deep-seated tendencies that lie  
in the ‘unconscious’ – the recesses of the mind that are not accessible to the  
waking state – begin to rise to the surface, attracted by the sun of awareness. This attitude of allowing or welcoming is itself both the exposing and the  
dissolving of these subliminal tendencies. As these residual layers of buried emotion dissipate and the natural open -
ness of awareness becomes increasingly obvious, fewer and fewer circum -
stances in our life retain the power to provoke the activity of seeking and  
resisting. As a result, we begin to find ourself at peace and fulfilled in cir -
cumstances that would have previously been a source of suffering and con -
flict. We are becoming established in the peace of our true nature. In the absence of resistance, we no longer separate ourself from the universe as  
an independently existing entity by disliking what is present or seeking what  
is not present. In fact, in this case there is no ‘we’ and the rest of the universe. The universe is a  universe , not a multiverse. It is a single, indivisible whole. Our likes and dislikes, and the activity of seeking and resisting which  
they generate, are the mechanism by which we set ourself up as a separate  
entity apart from all others and the world. Prior to the arising of that activity,  
the current situation is a dance of interrelated elements in which no person  
or thing stands out with its own separate or independent existence. 110suffering is our own activity
     In the ultimate analysis, there are no people or things. Discrete objects are  
only such from the perspective of an illusory separate self or ego. Through the  
activity of seeking and resisting, we artificially extract ourself from the totality of  
the current situation as an apparently separate and independent entity, the ego. It is that imaginary entity who, through its own activity of liking and  
disliking, sets itself apart from all objects and others. As a result, it is always  
in conflict with the universe, a conflict that it cannot win. Such a one is des -
tined for frustration and disappointment, thereby inflicting suffering upon  
itself and creating conflict with whomever it comes in contact. Neither will the activities of such an entity contribute to the long-term  
good of humanity, although they may make a difference in the short term. The sense of separation that lies at its origin will be imprinted subliminally  
within all of its activities and will, in time, initiate further conflict. It is for  
this reason that so many injustices in our civilisation have yet to be remedied  
in spite of centuries of well-intentioned intervention. The primary distinction between self and other, which is initiated and  
perpetuated by the activity of seeking and resisting, is the birth of duality. It is the departure from the Garden of Eden. It is the activity through which  
the unity of being is fragmented into an apparent multiplicity and diversity  
of discrete and independently existing objects and selves. It is the activity of separation, the inevitable consequence of which is  
unhappiness on the inside, conflict between individuals, communities and  
nations on the outside, and the exploitation and degradation of the earth. *     *     *  
 
Most of the great religious and spiritual traditions contain at their origin the  
understanding that the peace and fulfilment for which all people long lies in  
the depths of their own being and is equally available to all people, at all  
times and under all circumstances, except in rare cases when the safety or  
well-being of the body is severely compromised. However, in time this understanding has, to a greater or lesser extent,  
become mixed with extraneous elements, derived either from the local, tem -
poral customs of the culture in which the tradition originated or from mis -
understandings that have mystified and complicated this simple and direct  
approach. 111you are the happiness you seek
     Devoid of this understanding, our world culture can offer only temporary  
distraction from uncomfortable feelings through the acquisition of objects,  
substances, activities, states of mind and relationships. However, as soon as  
the object, substance, activity, and so on, has worn off or come to an end,  
the underlying suffering surfaces again, compounding the cycle of suffering,  
seeking and avoidance that is the basis of all addiction. I was once on a flight from San Francisco to Seattle, during which I was  
editing an article on the source of addiction. In an uncanny and poignant  
moment of synchronicity, the obese woman sitting next to me, with whom  
I had been conversing off and on during the flight, ordered yet another snack  
and, turning to me with a sigh of relief which thinly veiled the look of despair  
in her eyes, said, ‘The more I eat, the better I feel’. Little did she know that the smile I gave her was not only in response to  
the succinctness with which she had expressed the very syndrome about  
which I was currently writing but, more importantly, contained a prayer that  
one day a pause might open up in her cycle of lack, avoidance and fleeting  
fulfilment, in which the background of peace for which she longed would  
make itself known to her. Many people are forever in search of new objects, experiences or rela -
tionships in order to mask the unbearable void they feel in the centre of  
themselves, without realising that what they really seek is to be brought into  
harmony with the now, irrespective of its content, so as to taste the peace  
and joy of their true nature. Each of us is faced with a simple choice at every moment: to embrace our  
current circumstance and respond to it from that position of openness, or  
to view the situation through the filter of our past conditioning and reject it  
on that basis. If we welcome whatever we are currently experiencing – the  
state of our health, the behaviour of our partner, colleague, parent or child,  
or the unfolding of events in the world – the same happiness that we would  
feel on winning the lottery will be released in our current experience. Imagine the freedom of leading a life in which we know that our happi -
ness is not dependent on anyone or anything. The peace and joy that is the  
nature of our being would be our constant companion, sometimes present  
quietly in the background of experience and sometimes overflowing into the  
foreground. 112suffering is our own activity
eroding the layers  
 
Almost all psychological suffering is the activity of seeking and resisting that  
is triggered by our deeply ingrained tendencies. It is, as such, our own activity. It is never imposed on us from the outside. If we find ourself blaming some -
one or something for our unhappiness, it simply indicates that we have not  
yet clearly understood the mechanism of suffering. If we think that the loss of our faculties, the behaviour of our partner, the  
state of our bank balance or the condition of our health is the cause of our un -
happiness, we are mistaken. None of these can cause unhappiness unless we give  
them permission to do so, in which case they will do so. As soon as we withdraw  
that permission, we immediately take responsibility for our own suffering. Happiness is the inevitable consequence of facing one’s moment-by-
moment experience without resistance. Each time we face our current ex -
perience with this attitude of openness and surrender, we are, without  
realising it, undermining and gradually eroding the subliminal store of ten -
dencies and preferences that lies in the depths of our mind. Likewise, every time we allow our responses and actions to be governed  
by this subliminal layer, we are strengthening it and setting ourself up for  
unhappiness in the future. Shantananda Saraswati used to tell a story about Krishna and his companion  
on a journey. At the end of the first day’s walking, they came to the mansion  
of a wealthy man and asked if they could rest there for the night. The wealthy  
man commanded one of his servants to show them to the cattle shed, where  
they found a place to sleep in the straw. On leaving in the morning, Krishna  
cast a spell over the man that caused his wealth to double. The following evening, they came to the house of an impoverished farmer  
who had only one cow, whose milk he relied on as a source of nourishment  
and income. They asked the farmer for a place to stay, and in response he  
cleared out his own modest bedroom for them, shared his meagre evening  
meal with them, and himself went to sleep in the shed. The next morning Krishna thanked the farmer and cast a spell on his cow  
that caused it to become sick and die. After several hours’ walking, Krishna’s  
companion could no longer restrain himself and asked him to explain why  
he had treated their hosts so unfairly. 113you are the happiness you seek
     Krishna replied that the wealthy man had numerous attachments and he  
had simply doubled them, thereby causing him more misery, while the  
farmer had only one attachment that stood between him and causeless hap -
piness, and he had simply removed it. In the context of our exploration, we could liken the two men’s at -
tachments to the storehouse of residual energies that remain in our heart  
long after the event which provoked them has disappeared. Krishna was  
strengthening the influence of this storehouse in the wealthy man’s life. In doing so, he was intensifying the rich man’s tendency of seeking and re -
sisting, thus increasing his suffering. By causing the poor man’s cow to die, Krishna was undermining the  
strength and density of his residual tendencies, purifying his heart of the last  
vestiges of belief that happiness is dependent on circumstances, thereby  
enabling him to fully experience that causeless joy. External circumstances are not responsible for provoking seeking or  
resisting within us; they are our own responsibility. Instead of reacting  
emotionally and impulsively, we take a step back from the conditioned  
layer of likes and dislikes which characterises the separate self or ego and,  
standing as the presence of awareness, face all experience without resis -
tance. In the absence or neutralisation of the intermediary layer of likes and dis -
likes, and the activity of seeking and resisting that is generated by it, the  
peace and happiness that is the nature of our essential self shines unob -
structed in our experience. It is not the object, substance, activity, state of mind or relationship that  
we truly seek. All we truly seek is to bring the experience of seeking to an  
end. We desire only the ending of desire. ‘yes’ to all experience  
 
The first words I ever heard Francis say were, ‘Meditation is a universal “yes”  
to the totality of one’s experience’. Had I fully understood their implication,  
no further instruction would have been necessary. By simply saying ‘yes’ to  
our current situation, irrespective of its content, we are, without necessarily  
realising it at first, standing in and as our true nature of awareness and open -
ing ourself to its innate qualities of peace and joy. 114suffering is our own activity
     Just as the empty space of a room unconditionally allows whatever takes  
place within it without resistance, so our essential nature of pure awareness  
is open without resistance to all experience. It is thought alone that rises up  
and says ‘no’ to the current experience. If that ‘no’ rises on behalf of the safety  
or well-being of the body, then it is a direct and legitimate response to the  
current situation. Usually, however, the ‘no’ rises on behalf of an illusory self that we almost  
constantly try to protect, enhance or fulfil. In fact, the separate self is not an  
entity in its own right; it is the  feeling  of defence and lack, and the cor -
responding activity  of seeking and resisting. T o counteract this resistance,  
one may simply determine to say ‘yes’ to all experience, unless the safety and  
well-being of the body are at stake. This universal welcoming of all experience does not, in fact, need to be  
practised by the mind. It is the very nature of awareness to allow all experi -
ence as it is. In the absence of an intermediary layer of seeking and resisting,  
we, awareness, are naturally and effortlessly surrendered to or in alignment  
with our current experience, completely open to it and at the same time free  
or independent of it. The moment we separate ourself out from the totality as a separate self  
or person, we create a state of opposition. The remedy is simple: say ‘yes’ to  
experience. In doing so, we align ourself with the universe, moment by mo -
ment, rather than pitting ourself against it. In fact, it is not even necessary to say ‘yes’ to any experience, for, being in -
separable from the universe, we are always and already one with it. There is  
just the indivisible totality of the situation, and we as an apparent individual  
are in participation, not conflict, with it, just as a practitioner of Aikido will  
flow with their opponent’s energies rather than resist them. A friend of mine who used to coach one of the top under-fourteen tennis  
players in the world told me that whenever she made a mistake or lost a  
point, she would smile. Instead of provoking in herself ‘the failure’ – the ego  
that inhibits the free flow of inspiration in an athlete’s game – her smile  
would erase the error, leaving her open and relaxed to face the next point  
without any residue of the past to sabotage it. And I once heard a violinist performing Bach’s solo violin partitas in a  
church. At a critical moment, in the silence between two movements, the  
115you are the happiness you seek
mobile phone of a woman sitting in the front row rang with that familiar,  
persistent ringtone: da da der der, da da der der, da da der der, der der . Without a moment’s pause, the violinist briefly improvised on the theme be -
fore weaving it into the beginning of the next movement. Bach would surely  
have been delighted! Actions that are in line with and an expression of the whole tend to restore  
balance and harmony in situations that have diverged from it. And when  
the response is over, no separate self rises up to claim authorship. As it says  
in the Tao T e Ching, such a person ‘acts without doing anything’. Welcoming our current experience is not something that we need practise . It is what we are. This attitude of welcoming is, as such, the natural condition  
of our self prior to the arising of the apparently separate self or ego. It is our  
default state and, therefore, does not have to be maintained by effort. It is  
for this reason that this approach is said to be an effortless path. All that is necessary is to cease resisting experience. It is our unimpeded  
openness to the current experience that enables our innate happiness to be  
fully felt, irrespective of the content of the experience. In the absence of  
resistance, our natural state of openness to experience is revealed. Openness  
is what we are; resistance is what we do. 116chapter fifteen
The Way of Surrender
Life could be limitless joy, if we would only  
take it for what it is, in the way it is given to us. tolstoy  
 
the call to return  
 
Just as the transparency of a screen is veiled when a movie begins, so the in -
nate peace and joy that is the nature of our being is obscured when we lose  
our self in the content of experience. The ensuing suffering is the inevitable  
consequence of our forgetting or overlooking our essential self. Suffering is the means by which we are reminded to return from the ad -
venture of experience to our self. In fact, one with a deep interest in truth or  
reality does not see suffering as something incorrect, wrong or problematic. Rather, they welcome it as a reminder that they have invested their happiness  
in objective experience, and consider it a loving, if perhaps stringent, invita -
tion to return to their own being. Everybody experiences this call to recognise their true nature, although  
not everybody recognises their suffering as such. Indeed, most people re -
spond to the experience of suffering by intensifying their search for peace  
and happiness in the realm of objective experience, thus further alienating  
themselves from the peace and joy that lies within them. Shantananda Saraswati used to tell the story of a disciple, a woman  
named Kunti, who had one prayer in life: ‘Lord, give me some adversity so  
that I may always remember You’. She instinctively knew that the fulfilment  
of her personal desires would substantiate the tendency to look for happiness  
in objective experience rather than finding it, in her language, ‘in God’s pres -
ence in her heart’. Therefore, she prayed to have that temptation removed. Kunti realised that by having her personal desires fulfilled she was  
strengthening the ego on whose behalf they arose. By asking for some difficulty,  you are the happiness you seek
that is, by desiring the curtailment of her desires, she was really praying for  
the diminishment of her ego, which is another way of saying that she was  
praying that God’s presence might be magnified within her. Most people’s experience is hard enough without their having to ask for  
further difficulties, but the story of Kunti illustrates the depth of love of truth  
that is often kindled in the heart of one for whom objective experience has  
lost, or is beginning to lose, its capacity to be the source of peace and hap -
piness, and the attitude of surrender that accompanies it. More important than the content of the prayer is the inner attitude of open -
ness from which it arises. Such is the correspondence between our inner lives  
and the outside world that this attitude of surrender compels the universe  
to respond. After all, the universe and the individual are not two separate systems. The individual’s desire for happiness is really its desire to be relieved of  
everything that seems to render it separate from everyone and everything –  
in other words, its desire to return to the universal. However, that is said as a concession to the individual’s perspective. In reality, the individual is only such from its own partial and, ultimately,  
illusory perspective. From the perspective of the universal, there is just the  
universal. The individual is a point of view of the universal within  the uni -
versal; it is not an entity in its own right. What is felt by the individual as its desire for happiness is, in reality, the  
universe’s own impulse to restore the natural order. And because such a de -
sire is impersonal, the universe cannot help but fulfil it. Even if the response  
is initially only in the form of a book, a meeting with a friend, a video or  
a chance encounter, if followed with the same pure intention to find happi -
ness or truth, it will sooner or later lead there. open without resistance  
 
It is also possible that an attitude of surrender may be brought about as  
a result of our circumstances, without any effort on our own part. In this  
case, the sheer intensity of the moment will eradicate the filter of thoughts  
and feelings through which our experience is usually mediated, allowing  
our innate happiness to shine. 118the way of surrender
     Most experience lies within a range of normality that leaves the habitual,  
discursive activity of the mind intact, commentating, comparing, analysing,  
judging, evaluating, responding, and so on. However, at either end of this  
spectrum there lies a range of experience which is either so pleasant or so  
unpleasant that the mind is not able to accommodate it within its normal  
frame of reference. As a result, its activity comes to an end. Phrases such as, ‘It blew my mind’, ‘I was taken aback’, ‘It silenced me’,  
‘I was stunned’, ‘I was blown away’ attest to the capacity of certain experi -
ences to bring the mind’s activity to an end. In Buddhism the term ‘nirvana’,  
used in reference to the cessation of the mind’s activity in meditation, lit -
erally means ‘blown out’. In such moments – timeless moments, for in the  
absence of mind, there is no time – the mind’s essential nature of peace and  
joy shines forth. Shortly after I met Francis, in the mid- 1990 s, we began to host retreats for  
him at our home in Shropshire. Once a year we would clear out the barns  
which housed my studio and convert them to a temporary retreat space . On one such occasion, a firing of the kiln was finished the evening before  
the retreat was due to start. The following morning I woke early to the sound  
of stones on my bedroom window and the distressed cry of Kofi, my assis -
tant, below. The barns were ablaze. One of the rafters above the kiln had caught fire, and, the building being  
some three hundred years old, it did not take long for it to be engulfed in  
flames. A couple of hours later, Francis’s wife Laura called me from Barce -
lona, where she and Francis were about to board a flight to the UK, in time  
for the beginning of the retreat that evening. By that time three fire engines were tackling the blaze and numerous  
local residents had gathered in the yard between the house and the barns. I described the scene to Laura, and after a brief pause she responded, ‘Oh, how  
interesting! Be aware of the slightest impulse in you to change anything about  
your current circumstance. See you soon!’  
     Later that morning, sitting on a low wall in front of the house, watching  
the now smoking embers of the roof, I felt that I was resting on an ocean  
of peace. Whether it was in response to Laura’s words or simply that the  
magnitude of the situation was such that it was impossible to resist, I do  
not know. 119you are the happiness you seek
     Suffice it to say that there was not the slightest resistance in me. Without  
having made any effort, I simply found myself completely open, without re -
sistance, utterly and spontaneously surrendered to the moment. As a result,  
the innate peace of my true nature was felt in the background of experience,  
in spite of the chaos in the foreground. Later I would learn to go there con -
sciously, but for now it felt like a gift. This attitude of surrender is echoed by Utpaladeva, one of the great sages  
and poets of the tradition of Kashmir Shaivism, who had a beautiful and  
simple prayer: ‘Due to immersion in You, may I be free of desires for any -
thing but what is; may I be utterly filled with delight, considering every thing  
and being I see as consisting only of You’. *  
     As an expression of our true nature, this prayer of supplication becomes,  
‘I, awareness, knowing the fullness of my own being, am completely free  
from the desire to change my current experience. I am open without prefer -
ence and choice to all experience, and thus experience has lost the capacity  
to deprive me of my innate peace and joy.’  
     I once knew an elderly man who had lost his three infant sons. He was  
one of the most open-minded, joyful, warm-hearted people I have ever met. This happened early on in his adult life, and he was faced with a stark choice:  
to resist the experience, allow his heart to close, and become small-minded,  
embittered and miserable, or to surrender completely to the experience and  
allow the pain of it to fully open his heart. His entire life would depend on  
his choice, and he chose the latter. He realised that it was not the circumstance itself that had the power to  
give or deny happiness, but rather his response to it. He simply made the  
choice to open without resistance to his experience, and as a result, the peace  
and happiness that lay latent within him was revealed, and indeed overflowed  
and communicated itself to everyone with whom he came in contact. It was  
almost impossible to remain closed in his presence, so contagious was his  
happiness and enthusiasm. In the absence of this understanding, we will tend to blame the object, situ -
ation or person for our suffering. By investing our circumstances with the  
120* Christopher Wallis, The Recognition Sutras: Illuminating a 1,000-Year-Old Spiritual Masterpiece   
(Mattamayura Press, 2017 ).the way of surrender
power to make us happy or unhappy, we are setting ourself against the entire  
universe. However, our current circumstances are the result of a chain of in -
numerable causes that, if we were able to trace them to their origin, would  
take us back to the Big Bang. The only other possibility is to embrace our current circumstances, to  
drop any resistance towards them and to fully align ourself with them. That  
only need take a moment and is fully within everyone’s capacity. It was for  
this reason that, when Krishnamurti was asked, towards the end of his life,  
if he had a last secret teaching, he simply replied, ‘My secret teaching is this:  
I don’t mind what happens’. If we invest others with the power to determine our happiness, we will  
always be negotiating experience in the hopes that it will conform to our  
idea of how it needs to be in order for us to be happy. Such a life will be one  
of constant struggle, punctuated by brief moments of relief when circum -
stances conform to our vision of how they should unfold. However, as the situation changes, as it inevitably will, these brief  
moments of respite in which our innate peace and joy is briefly felt will be 
eclipsed again, and the struggle will resume. It is for this reason that Henry  
David Thoreau observed that ‘The mass of men lead lives of quiet desper -
ation’. *  
     Even if, at times, circumstances do seem to cooperate with our search  
for happiness in them, we will, without realising it, be setting ourself up  
for future misery, for we will be inadvertently strengthening the belief that  
objective experience is responsible for our happiness. If we surrender our  
happiness to the vicissitudes of life, it is only a matter of time before the  
tide will turn. the dissolution of the mind  
 
T raditional cultures formalised the process of surrender by cultivating initiation  
rites often involving terrifying ordeals or tests of endurance that stretched the  
capacity of initiates well beyond their normal limits. In response to the ensuing  
fear of death, they had to access a depth in themselves that childhood had not  
thus far required, and which heralded the transition to adult life. 121* Henry David Thoreau, Civil Disobedience  (1849 ). you are the happiness you seek
     And what was adult life? A life in which the narrow concerns of the indi -
vidual were subsumed in, and informed by, the felt understanding of their  
relationship with the whole. A life in which a person understood and felt that  
they shared their being with all people, all animals and all things, and acted  
in a way that was consistent with, and an expression of, this understanding. In the Zen tradition, a blow from the master’s stick was considered an  
effective, if not rather primitive, means to the same end. A koan, or a ques -
tion whose purpose is to confound rather than encourage the rational mind,  
serves the same purpose. In contemplating, for example, the question ‘What  
is but does not exist?’, the mind’s inability to raise a single thought in re -
sponse leaves it open and silent, and in that space the light of awareness is  
revealed. Indeed, all religious and spiritual traditions have their own repertoire of  
skilful means whose purpose is to dissolve or expand the boundary of the  
finite mind and reveal its infinite, impersonal essence. Recognising that the ego or sense of separation is aggrandised when its  
object-seeking tendencies are gratified, some of these traditions seek to curtail  
its activities through discipline, renunciation and asceticism, ranging from  
moderation and self-restraint to more extreme practices of self-denial. However, the Tantric traditions recognised desire not only as a means by  
which the ego or sense of separation may perpetuate and enhance itself but  
also as a means by which our longing may be returned to its source. In this  
case, the practitioner may surf a wave of desire all the way back to the shore  
of awareness, where she will be gently deposited. Intensely pleasurable experiences can thus be considered to contain within  
them the same capacity as unpleasant ones to bring the mind’s habitual ac -
tivity to an end, and may, therefore, also be cultivated as spiritual practices. Leaving aside the fine line between indulgence and transcendence, this  
tradition recognised that any experience can be a portal to one’s true nature,  
warning only that one should not be seduced by pleasant experiences into  
stopping short of full and lasting happiness. As Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj said, ‘Increase and widen your desires until  
nothing but reality can fulfil them’. *  That is, do not be satisfied with fleeting  
122* Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj, I Am That  (Acorn Press, 2012  rev.). the way of surrender
moments or periods of happiness. Seek nothing less than lasting happiness,  
and understand that lasting happiness can only be found in that which lasts. surrendering the illusory self  
 
Sometimes I feel as if everything in my life has been encouraging me to make  
this investigation into the nature of myself, but at the same time I’m afraid of it. It’s a threat not only to my identity but to my way of life. For most people, their interest in these matters, and their willingness to  
explore their experience in this way, is initiated by reading a book, watching  
a video, hearing a talk or having a conversation with a friend. However,  
it may also happen that one’s circumstances conspire to initiate this process  
without any interest on their part. In this case, the sudden loss of one’s cus -
tomary identity, even if only temporarily, may be accompanied by great fear. In extreme cases, it may feel like dying. Indeed, it is a kind of death! But  
it is not the death of our self; it is the dissolution of an illusory self: an image,  
an idea, a feeling. It is the disentanglement of our self from the elements of  
experience with which we previously identified: thoughts, memories, history,  
activities, relationships, and so on. In the absence of the familiar objects and experiences with which we nor -
mally identify ourself, this unsolicited plunge into our true nature may also  
be disorientating and we may shrink from it, preferring our old identity in  
spite of the suffering that inevitably accompanies it. However, such an experience is like a crack in our familiar sense of  
ourself. We may plaster it over, through fear of the unknown, with strategies  
that once worked well for us, but we will never be the same again, nor will  
the strategies be as effective as they once were, or at least seemed to be. In quiet moments, when the mind is open and unfocused, we may be  
disturbed by the memory of an unknown but strangely familiar presence  
within, inviting us in an unknown direction to which we still seem to have  
no access. It is also possible that the outer form of our life, which may have served  
us well thus far, begins to fall apart, without any corresponding intuition or  
revelation of our true nature. The old has broken down but the new has not  
yet emerged. In the absence of the correct interpretation, we may feel hopeless . 123you are the happiness you seek
     Previously we would have shrunk from the uncertainty of this new possi -
bility on the brink of which we stand, and reached for the known, the familiar,  
the secure. However, in this case the known has lost its credibility. There is  
no way forward: the future is an abyss and the present unbearable. For some  
of us this crisis will initiate the return journey into the depths of our being;  
for others it may lead to a life of resignation, hopelessness or despair. Once, while attending a retreat with Francis and staying with him and  
Laura at their home in southern California, I had a dream. It was the night  
before the final day of the retreat, and in the dream, it was also the last  
day of  a retreat with Francis, but in a different house. It was a large house  
with many rooms, and I was looking everywhere for Francis to say goodbye  
to him. Eventually I came upon a small room, dark because it had no windows,  
in the centre of the house. As I entered from a door in one corner of the  
room, Francis entered through a door in the opposite corner. We met in the  
middle and embraced. I rubbed his back with one of my hands – a gesture  
he would often make when saying goodbye to me – and said, ‘Thank you,  
thank you, thank you!’  
     I was standing on tiptoes and, feeling a little unstable, reached out be -
hind me for a rail to steady myself. At that moment, a voice inside said  
clearly, ‘Don’t hold on to anything you know’. I let go of the rail and our  
two bodies dissolved into one another. When our bodies re-emerged, he  
said to me, ‘When speaking to people, remember to tell them who it is that  
bears the light’. So you can give yourself entirely to this understanding. It is not necessary  
to worry about the effect it will have on your life. All you will lose is your  
unhappiness on the inside and your conflicts on the outside. As you no  
longer separate yourself from everyone and everything, you will most likely  
find that the universe begins to cooperate with you rather than seeming to  
frustrate you. You will find yourself leading a creative, productive life, without feeling  
that you did anything particular to bring it about. In fact, you didn’t! You  
simply ceased separating yourself from the rest of the universe and thus  
allowed the universe to fulfil its purpose though you. 124chapter sixteen
Take Refuge in the Now
The Master arrives without leaving,  
sees the light without looking,  
achieves without doing a thing. lao tzu  
 
the addiction to thinking  
 
Resistance to our current experience varies in degree from a mild sense of  
boredom, expectation or lack, which barely registers on the scale of suffering,  
to intense aversion. In most cases, our suffering takes place on a scale between  
these two possibilities. However, irrespective of the intensity of our suffering, we are in almost  
all cases motivated to avoid it through the acquisition of objects, substances,  
activities, circumstances or relationships. Our avoidance, in turn, varies in  
intensity from addiction to substances and activities at one end of the spec -
trum to the comparatively benign activity of compulsive thinking at the  
other. In each case, the purpose of the activity is solely to distract us from  
the discomfort of our current experience. Drugs, tobacco, alcohol, excessive eating and over-working are some  
of the most common means that suffice for this purpose. Even spiritual  
practice can be appropriated by the separate self or ego to perpetuate the  
activity of seeking and resisting which characterise its illusory identity. However, by far the most ubiquitous means of avoidance is compulsive  
thinking. Many of the more obvious and extreme means by which we avoid the  
discomfort of our current experience are bad for our health and, in some  
cases, illegal. However, excessive thinking is neither bad for our health,  
at least not overtly so, nor illegal, and is thus the default avenue of escape  
for most people. you are the happiness you seek
     Indeed, thinking seems so innocuous that most people are not even aware  
that it is one of the main ways we avoid the sense of lack. For this reason,  
it has escaped diagnosis as one of the most successful ways we subtly per -
petuate it. However, when we are determined to find the real cause of our  
suffering, we become increasingly sensitive to the more or less subtle means  
by which we escape it. There are, of course, many legitimate reasons for thinking – a response  
to the current situation, planning for the future, evaluating the past, scientific  
endeavour, investigative or celebratory purposes, and creativity are amongst  
them – but most thinking serves none of these. Its purpose is simply to take  
us away from the discomfort of our current experience. If we take any train of thought and ask of it, ‘Where are you going and  
why?’ the response will often be, ‘I am venturing into the past or future in  
order to avoid having to face the discomfort of my present circumstance’. In this way, most people believe that in order to find the peace and happi -
ness for which they long they must reject their current experience, which is  
deemed insufficient, and venture into the past or future, which seem to hold  
the promise of fulfilment. Ironically, our suffering begins  the moment we escape  
from our current experience into an imagined future or a remembered past. In fact, if we want relief from our suffering, all that is required is to return  
from our happiness-seeking adventure in the past and future and come back  
to our current experience. We must return to the now. Where previously we  
sought to escape from our present suffering into a future which we believed  
held the promise of happiness, instead we take refuge in the now, the only  
place suffering cannot stand. In this way we find, at the very heart of our  
experience, the happiness we previously sought by avoiding it. Many of our thoughts arise for the purpose of controlling the events of  
our life so that they will produce exactly the conditions that we believe are  
required for us to experience lasting peace and joy. However, our current circumstances are the growing edge of millions of  
years of evolution. For instance, the behaviour of a friend, partner or colleague  
is the product of centuries of conditioning. What are the chances that these cir -
cumstances are going to coincide with our personal expectations and demands? The only reason we are not at peace and filled with joy now is that cir -
cumstances do not conform to our idea of how they should be. One who  
126take refuge in the now
understands this aligns what they want with what they have, rather than try -
ing to conform what they have to what they want. Suffering is never imposed on us; it is our own activity of seeking and  
resisting. Happiness can never be acquired by us; it is our own nature. there are no problems  
 
Circumstances never announce themselves as problematic. They simply  
present themselves. From the perspective of awareness, there are situations;  
for the ego, there are problems.
You-are-the-Happiness-You-Seek-Rupert-Spira.txt
Summarize the following text section accurately and concisely. Maintain specific details and numerical information, and use anti-repetition mechanisms:

        The time and  
space that seem to exist for the character in a dream do not exist for the  
dreamer when she wakes up. The entire dream is a movement of the  
dreamer’s mind, but the dreamer’s mind never goes anywhere. Our entire  
life is a movement of awareness, but awareness itself never goes anywhere. Awareness is eternally present now – not now, a moment in time, but the  
ever-present now, eternity. Awareness is always in the placeless place of itself,  
not a place in space but the dimensionless presence of its own being. Some people seem to get more youthful and radiant as they get older. Yes. In fact, many people feel that in spite of the passing years they are not  
really growing older. They increasingly have the feeling of being always the  
same person. Where does this feeling come from. It can only come from  
that which is always the same in us. What is that. Knowing, being aware or awareness itself is the only element of experience  
that always remains the same. The feeling that we never get older or that we  
have always been the same person is an intuition of this truth. In fact, it is 
more than an intuition; it is the taste of our eternity, the taste of our ever-
present, ageless, changeless, untarnished self. The more deeply this is understood and felt, the more brightly the innate  
qualities of our essential, aware being shine through the character of the per -
son, infusing the mind and body with its radiance and peace, and shedding  
its warmth upon those with whom we come in contact. In old age, as the  
mind and body of such a person fade, they become increasingly transparent  
to their being, which in turn progressively shines through all aspects of their  
experience. It is a blessing simply to be with such people. But I am regularly in pain. There may be intense sensations, but do not allow the intensity of a sensation  
to persuade you that you are a body, let alone an ageing one. But I am unwell more and more often. 97you are the happiness you seek
Does awareness ever say, ‘I am sick’. Does the body ever say, ‘I am sick’. No. It is the mind that claims, ‘I am sick’. But even that claim is just a  
thought. Can a thought be sick. Can a sensation or a perception be sick.
Our true nature of awareness, which is always and already present.
According to the text, what is the ultimate source of happiness?
Our own resistance to and seeking of experiences, which is triggered by our conditioned layer of likes and dislikes.
What is the primary cause of suffering?
Recognizing that our happiness is not dependent on external circumstances, and instead, surrendering to the present moment.
What is the key to understanding and experiencing lasting happiness?
Because they are seeking it in external sources, which is a futile and ultimately frustrating endeavor.
Why do people often struggle to find happiness and peace?
Stopping the resistance to our current experience and embracing it with an open and non-judgmental attitude.
What is the key to ending the cycle of seeking and resisting?