One of the key realizations for those on the spiritual path is that there is no perfection in the relative world. In fact, in many of the great contemplative traditions, the world of time, space, and differentiation can be, and often is, defined by the quality of suffering inherent in its every manifestation. And yet, within most spiritual seekers is an impulse that tells them that there is something about their experience that is indeed Perfect, Complete, Whole. But what is it?

Spiritual teachers help students find and recognize that ever-present, radical Wholeness, and choosing a teacher is often one of the most important steps on a student’s spiritual journey. But even though a teacher may be a conscious, explicit expression of timeless Spirit, it’s fairly meaningless to say that someone is a “perfect” teacher, because perfection really only means anything in terms of the Great Perfection of the entire Whole itself. From that perspective, you could vomit on your student and it would be a perfect teaching lesson, literally—but that doesn’t really tell us anything that useful, does it?

This dialogue is a profound exploration of the things that do tell us something useful. For example, enlightenment is not an all-or-nothing affair, and percentage can help explain why. If 51% of one’s identity has shifted to the Great Perfection, that means that 49% of one’s identity is still subject to the bumps, bruises, and vicissitudes of relative imperfection. Even if one has awakened to the ever-present Witness that persists, 24 hours a day, throughout waking, dreaming, and deep-sleep states, that realization is going to be expressed though a vehicle—a human form—that has developed certain habits, structures, and modes of being that have their own relative peculiarities and faults.

Entering into a student-teacher relationship is a voluntary action, and as strange as it may seem, many people appear to forget that. What is also often forgotten is that the only reason one would enter into a formal relationship with a teacher is because, in terms of enlightened awareness, you trust their judgment more than your own. You believe that they see something clearer than you, and you want them to help you see what they see. You are asking that they judge the quality of your understanding, which, in a postmodern culture of pluralistic sensitivity, is a pretty unique request.

When teachers go about fulfilling the role they have been asked to perform, and point out the ways that students are contracting in the face of Infinity, students can get a little cranky; which is fine. Everyone has bad days. But when students respond in a fundamentally self-righteous manner, it would serve them to remember that they requested to be in this relationship.

On the other hand, a teaching mandate doesn’t give teachers absolute power or absolve them from the responsibility to use skillful means in their communication. Nor does it remove them from assuming responsibility for the lingering faults in their relative personality, which no teacher is without. Even great teachers can, and will, make mistakes. It’s up to students to decide whether the perceived benefits of working with a given teacher are worth the risk of unnecessary rug-burns due to the teacher’s imperfections, and it’s up to teachers to be conscientious and discriminating in the application of the power they have been given. All relationships entail mutual responsibility, and this fact is perhaps amplified in the student-teacher relationship.

But since all teachers, without exception, have faults, and a fault is by definition something you either don’t notice or can’t change, then responsibility for dealing with a teacher’s faults lies primarily with students. At the same time, the best you can hope for from a teacher is a frank acknowledgment of shortcomings and a fair warning to students. More than that, a student will not get and should not expect. Less than that, and find a new teacher. Buyer beware, is the ancient, good advice here.

Andrew and Ken go on to speak about how second-tier, integral stages of development are not themselves explicitly spiritual, but rather the “base camp” for a third-tier realization of genuinely spiritual stages from the illumined mind to the overmind to supermind, to give one example. Integral “from the outside” simply learns the maps created at second tier, but integral “from the inside” uses those maps to help push into and navigate the territory of third tier—namely, Spirit. Every stage is more integral than what came before, and so a truly integral impulse never rests upon one moment in history; Spirit-in-action pushes forward, always.