Rinu George

I’m Rinu George — not a guide, not a teacher, just a seeker.
Over fifty years of living — and fifteen years of intentional seeking — I’ve explored the mind, questioned conditioning, learned from nature, and observed how perception shapes suffering.

Back to You is my simple and earnest attempt to share the insights that helped me — and that, through many honest casual conversations, also helped several of my friends find clarity.

This space isn’t about belief — it’s about seeing.
If you’re willing to look within, even a little, you may discover a quieter, clearer way to live.

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About Me

I, Rinu George, do not consider myself a guide or a teacher. I don’t feel worthy of those labels, and I don’t want them.
But over fifty years of living — and fifteen years of intentional seeking — I’ve gathered certain insights.
Not from any one path, but from observing life, the mind, and both my own patterns and the patterns of others with as much honesty as I could.

Along the way, I’ve shared these understandings with friends and acquaintances in simple conversations about their struggles.
Many of them found these small nuggets of clarity helpful.
Some overcame long-standing issues.
Some shifted their perception completely.
A few even changed their lives in ways far beyond what I’ve managed for myself.

Reaching midlife made me realize something simple: I should document what I’ve learned — not for fame, not for followers, but so someone out there, someone I may never meet, might benefit the way my friends and I did.

This space was built for that reason alone.

Who I Am

Most people introduce themselves with titles. I’ve never felt comfortable with those.

If you ask me who I am, I will simply say:
I’m a seeker.

Not a teacher.
Not a guru.
Not an expert.
Just someone who keeps looking.

I prefer saying “I do not know” when something cannot be understood through the limited range of my senses or intellect.

This isn’t ignorance — it’s the beginning of real intelligence.

Over time, I’ve also found myself saying “You do not know” when someone presents a belief as absolute truth. It’s a gentle way of showing that confidence is not the same as clarity.

The moment you stop pretending you know everything, the mind relaxes, curiosity wakes up, and life becomes far larger than your conclusions.

My Journey

For the past fifty years, I’ve been exploring — not through one scripture or philosophy, but through many:

science
spirituality
mysticism
psychology
human behaviour
world religions
personal experience
silence
and nature

I observed how other lifeforms lived — how birds made decisions without overthinking,
how animals sensed danger without becoming anxious for hours,
how trees grew patiently without complaint.

Nature taught me lessons no text could teach: presence, simplicity, instinct, and balance.

Through all this exploration, I never clung to any camp because I saw something simple:

Every philosophy collapses if the mind reading it is confused.
Every spiritual teaching fails if the listener is trapped in their conditioning.
Every scientific concept becomes limited if the observer’s perception is narrow.

So instead of collecting answers, I studied the one thing common to all experience:
The Human Mind.

How it gathers.
How it reacts.
How it distorts perception.
How it creates suffering where none exists.
How it turns the past into the present.
How it shapes the world we think we’re seeing.

And then I realised something quietly radical:

You can know every scripture, follow every ritual, and memorise every scientific fact —
but unless you understand the mind using that information, nothing truly changes.

A Sense of Wonder

I’ve always known one thing clearly:

We perceive only a tiny slice of all that exists.
Our senses capture only a narrow band of reality.
Science repeatedly shows that most of the universe is invisible to us.

So when someone says, “I know how everything works,” it isn’t intelligence — it’s certainty built on limited data.

We live in a universe so big that our mind can barely hold the idea of it. Scientists say the part of the space we can observe is about 93 billion light-years across. Inside that space are billions of galaxies. Our own galaxy, the Milky Way, is just one of them — and even that one galaxy is so large that light would take a hundred thousand years to cross it.

Now zoom all the way down to Earth.

A tiny planet, circling an average star, in a small corner of one galaxy… inside an unthinkably huge universe.

And then zoom further — to you and me.

One human being, living on a small patch of land, with a brain that weighs less than two kilograms and some crippled senses to feed it.

When you look at it this way, it becomes almost funny how confidently we try to conclude “how everything works.” Our mind is so tiny compared to the scale of what exists. It can only sense a thin slice of reality, yet it tries to explain the whole.

Realising and remembering this doesn’t make life smaller — it makes our certainty softer, our curiosity bigger, and our seeking more honest.

I often watch how confidently people describe heaven, hell, karmic maps, or afterlife blueprints — as if they’ve personally toured each place.
We haven’t even understood this tiny slice of life fully — not the mind, not consciousness — yet we explain the next life with absolute authority.

It’s not belief that surprises me.
It’s the confidence. The stupidity.

For many years, I never questioned any of this.
My conditioning trained me to accept what I was told and silence the questions inside me.

But questions don’t disappear — they wait.

At some point, with life situations, maturity and courage, I finally allowed myself to ask.
And that simple permission opened a door I didn’t know existed.

And I must say this clearly:

My journey was shaped by many voices — books, teachers, philosophers, scientists —
but not one of them became my identity.
I took everything with openness, curiosity, and a pinch of salt.
Never blind belief.
Never allegiance.

Slowly, I realised:

No book can give you clarity if your mind is conditioned.
And no idea can mislead you if your mind is honest.

This freedom — to explore without being trapped — expanded my perception.
Not because I found some ultimate truth,
but because I stopped clinging to borrowed ones.

It saddens me that so many people never give themselves this chance.
They carry deep questions all their life but silence them out of fear or inherited loyalty. Or they pretend they know it all when a million questions out of their beliefs taunt them every second.

But once you allow yourself to seek honestly — not for comfort, not for belonging, not for validation — you discover something simple:

Life has layers you cannot see until you stop pretending you already know.

Why I Created This Space

Back to You is my attempt to share what I’ve discovered — not conclusions, but seeds:

Seeds that help you unlearn what isn’t yours
Seeds that show how your mind filters reality
Seeds that create space before reacting
Seeds that remind you to live consciously instead of mechanically
Seeds that bring you back to what is real

This is not about salvation after death.
This is about clarity while you’re alive.

This is fifty years of living and fifteen years of seeking — distilled into simple insights,
shared in the hope that something in you opens, loosens, or begins to wonder again.

The Doorway Back to You

If all this leads you to say:

“I don’t know…
but I want to see.”

Then you’ve already taken the first step.

And that step is enough to begin your journey…
back to you.