Category Archives: Advaita

life is buzzing

bee hive 2Have you ever seen a swarm of bees? They are all so busy being. Bee-ing! That is how life is right now–high activity, all clumped together, tasks jumbled on top of one another. Paint around the shower, replace medicine cabinets, vacuum before the carpet guys arrive, instruct them about the specifics, cut shelf covering just the right size, refinish the old cabinets–but how? Find curtains, order blinds… the list feels endless, and that is a story this pattern has created.

We moved three and a half weeks ago, and then prepared the previous home to go on the market. That’s enough!

But now we are renovating a condo for my son, who is returning to California after twenty years away. It is obviously the right condo, and it showed up at what the mind would like to say is just the wrong time. That is a story as well.

Life unfolds. End of story. Wanting it to be one way or another is a prescription for suffering. Noticing how it is–with innocent curiosity–returns me home, to the home that will not move, disappear, or change. Dependable. Home.

© Amrita Skye Blaine, 2013

1 Comment

Filed under Advaita, Daily reminders, Non-duality

moving… or not?

In the world of appearances, we have moved–our address has changed, our home layout is different, our belongings are finding new resting places. I have established yet another spoon drawer in this kitchen, and a drawer with items that have holes (strainers, steamers, grater, colander).

But what has moved, really? This-that-we-are, this that never leaves and is ever-present, doesn’t move. This bright and radiant no-thing remains ever radiant and bright. All the rest comes and goes.

We can depend on that.

© Amrita Skye Blaine, 2013

1 Comment

Filed under Advaita, Daily reminders

naked presence

bridge and bright skyWhat is it that is so compelling about the spiritual journey? It dragged me further and further from the root of myself.

For thirty-eight years, I searched desperately to find something that felt truly and deeply sacred. Convinced that I would recognize this something when it showed up, I prayed, meditated, chanted, and tried to be the very best person that I could. I read deep books, and struggled to learn.

If only I were good enough. There must be something inherently wrong with me. Clearly, I wasn’t worthy.

But-this-that-we-are could not possibly be an object. Objects, or the multitudes of manifested stuff that the Buddhists call “the ten thousand things,” come and go. The truly sacred could not possibly show up and dissolve–I knew in my heart that it must be what I imagined as permanent ground.

But even “permanent ground” is a misunderstanding, because permanent must imply the opposite, impermanent. That which is truly sacred–that which is beyond names–has no opposites, and is outside of time; it is both eternal and infinite.

I have never met Nirmala, but he set me straight one afternoon in Boulder, Colorado, August, 2009. I was resting in a motel room and picked his book, Nothing Personal, out of my back pack. I started at the beginning. Around page five, I read this sentence, and it brought me to a full stop: “So, what else is present right here, right now, besides sensations, experiences, thoughts, feelings, and ‘you’–that doesn’t  come and go?”

Thirty eight years on a spiritual path, and I had never questioned this before. I reread the sentence four or five times. Then I put the book down on the bed, and turned inward to examine my experience. The best description of my state is beginner’s mind–I looked freshly, without anticipating what I might find.

And… there “it” was. Alive, naked presence. Untouchable, unfindable as an object. But it seemed obvious that naked presence has always been my constant companion. This thought arose, “Really?!” Chuckling erupted.

For months, I checked tens of times a day. Still here? Still with me? And finally, the checking, the questioning, stopped. Naked presence cannot be lost. Certain states of mind may veil this-that-isn’t-an-it, but presence is wholly dependable.

I couldn’t lose this if I tried. It is both unfindable and unloseable.

I remain an unnamed vessel of vast grateful-ing.

© Amrita Skye Blaine, 2013
photo credit: the beautiful blog, Barnstorming. Check it out.


Filed under Advaita, Daily reminders


refinish wood floors 3During our home renovation, I’ve paid close attention when apparent obstacles arise.

My tack is different these days. Instead of resisting, I soften, and get very curious. Perhaps what is presenting is not an obstacle after all, but a moment to review, perhaps change course, and see what else is opening.

Yesterday, Bob, the flooring guy, let us know while we were confirming dates for next week that rather than starting on Monday, he couldn’t begin hardwood repairs until Wednesday. The initial plan had been to repair the red oak floor in the kitchen, and then refinish the kitchen and all the hallways prior to laying carpet in the bedrooms, living room, and family room. We are on a specific schedule–we want to move and have a week to get settled before my husband has minor surgery and is laid up for a bit. My old pattern would have been to tighten and resist change, to worry, and fret, to lie awake at night, to envision hopeless outcomes–all that energy spent on an imaginary future that may not come to pass.

Instead, a kind of  inner space opened up. Out of that emptiness, a new plan seemed possible–lay the carpet on Monday, and tape off entryways to the living and family rooms that don’t have doors to reduce the sanding dust on the new carpet. My husband realized the swap opens Tuesday for other small finishing tasks–perhaps Alan the furnace guy, or Scott the electrician can use that available time. This way, we can remain on schedule to move August 1st. Bob blustered a bit about the change in the order of his work, but his blustering is his, not mine. Once he saw that a bit of dust on the carpet didn’t concern me–I surely know how to vacuum–he was able to soften as well.

These skilled tradespeople are awareness in a different, beautiful skin; we are truly not-two. When I knowingly live that, they meet me there.

© Amrita Skye Blaine, 2013
photo credit


Filed under Advaita, Daily reminders, Non-duality

start right here

laughing horse and girlStart right here, fresh. As often as you can. This moment is unique, unrepeatable, and gone in a flash. Enjoy it now! We could be dead tomorrow.

Your mind will grab you away–I guarantee it; that’s the mind’s nature. Not to worry. Each time you notice, simply come back here where life actually happens.

The texture of the steering wheel while driving, the pressure of my foot on the pedals. When I’m swinging, the breeze whishing from the back of my head past my ears to the front when I swing backward; the air kissing my face and my ears as I swing backward. I surely do not want to miss those sensations.

Anything in the imagined future can wait. All that happened in the past is gone. This precious moment–quiet house, computer hum, after midnight, ears ringing, keyboard clicking, eyelids heavy.

© Amrita Skye Blaine, 2013
photo credit

Leave a comment

Filed under Advaita, Daily reminders, Non-duality

the thin line

Feeling downI am watching my son grieve the loss of his partner, Bill. I am stunned by the grace by which he faces this grief. He meets it daily as he takes on tasks completely new to him: calling people to break the news, helping to give away his partner’s belongings, choosing a few special items to keep himself. And those acute moments where he turns to tell Bill something–only to remember that he is gone. I clearly remember my mother going through that after my father’s fatal heart attack.

I cannot relieve my son’s pain. I can only love him unconditionally, and listen with care when he needs to talk. Or wail. Or have moments of anger that Bill didn’t attend to the clear symptoms that something was amiss.

Here we are in this raw, tender vessel called life–one big living, dying, birthing, exploding wonder. Awareness, seemingly playing out in this field called manifestation, yet never taking form, or changing form, at all.

© Amrita Skye Blaine, 2013
photo credit


Filed under Advaita, Daily reminders


our porch swingRight now, life is filled with a high level of activity. We are working with contractors and sub-contractors, and at the same time, cleaning, clearing, and mending this neglected property back to life ourselves.

This morning, we pulled nails and spackled holes with filler.
I wielded a web catcher under the eaves, sweeping away silky spider cocoons and three decades of dust.

Every day, there are many apparent choices to be made for the house–this week, the choices involve lighting fixtures, and the placement of outlets and circuits.

The most puzzling has been selecting a color for the interior walls. Four samples painted, reviewed, and discussed. Laguna Beach has won.

Then we realized that because of termite damage requiring new siding in various places, we need to also paint the exterior. We returned to Kelly Moore Paints yet again–avoiding the 8 AM contractor rush–because the exterior will not be repainted the nondescript taupe that it currently is.

In addition, we are responding to the real estate needs of our clients during a hot market–always learning a new chunk about the process–and we attend broker, office, and client meetings. And there is more–seemingly endless activity.

However, I have rediscovered a joy from half-century ago. If you cannot find Amrita, go outside and peer toward the patio swing. You’ll find her there, mindlessly swinging and grinning, lost in the sensations of weightlessness, breezes, and sunshine. Today, the neighborhood murder of crows gathered in a large cluster, fussing and complaining–a natural auditory delight as well.

Come to think of it, I hear more when I swing. The mind goes quiet, and the gobbles of wild turkeys in the field next door springs into the foreground.

© Amrita Skye Blaine, 2013
photo credit


Filed under Advaita, Daily reminders, Musings