Category Archives: Truth

fence lines

fence lines

note to self

tear them down
your fence lines of the heart
snap the planks in half
smack them on your knee
pitch them on the pile

strike a match
set the heap ablaze
fan it hard until it rages high
stand back and watch those

fence lines burn
in the conflagration
your heart is set on fire

with thanks to Rebecca Evert for the title line

2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
disclaimer: I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—they may never turn into anything more, or they might flower.

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abidance

abidance
note to self

remain with—
dwell in—
endure—
hold steadfast—
life exacts all four

remain with
yourself
at all times
feel everything
that needs to be felt

dwell in
pure consciousness
rest there
notice and open
to what is

endure
what life tosses
your way
hurt and joy
often both at once

hold steadfast
there is no other
way to survive
planet earth
love one another

2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine

disclaimer: I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—they may never turn into anything more, or they might flower. Some are clumsy; forgive me.

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the great unconformity

(yes, it’s a scientific thing)

the great unconformity

a vast internal
abrupt uprising and shift
fourteen years ago
from the outside
all seemed the same
but beliefs fell away
gone not to return

what looked out of
these eyes was
wholly impersonal
and not in time
experience ended
fragrance remains

continually
reoriented
and reorienting
paradox
lived and breathed
wonder thrives

a time gap in
cliff formations
almost a billion years
missing
what happened back then?
are my continents merging?

2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine

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no better work

when the weight
of Being
feels
too heavy

drop
into the well
listen
absorb
abide

savor and
accept
the hard bits
discovered

in the abyss
of yourself
befriend and
cherish the good

weep if you can

© Amrita Skye Blaine 2022

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bagging gold

it’s human instinct
hold close what we value

except for this gold,
our primary knowing,
there is no “it”
no touch
no taste
no sound
no sight
no smell
yet the gold remains

because…
gold is all there is


© Amrita Skye Blaine

 

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Rest

Rest

I need rest…
in the placeless place,
prior,
where this splendid, messy
chaos called life erupts

to let the background—
that big field of knowing
behind all manifest things,
slip into my mind’s foreground
filling it to spillover
easing friends,
known and unknown, as well

May I rest in its caress,
a hammock, a porch swing,
a safety net,
I surrender to the sway
that smooths and soothes
my disquiet and concern

take a cleansing breath,
recall the eternal and infinite,
forever and always—
this peace is present
right here
right now

© Amrita Skye Blaine

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prime question #3

Prime questions have become creative play for me–new ways to reflect on the truth. I call them prime questions because they remind me of prime numbers, a number only divisible by itself or by one.

Look at our own experience–

  • our thoughts vanish,
  • our feelings fade,
  • bodily sensations arise and pass away,
  •  our perceptions–sights, sounds, smells, tastes, textures–all are equally transient. We shift our gaze, and what we were looking at before disappears; what we hear changes moment by moment; smells are even more ephemeral–unless it’s skunk, and even that eventually dissipate. Tastes are hard to nail down–I notice this each time I suck on a square of dark, salty, caramel chocolate. Gone, so quickly. And textures? We only feel them while we’re touching them.

Even planets come and go.

Look now: what doesn’t change?

 

© Amrita Skye Blaine

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eddies and whirlpools – redux

eddiesImagine—we’re floating down a gentle river in inner tubes on a blazing July afternoon. Our butts hang in the cool water, the tube surfaces are warm—growing hotter where the water does not splash on them—and the sun beats down on the exposed parts of our bodies.

Then, abruptly, a whirlpool catches your inner tube, and for a little bit, the tube is spun in place in the river, and you are seemingly separated from the main flow—then the whirlpool disperses, and off the ride goes again.

A while later, an eddy pulls my tube into a bend—a quiet nook in the river—and now I appear to be independent of the main flow. Then the eddy gives way, and the tube rocks a bit until the current grabs it and pulls me back into the main body of the river.

We are always one with the river, but seemingly separated at times. What a delicious metaphor for awareness and embodiment. Awareness is the river—always there, always alive and flowing. The whirlpools and eddies are embodiments—where for a little while, we show up on the planet; we look separate, we may feel separate, but we are never separated—or independent—for one instant from the grand flow that we are.

Then the body dissipates just like the eddy back into that from whence it came, and once again, only one awareness, one river.

Amrita Skye Blaine, 2015
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my memoir has been published!

My book, Bound to Love: a memoir of grit and gratitude has been published! Both the paperback and Kindle versions can be found here, at Amazon. Other digital versions can be found at Smashwords.

Usually my posts here have a different flavor, exploring nondual understanding. The memoir chronicles the pressure cooker journey that drove me toward unwrapping this deeper truth. Perhaps, without my son Thom, I would not have. I am very grateful.

Front cover with white text justifiedThe memoir won first prize in the Pacific Northwest Writers Association 2005 contest under the name Blood Bond. That was a very bad time to market memoirs, I discovered, because of James Frey’s betrayal of the form in A Million Little Pieces when he exaggerated his personal story, and was exposed.

I let my manuscript molder on my computer for seven years, then pulled it out and walked it through two more critique groups.

Bound to Love is the true story of a single mother who encountered and navigated a complicated nightmare for any parent. My child, the only child I could ever bear, was born with a life-threatening congenital heart defect, and suffered a more brutal health diagnosis soon after. Walk with me as I birth the courage and grit to meet Thom’s compounding challenges.

© Amrita Skye Blaine, 2015

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I have a plan

planHow many times have we said, “I have a plan” over our lifetime?

When we approach life with a plan, there is always some part of us to improve, to correct, to change.

I remember that I always had an idea of what events, relationships, or even my hair styles would look like, but they never turned out the way the mind envisioned. I had self-improvement schemes, too. For example, if I were kind enough, other people would be kind in return. Not necessarily so…

I no longer live with a plan. However it is, is how it is. This makes this wild experience we call life much simpler and easier. Much less stress, resistance, and drama.

Not having a plan makes life interesting right now, because I’m taking a year-long real estate course where I’m required to make a business plan. Which, of course, I will–because I’ve committed to completing this course. I will put close attention to what they ask of us, and attend to the details. But do I “believe” in it? Do I really believe I have individual control over my life? No longer–because this is so obviously not “my” life. I’ve spent hundreds of hours noticing, and I cannot find a “doer.” And yet doing happens, and life continues to unfold. Occasionally events even turn out in a pleasing way. Just as often, they do not.

I soaked in the hot tub tonight. Abruptly, the body-mind stood, and stepping out of the tub, wrapped up in a towel. There was no plan–or even the premonition of a thought–of leaving the warmth of the tub at that moment. And yet it occurred. I slipped into bed, looking forward to deep rest before an apparently very busy day tomorrow. Forty-five minutes later, I found myself sliding my feet into slippers, wrapping up in a hoodie, and returning to the computer.

Do I have any sense of when writing will stop, and I’ll return to bed? No idea at all. Perhaps writing will go on all night. Perhaps, a couple of minutes from now, the body will put itself back in bed. Whichever occurs, or something else completely unforeseen–I’m sure to be surprised by whatever shows up. That’s part of the delight of living now–it’s all so surprising.

© Amrita Skye Blaine, 2013
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