Annular eclipse 1In direct experience, it’s clear that this whole cosmic show is “not two.” No apparent thing can exist on its own; all apparent objects are interconnected–whether hard objects, such as planets and trees and squirrels who dash by my office, or soft objects, like thoughts and feelings. All ways, one undivisible whole.

So why is it, that self-care falls away? I steadily care for my lovely husband, our adult son who suffers from chronic pain, our elderly lame dog. Yet days can go by where I disregard aerobic exercise, stretching out and strengthening my overused shoulders, and fail remember to swallow supplements in support of those very shoulders. Stranger still, I neglect writing–the very source of passion and focus in my life.

Somehow, this neglect points to a subtle sense of separation–a “them” (worthwhile) and an “us” (to be taken for granted). As a dear friend-who-points in Eugene would say, “just to notice.”

© Amrita Skye Blaine, 2013
photo credit: Annular eclipse by NASA (link unavailable due to government shutdown…)

dividing and separation

Amrita's hand smallerOur minds are generally busy dividing experience into the particular; this is the mind’s nature. We cannot expect our minds to stop particularizing. They won’t! However, this kind of division is very different from creating separation, and this is an important distinction to understand.

Look at your hand, for example. You see, most likely–although not on my left hand–five individual fingers, all attached to the same hand. They move independently of one another, and yet, the fingers are not separate from the hand, are not separate from the body, are not separate from all that nourishes them.

We may simply notice the particular, yet rest in the not-twoness that is, and is evermore.


© Amrita Skye Blaine, 2013

photo credit: uh, that would be my very old looking hand.