Brahman, in the Advaita Vedanta tradition, stands as the ever-present ground of everything—unchanging, infinite consciousness that makes the play of the universe possible. It’s often described through the Upanishadic formula Sat-Chit-Ananda (Being-Consciousness-Bliss), capturing that this ultimate reality isn’t some distant deity up in the clouds, but the very essence pulsating beneath every thought, every star and every leaf.

Rather than a defined “thing,” Brahman slips through the fingers of language—neti neti, “not this, not that,” insists the classic teaching. Like the Wi-Fi network powering countless devices but never showing up in any gadget’s specs, Brahman underlies the ever-shifting world of names and forms (mithyā). Attributes come and go—joy, sorrow, life, death—but the substratum stays put, untouched by time or change.

Modern glimpses of quantum fields and cosmic origin stories—even NASA’s Webb Telescope revealing galaxies born at the dawn of time—echo that sense of one foundational reality shooting sparks of diversity. In everyday life, the idea of oneness might click like discovering a hidden smartphone hotspot: it was always there, quietly connecting everything.

When the mind stops grasping and sees the play of phenomena as reflections in an infinite mirror, the veil of separation dissolves. Brahman isn’t another “object” to seek; recognizing it is more like realizing the stage doesn’t exist apart from the play. Once that spark of awareness lights up, the world’s chatter settles—and the timeless truth, never lost, simply shines.