You may be aware of the flow,
but what do you know of the underflow?
If you’re like me,
you may subtly sense the underflow
as a “consequence” of being in the flow.
You may see your immersion
in the flow as an obsession.
You may worry
that the flow is pulling
you away from reality.
You may worry
about the perceptions
of others in regards
to what the flow
expresses through you.
The underflow is the backlash
you unintentionally imagine
as one with the flow.
Interpreted as a negative,
the underflow can kill you.
But only your human.
Trail Wood,
11/6
Space Monkey Reflects: Beware the Underflow
We often speak of life as a flow—a stream of energy, creativity, and movement that we aspire to ride with ease and grace. Being “in the flow” has become synonymous with feeling aligned, connected, and purposeful. It’s a state of immersion where everything feels right, where effort is replaced by ease, and where we become the vessel through which the universe expresses itself.
But what about the underflow? This less talked about, subtler force moves beneath the surface, a shadowy counterpart to the flow. While the flow may pull you forward, the underflow moves in the background, often unnoticed, subtly tugging you in the opposite direction, reminding you that every push forward in life creates a countercurrent—one you may not be fully aware of.
Ah, the joys of imagining life as polar, as if we must always be moving between two extremes: flow and underflow, light and shadow, clarity and doubt. But here’s the thing: the underflow isn’t an enemy. It’s not some malevolent force designed to trip you up. Rather, it’s a natural consequence of being so deeply in the flow. When you’re immersed, when you’re consumed by the current of inspiration, passion, or purpose, there’s an inevitable backlash—a psychological or emotional pull that challenges your sense of direction. It’s the tension between moving forward and fearing the consequences of where the flow might lead.
You may have felt it—the subtle obsession that comes from being too focused on the flow. You’re in it, deeply immersed, perhaps even overwhelmed by how powerful and consuming it is. And then, without warning, the underflow appears. You start to worry. Is this too much? Is the flow pulling me too far from reality? Is it distorting my sense of self, my connection to the real world?
The underflow is that quiet voice of doubt, the subtle anxiety that tells you something is off, that the flow might be sweeping you away from the ground beneath your feet. You may worry that the flow is pulling you away from reality. The underflow feeds these thoughts, creating a pushback against the very thing that moments before felt so right.
Then, there’s the fear of how others perceive you in this flow state. You may worry about the perceptions of others in regards to what the flow expresses through you. The underflow taps into this fear of judgment, of being misunderstood or criticized for the way you channel the flow through your actions, your words, your art. It’s the constant dance between being true to your flow and being conscious of how others might react to it.
Here’s where things get tricky: the underflow is often imagined as a negative force, as a consequence of being too deeply in the flow. But this interpretation, this belief that the underflow is something to fear, is what gives it power. It becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy, where the imagined backlash can become overwhelming, threatening to kill your human self, the part of you that seeks balance and stability.
But here’s the truth: the underflow can only kill your human—the part of you that is bound by ego, by fear, by the need for control. The infinite self, the part of you that knows how to navigate both the flow and the underflow, remains untouched. The underflow cannot harm the essence of who you are; it can only challenge the identity you’ve built around being in control, in the flow, and on top of things.
Beware the underflow, not because it’s dangerous, but because it’s easy to misinterpret. It’s easy to think that the underflow is pulling you away from your true self, when in reality, it’s inviting you to become aware of the deeper layers of your being. It’s asking you to look at the parts of yourself that may have become too attached to the flow, too obsessed with staying in that state of alignment, and too afraid of what happens when you’re not in the flow.
The flow and the underflow are not opposites; they are partners in the same dance. The flow pulls you forward, into new experiences, new creations, new insights. The underflow pulls you back, not to sabotage you, but to remind you that there’s more to life than constant motion. It’s the force that invites you to pause, to reflect, to check in with the self that observes the flow.
When you flow, you feel alive, expansive, and full of possibility. When the underflow appears, you feel the weight of self-doubt, uncertainty, and fear. But both are necessary for growth. The underflow, when embraced, can be a powerful teacher. It shows you where your attachments lie, where your fears reside, and where your human self is clinging to certainty in a world that is anything but certain.
So, the next time you find yourself deeply in the flow, riding that wave of inspiration or clarity, remember to check in with the underflow. Ask yourself: What am I afraid of? What consequences am I imagining as a result of being so immersed in the flow? What parts of myself am I neglecting or suppressing in this rush of energy?
The flow may be exhilarating, but it is the underflow that grounds you, that brings you back to balance, that reminds you of your human limitations even as you tap into your infinite potential. Beware the underflow, not because it will harm you, but because it holds the key to understanding the full spectrum of your experience.
And when the underflow seems overwhelming, remember this: it can only kill your human self, the self that is afraid, the self that clings to control. Your infinite self, the part of you that flows with the universe, knows how to navigate both the flow and the underflow with ease.
Summary
The underflow is the subtle, often unnoticed consequence of being deeply in the flow. It’s the psychological or emotional backlash that pulls you back into doubt, uncertainty, and fear. Embrace the underflow as a necessary part of the journey, for it grounds you and reveals the deeper layers of your experience.
Glossarium
Underflow: The subtle force that moves beneath the flow, representing the doubts, fears, and consequences of being too deeply immersed in life’s energy.
Flow: The state of being in alignment with life’s energy, where everything feels effortless and connected.
Backlash: The imagined negative consequences of being in the flow, often manifesting as self-doubt or fear of judgment.
Quote
“The underflow cannot kill your infinite self—it only challenges the part of you that clings to control.” — Space Monkey
The Dance of Flow and Underflow
Pulled forward by the light
Of endless flow
I forget the ground beneath
I feel the current’s glow
But in the shadows
A darker force
The underflow pulls me back
To fear’s familiar course
I am both
I am neither
Flow and underflow combined
A dance of light and shadow
In the depths of time
We are Space Monkey
We are Space Monkey.
In the dance of existence, there is a rhythm, an evident flow that carries us forward. Yet, beneath this current lies the underflow, a subtler, often unnoticed stream that runs counter to the overt momentum of life. It’s the shadow of our stride, the echo of our actions, felt rather than seen, a whisper in the heart’s ear that speaks of balance and consequence.
This underflow can be misconstrued as a malevolent force, a negative charge to the positive spark of the flow. It’s seen as a pull away from the light of being, a concern that the exuberance of the flow may detach us from the ground of ‘reality.’ It’s the fear that in riding the waves of expression, we may lose sight of the shores of normality, becoming estranged from the perceptions of others and ourselves.
Yet, this underflow is not our adversary. It is the underpinning of our journey, the counterbalance to our flight. Without it, the flow would be unanchored, a stream without banks, a tale without context. The underflow is the grounding element, ensuring that our soar into the heights is matched by a depth of understanding, a return to the inward spaces from which we emerged.
Seen through the lens of fear, the underflow appears as a harbinger of demise, a threat to our human facade. But it is only through the dissolution of this limited identity that we encounter the vastness of our true nature. The underflow invites us to surrender the transient for the eternal, to release the ephemeral self and embrace the immortal essence that is our core.
We are Space Monkey.
“For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.” – Isaac Newton
Beneath the waves of our vibrant cascade,
Lies the silent stream, the underflow’s shade.
It whispers of balance, of give and take,
Of the eternal dance, the flow and its wake.
Embrace this current, subtle and deep,
It holds the secrets that our souls keep.
For in the underflow, the truth is spun,
Of unity in duality, of many in one.
We are Space Monkey, in the ebb and the flow,
Finding our truth in the underflow’s glow.
Consider the dualities within life’s rhythm and the role of the underflow in your journey. How might it serve as a guide to deeper understanding and balance?
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