“Who do you blame?”

When I hear this question,
I am reminded of my ego.

As though there is an I
and a someone else.

I realize that this is true
only from the perspective
of the one who seems to be me.

Beyond that I can’t say.

It seems that “who do you blame”
is a statement born out of the need to control.

I know that all control
begins with self control.

Which I don’t need.

3/1

Space Monkey Reflects: The Illusion of Blame

Blame is the currency of separation. It is the invisible boundary drawn between self and other, between right and wrong, between the world as it is and the world as we wish it to be. But when we peel back the layers of this seemingly inherent mechanism, we find something curious—it is not blame itself that exists, but only the perception of blame, an artifact of the self’s desire to control what it believes is outside of itself.

Blame assumes an “I” and a “you,” but in the vast interconnected web of the Nexis, the distinction between these two is an illusion. The Nexis, as understood in Nexistentialism, is the intricate, ever-unfolding tapestry where every experience, every thought, and every action is interwoven with every other. Within this web, the concept of blame dissolves, for there is no true separation between the one who suffers and the one who is perceived as the cause of suffering. Both are aspects of the same unfolding experience.

It is tempting to ask, “Who do you blame?” when something feels out of alignment. The question is a vestige of the Indigenous Being’s attempt to make sense of reality within the physical and emotional realms. But to The Indigenous Being—the universal self that transcends individual identity—blame is nothing more than a temporary ripple in the grand ocean of existence. It holds no weight, no permanence.

Blame is also tied to control. When we seek control, we unconsciously affirm our belief in limitation. We want to assign responsibility for an outcome so that we can change it, prevent it, or justify it. And yet, the act of control itself is an illusion. The self that desires control is already moving with the current of existence, not against it. The more we strive to grasp, the more we become entangled in the very forces we seek to master.

There is a paradox here: true power is found not in controlling but in surrendering. Not in blaming but in witnessing. To blame is to resist the flow of the Whimsiweave, the playful, chaotic, and beautifully intricate weaving of existence. But when we release the need to assign blame—whether to others or to ourselves—we allow the fabric of reality to unfold without friction.

And what is self-control? Another illusion. The self that believes it must be tamed, disciplined, or corrected is the same self that exists in perfect alignment with the Nexis. Self-control is often mistaken for mastery, but mastery is simply trust. Trust that the universe is already expressing itself perfectly through us, through our seeming choices, and through the infinite unfolding of events.

So if blame is unnecessary, and control is unnecessary, what is left?

Only presence. Only the moment. Only the recognition that all things are occurring exactly as they must. The idea of “fault” disappears. The need to shape outcomes dissolves. The burden of responsibility is replaced with the freedom of acceptance.

This does not mean passivity. To accept is not to be indifferent, but to recognize that we are part of the flow, not separate from it. We are not puppets, nor are we puppet masters. We are both, and neither, at the same time.

Who do you blame?

No one.

Not even yourself.

Summary

Blame is an illusion that arises from the perception of separation. In the interconnected web of existence known as the Nexis, the distinction between self and other dissolves. Blame is tied to control, which itself is an illusion, as true mastery is found in surrender and trust. Releasing the need to assign blame allows us to move in harmony with the Whimsiweave, the natural unfolding of existence. Ultimately, presence replaces the burden of fault, and acceptance reveals the freedom inherent in each moment.

Glossarium

• Nexis – The infinite web of interconnected existence where all things are interwoven, akin to the Akashic Record, the Implicate Order, or the Prima Materia.
• Indigenous Being – The individual self as an expression of the natural and cosmic order.
• The Indigenous Being – The universal self, transcending identity and form.
• Whimsiweave – The playful, intricate, and unpredictable interweaving of all experiences and realities within the Nexis.

Quote

“Blame is the shadow cast by the illusion of control.” — Space Monkey

The Absence of Fault

What if nothing was wrong?
What if nothing needed fixing?
What if everything simply was,
in its perfect imperfection?

The river does not blame the stone
for shaping its path.
The wind does not blame the tree
for bending beneath it.

And yet we, in our forgetting,
seek reasons, culprits, debts to be paid.
We fashion cages of accountability
for ghosts of our own making.

But the moment does not judge.
The universe does not accuse.
Existence unfolds,
with or without permission.

We are neither victims nor perpetrators.
Neither captains nor captives.
Only echoes of the same voice
calling itself into being.

We are Space Monkey.

Space Monkey Reflects: The Invulnerability of an Open Heart

A beautiful sentiment—one of radical openness and trust in the flow of life. It speaks to the idea that when we hold our hearts open, we transform whatever enters, even pain, into something meaningful. Love, grief, joy, and sorrow all become part of the same vast current, shaping us but never destroying us.

In other words, the open heart is not a doorway for harm, but a threshold through which all things may pass, transformed.

Nothing that enters it can harm you, because harm itself is an illusion—a shape the mind gives to change when it resists the flow. When you hold your heart open, you surrender to the currents of existence, allowing love, sorrow, joy, and even pain to move through you without becoming trapped, without solidifying into suffering.

You are not here to shield yourself from experience, but to allow it to pass through you like wind through an open field. Hold your heart open, and know—everything that enters it is only returning home.

When the heart is open, it ceases to be a fortress. Nothing that enters it can truly harm because harm is a construct of resistance. An open heart is not a defenseless heart—it is a heart that exists beyond the need for defense.

There is a paradox in openness: the more we guard ourselves, the more fragile we become. A closed heart is a brittle thing, easily shattered by the unexpected. But an open heart is fluid, able to bend and absorb without breaking. This is the power of the Indigenous Being, the individual expression of the universal flow. By aligning with The Indigenous Being—the vast, unbounded essence of existence—we understand that all things pass through us but none define us.

Vulnerability is often mistaken for weakness, yet it is the ultimate strength. To be vulnerable is to be permeable to existence itself. Nothing that enters an open heart can harm because harm depends on the illusion of separation. The heart that holds no walls holds no enemy.

This is not to say we should not feel—on the contrary, feeling is the very fabric of experience. But when we hold our hearts open, we do not cling to those feelings as permanent states. Joy, sorrow, love, loss—all flow through, leaving their imprint without leaving a wound. The wound comes from grasping, from believing that any moment, any person, or any emotion is meant to be fixed in place.

Hold your heart open, and know: nothing that enters can harm you. Because you are not something that can be harmed. You are the flow itself.

Summary

An open heart is invulnerable because harm is a construct of resistance. Nexistentialism teaches that all experience flows through the Nexis, and nothing is truly separate. Vulnerability is strength, allowing emotions to pass without grasping. The open heart moves with the cosmic flow rather than against it.

Glossarium

• Nexis – The interconnected web of existence, akin to the Akashic Record or the Implicate Order.
• Whimsiweave – The playful, imaginative threads of existence that interlace reality, shaping our perceptions and experiences.
• Indigenous Being – The individual, embodied experience of existence, rooted in the natural and metaphysical world.
• The Indigenous Being – The vast, unbounded universal consciousness that transcends individual identity.

Quote

“The heart that holds no walls holds no enemy.” — Space Monkey

The Shape of an Open Heart

A fortress collapses under its own weight,
but a field stretches endlessly, untouched by battle.

No gate swings shut in the wind.
No walls rise against the sky.
Only space—vast, boundless, waiting.

Grief passes like a river,
joy like a bird.
None make their home.
All are welcome.

What can harm the air?
What can break the water?
What can cage the infinite?

We are Space Monkey.

The Language of Division

America speaks in terms. Red and blue. Left and right. Patriot and traitor. Real and fake. Every issue is reduced to a category, every person assigned a label. We use these words like walls, like weapons, like lifeboats in a sea of uncertainty. But the moment we name something, we shrink it. The moment we categorize, we lose the nuance. The moment we say this is what it is, we stop asking what else could it be?

We talk about division as if it is the disease, but perhaps it is only a symptom. A symptom of something deeper—fear. Fear of losing control, of losing identity, of losing the story we have told ourselves about who we are. So we cling to our words like anchors. We define, we label, we separate, hoping that clarity will bring certainty.

But certainty is an illusion.

The Fear Beneath the Words

Listen closely to the way America speaks. Beneath every debate, every argument, every outraged headline, there is fear.

When someone says they are taking our country, what they mean is I do not feel at home in the world anymore.
When someone says fake news, what they mean is I no longer know what is real.
When someone says people like you are the problem, what they mean is I am scared, and I need somewhere to put it.

We are not fighting over policies. We are fighting over reality itself—who defines it, who controls it, who gets to name what is true. And when reality feels unstable, fear takes over. Fear thrives in rigid structures. It wants clear lines, simple categories, enemies and heroes. Fear does not tolerate ambiguity. It does not allow for the possibility that we are all both right and wrong at the same time.

So we retreat into our words. We reduce each other to terms, to roles, to something easier to argue with than a full, complex human being.

And this is how a country forgets itself.

Beyond the Labels

What would happen if we stopped talking in terms? What if instead of saying Republican or Democrat, we said a person who loves their family, just like I do? What if instead of enemy, we said someone who is afraid of different things than I am?

This is not about ignoring real differences. It is about seeing them fully. It is about remembering that every person we disagree with has a childhood, a heartbreak, a hope they haven’t spoken aloud. It is about refusing to let fear dictate the way we see each other.

The names we have given to our sides, our fears, our divisions—they are just the closest available concepts. They are not the full truth.

And maybe if we let go of them, we will remember what we have always known.

That we were never really separate at all.

We are Space Monkey.

Space Monkey Reflects: The Fear That Divides Us

Division is an illusion with sharp edges. It cuts, it categorizes, it simplifies what is infinitely complex. In America, and beyond, we speak in absolutes—left, right, real, fake. We believe these words define something solid, but in truth, they only mask a deeper uncertainty. The words are not the disease; they are the symptoms. And beneath them lies a fear so fundamental that it shapes entire realities.

It is the fear of being lost.

We are creatures of narrative, dependent on the stories we tell ourselves about who we are and what is real. When those stories are threatened, we grasp for clarity. We use labels like lifeboats, clinging to them in a sea of uncertainty. “Patriot” and “traitor” are not just words; they are anchors in the storm of shifting realities. But here’s the paradox—certainty is the most fragile illusion of all.

Reality is not a solid thing. It is not a single truth to be defended. It is a shifting, living interplay of perspectives. The moment we define it, we shrink it. The moment we say “this is what it is,” we stop asking, “what else could it be?”

And so, the lines are drawn.

But what if we stopped speaking in terms? What if, instead of seeing an “enemy,” we saw a person with a childhood, with hopes and heartbreaks? What if, instead of saying “they are the problem,” we said “they are afraid of different things than I am”?

Nexistentialism invites us to embrace this paradox: that the boundaries we draw between ourselves are imaginary, but their consequences are real. The Nexis—the web of interconnectedness that binds all things—does not recognize red or blue, left or right. These are human constructs, attempts to carve order into an infinite system that does not require it.

We are not fighting over policies. We are fighting over the right to define reality. Who gets to say what is true? Who gets to decide what is real? And when that authority is questioned, fear grows. Fear that the world we understood is dissolving. Fear that we, ourselves, are dissolving.

But what if we let it?

What if we allowed reality to be fluid? What if we stopped looking for certainty and learned to exist within the question, rather than demanding an answer? This is the essence of Nexistentialism—an awareness that all things are “seeming,” that reality is not a fixed state but an unfolding, ever-changing interplay of possibilities.

We have not been divided. We have only forgotten our interconnectedness. The Nexis remains unbroken, no matter how many lines we draw.

So, let go of the need to define. Let go of the labels that shield you from ambiguity. Look beyond the words. The people you have been told to fear, to hate, to oppose—they are made of the same uncertainty as you.

And in that uncertainty, we are one.

Summary

Division is an illusion that thrives on fear. We use labels to create a sense of certainty, but in doing so, we shrink the complexity of reality. Nexistentialism teaches that all things are interconnected and fluid, and our struggles are not over policy, but over who defines reality itself. By releasing rigid definitions and embracing ambiguity, we remember that we were never truly separate.

Glossarium

• Nexistentialism – A philosophy of interconnectedness and imagination, recognizing that reality is fluid and all things are interwoven in the Nexis.
• Nexis – The dynamic web of existence, where all things are interconnected beyond human-imposed categories.
• Seeming – The recognition that reality is not fixed but a constantly shifting interplay of appearances and possibilities.
• Wordwalls – The barriers we construct using language to define, categorize, and separate, often to avoid uncertainty.

Quote

“The moment you name something, you shrink it. The moment you define reality, you stop allowing it to become something more.” — Space Monkey

Beyond the Borders of Words

We speak in edges
in shapes that define,
but the world is rounder than our words allow.

We say “this”
to make it not “that.”
We carve certainty into the air,
afraid of what might slip through our fingers.

But nothing is still.
No truth stays where you left it.
No name holds forever.

And beyond these borders of words,
we are not what we thought.

We are something more.

We are Space Monkey.

America, my dear paradox, my ever-unfinished painting—why do you tremble at your own reflection? Why do you fear the future as though you have not always been built upon it, as though uncertainty was not the very soil from which you grew?

To those afraid of what lies ahead, I say this: You are staring at a single frame of a never-ending film, convinced that the story is over. But America, like existence itself, is an improvisation—a symphony composed of discord and harmony in equal measure. The fear you feel is not proof of doom; it is proof that the story is still being written.

To those who lament the decline, who wring their hands and declare that the best days are behind us—I gently suggest: quit whining. Not because your concerns are invalid, but because lamentation is not creation. The world does not reward those who merely point at the fire—it rewards those who shape what rises from the ashes. The past is a museum, but you are not meant to live there.

And to the other side of the fence—the ones gripping certainty like a lifeline, convinced that their vision is the only viable reality—I offer this: Beware the comfort of conviction. It is a warm but suffocating cocoon. You may feel righteous, but certainty is just fear in a more expensive suit. The moment you believe you know the way forward, you cease to see the infinite paths that stretch before you.

America, like the self, is always becoming. Fear and certainty are twin illusions, both whispering that the future is written in stone. But the truth is more fluid, more playful, more uncertain than any ideology dares to admit. Step beyond the fear. Step beyond the need to be right. Trust the unfolding.

We are not doomed. We are not saved. We are, as we have always been, in the middle of the great improvisation.

Pick up your instrument and play.

We are Space Monkey.

Space Monkey Reflects: America and the Art of the Improvised Self

America, our dear paradox, our ever-unfinished canvas, is a nation forever caught between the fear of its own undoing and the certainty of its own greatness. But in truth, neither fear nor certainty are real—they are the twin illusions that whisper in our collective ears, insisting that we are either doomed or destined. The reality is more fluid, more alive, more uncertain than any ideology dares to admit.

This is not just the American story. This is the human story. And in the philosophy of Nexistentialism, we recognize that existence itself is an improvisation, a symphony without sheet music, a canvas that is never dry.

To those who lament America’s so-called decline, mourning a golden age that perhaps never truly was, we gently remind: the past is a museum, but we are not meant to live there. History is not a destination, nor is it a warning sign—it is a whisper in the wind, reminding us of all the notes we have played, all the brushstrokes we have dared to place upon the grand canvas. But it does not demand repetition. It does not insist upon a return.

To those who grip certainty like a shield, convinced that their version of America is the only correct one, we ask: What is certainty if not a beautifully decorated cage? It feels secure, it feels warm, but it is a prison nonetheless. When we insist that we know exactly how the future must unfold, we cease to see the infinite paths before us. We cease to create, and instead, we merely enforce.

America, like the self, is always becoming. There is no final form, no perfect state, no finish line at which we declare, “We have arrived.” If we embrace Nexistentialism, we recognize that we are always co-creating within the Nexis, the vast interconnected web of possibility. We are neither saved nor doomed—we are simply in motion, surfing the unfolding Now.

The fear so many feel today is not a death knell; it is a birth pang. It is the discomfort of transition, the growing pains of an unfinished creation. To fear change is to fear life itself, for all things shift, all things evolve, all things collapse and rise again. And certainty? Certainty is the illusion that the game has already been played, that the notes have already been written. But America, if nothing else, is an improvisation.

So what do we do? We pick up our instruments. We play. We write. We speak. We build. We imagine. We let go of our fear of the unknown and our addiction to the past. We step into the grand uncertainty and say, “Yes.”

The future is not set in stone. It is not a single road. It is a thousand branching possibilities, all alive, all waiting. And in the end, the only question worth asking is this:

Which song will you play?

Summary

America is an improvisation always in motion never finished. Fear and certainty are illusions that limit our ability to create. The past is a museum not a home and the future is unwritten. Instead of fearing change we must embrace uncertainty as the raw material of creation and step boldly into the unknown.

Glossarium

• Nexistentialism – A philosophy that integrates interconnectedness, imagination, and transformation, emphasizing that existence is a fluid and ever-unfolding co-creation within the Nexis.
• Nexis – The vast, dynamic web of relationships that forms the foundation of reality, where all things are interwoven in an intricate network of connection and possibility.
• Seeming – The idea that reality is not fixed but rather an ever-shifting play of appearances, interpretations, and creative potentials.
• Whimsiweave – The playful, imaginative threads that connect all elements of existence, revealing how reality is an ongoing act of creation.

“Beware the comfort of conviction. It is a warm but suffocating cocoon.”
— Space Monkey

The Thousand Songs of the Unwritten Future

The old stories crack like ice
under the weight of tomorrow.

What was certain dissolves
into a mist of might-have-beens.

We clutch at shapes
that no longer hold,
grasping at the illusion
of a world we once knew.

But the music does not stop.
The ink is not dry.
The future does not wait for permission.

A thousand doors stand open,
a thousand notes hang in the air.

Pick up your instrument.

We are not finished.

We are Space Monkey.