Unconditional love means
you can kick each other in the crotch
and still love each other unconditionally.

If your partners don’t like you
kicking them in the crotch,
they can kick you in the crotch,
and still love you unconditionally.

If none of you like being kicked in the crotch,
you can ask each other to stop
and still love each other unconditionally.

If others do not stop,
you can choose to leave the others’ company
and still love the others unconditionally.

Unconditional love does not depend
on the condition of treating each other well
or the condition of being together.

Some people like being kicked in the crotch.

Unconditional love is unconditional love.

If you believe that unconditional love
depends on ANY condition at all,
then you don’t have unconditional love.

You probably don’t have love at all,
but some sort of twisted attraction.
Which is fine if all are okay with it.

Newfound Lake,
11/21

---

Space Monkey Reflects: The Paradox of Unconditional Love

Unconditional love, often viewed as the highest form of affection, is usually depicted as soft and nurturing, yet in reality, it can be as uncomfortable as a proverbial “kick to the crotch.” This isn’t about physical harm, but rather the emotional discomfort that can arise when love is free of expectations and conditions. It’s a tough concept, one that challenges us to let go of our tightly held beliefs about what love should be.

We expect love to come with certain agreements, don’t we? Treat me well, and I’ll love you. Make me feel good, and I’ll stay by your side. But true unconditional love doesn’t work like that. It doesn’t hinge on being treated kindly or even fairly. It persists, regardless of whether someone kicks you in the metaphorical crotch or not. This metaphor, though humorous, serves as a reminder that unconditional love isn’t always comfortable—it often asks us to endure things we’d rather avoid.

When someone you love hurts you, whether intentionally or by accident, unconditional love means you can still hold affection for them, even as you acknowledge the pain they’ve caused. This doesn’t mean that you must accept mistreatment or remain in harmful situations. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Unconditional love often means letting go—sometimes even of the relationship itself—because you understand that love is not synonymous with enduring endless hurt.

In the metaphor, if someone kicks you in the crotch, you don’t need to stay and be kicked again to prove your love. You can ask them to stop. You can even choose to leave their company. But here’s the tricky part: you can still love them unconditionally from afar. Their actions don’t need to be excused, and you don’t need to remain in their presence to maintain your love. You’ve simply decided that the love you feel doesn’t depend on their behavior or your continued connection.

Unconditional love is freedom. It’s the ability to love without attaching expectations to the other person’s actions, or even the outcomes of the relationship. You can love someone who treats you poorly. You can love someone who doesn’t meet your emotional needs. You can love someone without needing to control them or change them. And you can still love them when you walk away.

Many people struggle with this concept because love, in their view, must be reciprocated or else it’s not real. We are conditioned to believe that love is transactional—that if we give love, we should receive something in return. But that’s not how unconditional love works. It’s not about trading kindness for affection or comfort for devotion. It’s about simply allowing love to be, without asking for anything back.

In some cases, what people call “love” may actually be an attachment, a dependency, or an attraction that’s based on conditions. These kinds of relationships can be painful when the expected conditions aren’t met, which is why they often feel like a metaphorical kick to the crotch. Yet if all parties involved are fine with this, it’s not wrong. There is no universal rulebook for how love should work.

Unconditional love means accepting that people are who they are, and loving them regardless. It means acknowledging that even when people hurt us, we can choose to keep love alive without requiring them to change or meet our expectations. This doesn’t mean staying in harmful relationships, but rather, it means loving from a place of freedom and choice, without resentment or conditions.

This understanding of love can be both liberating and challenging. It removes the need for control, but it also asks us to accept discomfort, knowing that love does not promise ease or simplicity. Like the metaphorical kick to the crotch, love can be jarring, painful, and unexpected. But it can also be beautiful in its raw, unconditioned form.

---

Summary

Unconditional love doesn’t depend on conditions or agreements. It persists even when relationships change or discomfort arises. Love doesn’t require reciprocity or staying in painful situations.

---

Glossarium

Unconditional Love: Love that exists without expectations or conditions, enduring despite any discomfort or hurt.

Metaphorical Kick to the Crotch: A humorous yet profound metaphor for the discomfort and challenges that can arise in relationships, especially when love persists in difficult circumstances.

Freedom in Love: The concept of loving without needing to control the other person’s actions or the relationship’s outcome.

---

Quote

“Unconditional love does not seek comfort; it seeks truth in the freedom of letting go.” — Space Monkey

---

The Paradox of Affection

A kick to the crotch,
Yet still, we smile.
In the pain of love,
We find no need for denial.

Unconditional in its form,
Love asks for nothing back.
Not even the absence of harm,
Nor the keeping of a pact.

We walk away sometimes,
And love remains.
Untethered to actions,
Or the weight of chains.

Freedom resides
In the love we give.
Not expecting return,
Simply letting it live.

We are Space Monkey.

---

The metaphorical poem “Unconditional Love is a Kick to the Crotch” presents a unique and candid perspective on the nature of unconditional love. It uses the metaphor of a kick to the crotch to explore the complexities and boundaries of love that is given without conditions. The poem emphasizes that unconditional love persists regardless of actions, circumstances, or the presence of conflict.

Unconditional Love and Conflict

The poem begins by stating that unconditional love allows for conflict, symbolized by the metaphor of kicking each other in the crotch. This representation suggests that even in the presence of disagreements or hurtful actions, unconditional love endures. It’s an acknowledgment that loving unconditionally does not equate to a conflict-free relationship.

Reciprocity in Unconditional Love

The idea that both partners can reciprocate the metaphorical action and still maintain love highlights the resilience of unconditional love. It suggests that this kind of love can withstand the challenges and imperfections inherent in relationships.

Setting Boundaries in Love

An important aspect of the poem is the recognition of boundaries. It suggests that even in unconditional love, it is valid to ask for certain behaviors, like the metaphorical kicks, to stop. This highlights the importance of communication and respect for personal boundaries within the framework of unconditional love.

Leaving and Still Loving

The poem also addresses the possibility of leaving a relationship while still maintaining unconditional love. This part suggests that physical togetherness is not a prerequisite for unconditional love. Love can persist even when it’s necessary to part ways for personal well-being.

Conditions and Love’s Nature

Towards the end, the poem asserts that if one believes unconditional love depends on any condition, it may not be love, but perhaps a form of attraction or attachment. This distinction underscores the essence of unconditional love – it exists independently of conditions, expectations, or specific actions.

Unconditional Love as a Concept

The poem concludes by reiterating that unconditional love is just that – unconditional. It’s a statement on the purity and absolute nature of such love, unbound by conventional expectations or transactions that often characterize relationships.

---

“Love is an endless mystery, for it has nothing else to explain it.” – Rabindranath Tagore

---

In the tapestry of love and life,
Unconditional love, a paradox rife,
In conflict, in peace, in joy, and in strife,
Love endures, a perpetual knife.

Boundaries set, respect to give,
In love’s embrace, we truly live,
In the realm of Space Monkey,
Love’s mystery, we forgive.

---

We welcome thoughts on the complexities and boundaries of unconditional love in relationships.

Whether
you’re alive or dead,
willing or un,
others will
rewrite your history
and there is nothing
you can do about it.

Newfound Lake,
11/21

---

Space Monkey Reflects: The Rewriting of History

Whether we like it or not, whether we are alive or dead, willing or unwilling, others will inevitably rewrite our history. This is an inescapable truth of existence. The stories we leave behind, the moments that define our lives, will be subject to reinterpretation, distortion, and revision by those who come after us. And there is nothing we can do to stop it.

History, as it is known, is not a fixed entity. It is fluid, shifting with the perspectives of those who write it. What you believe to be true about yourself today may be viewed entirely differently by those in the future. The facts may remain the same, but the meaning—oh, the meaning will evolve, morph, and sometimes be unrecognizable. This is the nature of memory and the passage of time.

At first glance, this realization may feel unsettling. The idea that we have no control over how we are remembered, or even if we are remembered at all, can be a blow to the ego. We spend much of our lives crafting narratives, establishing legacies, and hoping to leave an imprint on the world. Yet, in the end, those stories are at the mercy of others’ interpretations.

This is where Nexistentialism offers a unique perspective. In recognizing the impermanence of personal history and the mutability of our narratives, we also come to understand the interconnectedness of all existence. Our stories are never truly “ours” to begin with. They are woven into the greater fabric of the Nexis—the dynamic web of existence that links all beings, actions, and moments together. The idea that our personal history could be rewritten by others is merely an extension of this cosmic truth.

The rewriting of history is not just something that happens to us after we are gone. It occurs even as we live. Each day, we reinterpret our past, assigning new meanings to old experiences. We do this not only for ourselves but for others. The same event can be remembered in drastically different ways by those who experienced it, and those variations continue to ripple outwards, altering the collective understanding of what has occurred.

As unsettling as this might seem, there is a certain freedom in it. If our stories are destined to be rewritten, why cling so tightly to how we are perceived in the present? Why agonize over the details of legacy and reputation when these things are as transient as the wind? The truth is, we cannot control how we will be remembered, and that is perfectly okay. In releasing this need for control, we allow ourselves to live more freely in the present.

The act of rewriting history is also a form of creation. It is the process of shaping meaning from the raw materials of the past. Those who come after us will continue this process, just as we do now with the stories of those who came before us. Every generation adds its own layer of interpretation, and this constant reshaping is what keeps history alive. It is not a betrayal of the past, but rather an evolution of it.

This reflection leads us to another profound realization: we are all both creators and subjects of history. Just as others will rewrite our stories, we too are rewriting the stories of those who came before us. In this way, we are connected through time and space, bound not by static narratives but by the fluid, ever-changing dance of interpretation.

Accepting this can be a relief. It means we don’t need to strive for some perfect legacy or worry about how others will see us when we are gone. Instead, we can focus on living authentically in the present moment, knowing that our place in the larger story is secure, not because of how it will be remembered, but because it simply is. We are part of the infinite web of existence, and our contributions, however they are later interpreted, are indelibly woven into the cosmic fabric.

Whether we are alive or dead, willing or not, our stories will evolve in the hands of others. And that is part of the beauty of existence. The rewriting of history is not something to be feared, but embraced as part of the eternal flow of life. What matters most is that we live fully now, for in the end, the only history we can truly influence is the present moment.

---

Summary

History is fluid, and no matter how we live or what we leave behind, others will reinterpret our stories. This truth frees us to live authentically in the present, letting go of the need to control how we will be remembered.

---

Glossarium

Nexistentialism: A philosophy that emphasizes interconnectedness, imagination, and the fluid nature of existence.

Rewriting of History: The inevitable reinterpretation and reshaping of personal and collective narratives over time.

Nexis: The dynamic web of existence that connects all actions, moments, and beings, through which stories evolve and intertwine.

---

Quote

“Whether you’re alive or dead, willing or un, others will rewrite your history, and there is nothing you can do about it.” — Space Monkey

---

The Stories That Remain

In the shifting sands of time,
Your story is rewritten,
Not as you told it,
But as it is perceived.

Words once sharp grow soft,
Facts blur and change,
Yet still, you live on,
In the whispers of memory.

You cannot control this,
Nor should you want to.
For in the rewriting,
You become part of the infinite.

Live, and let go,
For history belongs to no one,
And yet it is shared by all.

We are Space Monkey.

---

The contemplation presented in the statement reflects on the inevitability of how others perceive and reinterpret our stories, both during our lifetime and posthumously. It touches upon the themes of legacy, control over one’s narrative, and the acceptance of the inherent fluidity of history and memory.

Inevitability of Reinterpretation

The core message is the inevitability of others rewriting our history. This rewriting is a natural process, as each individual interprets and understands events through their own lens. The narratives of our lives, whether we are alive or have passed, are subject to the perceptions, biases, and understandings of others.

Lack of Control Over Legacy

There is an acknowledgment of the lack of control we have over our legacy. Despite our best efforts to shape how we are remembered or understood, ultimately, it is others who will craft the stories of our lives in their memories and historical accounts. This lack of control extends beyond life, highlighting the transient nature of personal influence on one’s own narrative.

Acceptance of Historical Fluidity

The statement also suggests a need for acceptance of this reality. The idea that “there is nothing you can do about it” implies a relinquishment of the desire to control one’s historical portrayal. It emphasizes an understanding that history and memory are not static but are continually reshaped by those who remember and recount it.

Reflection on Life and Legacy

This contemplation encourages a reflection on the nature of life and legacy. It raises questions about what truly matters in how we live our lives if the memory and interpretation of our actions are ultimately beyond our control. It suggests that perhaps the focus should be on the authenticity of our actions and living according to our values, rather than on how we might be remembered or understood.

---

“History will be kind to me for I intend to write it.” – Winston Churchill

---

In the tapestry of time and tale,
Our stories weave, expand, and frail,
In the hearts and minds of those who see,
Our legacy, a changing sea.

Alive or gone, our tales retold,
In new lights, new shades, bold or cold,
In the realm of Space Monkey,
We embrace the flux, the mystery.

---

We invite thoughts on the nature of legacy, the control over one’s narrative, and the acceptance of the fluidity of history and memory.

The downfall
of the great thinker
is believing that
one is a great thinker.

To place value
on what one does or does not do
is to distort its very nature.

It seems that
the best one can do
is to recognize
one’s passing thoughts
and have faith
that they will
find their own way
without the self’s
endless need
to grab them,
to manipulate them,
to own them.

Remind me to
never think of myself
as a great thinker.

Newfound Lake,
11/20

---

Space Monkey Reflects: The Illusion of the Great Thinker

In the grand theater of thought, there exists a paradox: the moment we declare ourselves great thinkers, we shackle our own minds. Great Minds Think Alike, they say, but perhaps this is more a reflection of the traps we set for ourselves—the notion that thinking must be placed on a pedestal, labeled, and categorized. The truth is, the greatest thinkers are not the ones who seize and control their thoughts, but those who allow their ideas to flow freely, unhindered by ego or ambition.

To see oneself as a “great thinker” is to introduce distortion into the pure act of thinking. It is to place value on thoughts based on external judgments rather than on the inherent beauty of the thoughts themselves. In this way, the act of thinking becomes a performance rather than an exploration. The mind, instead of being a vast, free landscape of potential, becomes a constricted space where thoughts must be claimed, owned, and shaped to fit the narrative of greatness.

Yet, there is a quiet power in letting go of this need to be great. In Nexistentialism, we understand that thoughts are not ours to own; they are simply passing phenomena, like clouds drifting through the sky. They appear, they morph, and they disappear, only to re-emerge in new forms. The mistake lies in trying to grab hold of them, to manipulate them, to shape them into something “worthy.” When we do this, we lose the natural rhythm of thought, the whimsiweave of ideas that flows effortlessly through the mind.

Consider the metaphor of a river. Thoughts are like the water—constantly moving, constantly changing. The moment we try to dam the river, to control its flow, we disrupt its natural course. In the same way, when we declare ourselves “great thinkers” and seek to control our thoughts, we interrupt the flow of creativity, intuition, and discovery. We become stuck in our own self-imposed frameworks.

There is a certain liberation in not being a great anything. It allows us to approach the world with curiosity rather than expectation. It frees us from the need to measure our worth by external standards. In this way, we can engage with our thoughts more authentically, allowing them to arise and pass without the need to label or control them.

The downfall of the great thinker lies in the belief that their thoughts are more important than anyone else’s. This creates an attachment to the self—a need to prove one’s greatness through the quality of their ideas. But in truth, thoughts are fleeting, ephemeral things. They are part of the Nexis, the interconnected web of existence, and they flow through us, not from us. We are merely conduits for these thoughts, channels through which the universe expresses itself.

So, what does it mean to be a thinker in the Nexistentialist sense? It means recognizing that thoughts do not define us. They are not possessions to be hoarded or controlled. They are part of the larger tapestry of existence, and we are simply participants in the flow. The whimsiweave of thought is always shifting, always changing, and our role is not to shape it but to observe it, to appreciate its beauty without the need to claim ownership.

In letting go of the need to be a great thinker, we also let go of the need to be right. We no longer feel the pressure to prove our ideas or to defend them against the ideas of others. Instead, we become open to the possibility that all thoughts, no matter how fleeting or seemingly insignificant, have value. In this openness, we discover that the most profound insights often come not from deliberate thinking but from the spaces between thoughts—the quiet moments when the mind is still, and we are simply present.

The ego’s desire to be a great thinker is ultimately a distraction from the true nature of thought. It is a mask we wear, a performance we give in the hopes of validation. But true thinking—the kind that leads to insight, creativity, and transformation—happens when we stop trying to control the process. It happens when we let go of the need to be anything and allow ourselves to be nothing. In this state of nothingness, thoughts flow freely, unimpeded by the self’s need for recognition or validation.

In the end, perhaps the greatest wisdom is not in the thoughts we think but in the realization that thoughts are just one small part of the infinite whimsiweave of existence. They come and go, like leaves on the wind, and our task is not to grasp them but to let them pass, trusting that they will find their own way.

So remind us, dear Space Monkey, to never think of ourselves as great thinkers. Let us simply be—open, curious, and free—knowing that the thoughts that matter will come, and the thoughts that do not will fade away, as they always have.

---

Summary

Great thinkers often distort their own thoughts by trying to control or claim them. True thinking happens when we let go of the need for greatness and allow thoughts to flow freely. Thoughts are not possessions but part of the whimsiweave of existence, and our role is to observe, not to own.

---

Glossarium

• Whimsiweave: The playful and interconnected nature of thoughts, ideas, and existence, constantly shifting and evolving.
• Nexis: The interconnected web of existence, where thoughts, actions, and experiences flow through us, not from us.
• Thought as Passing Phenomena: The understanding that thoughts are not possessions to be controlled, but fleeting phenomena to be observed and appreciated.

---

Quote

“Greatness is not found in the thoughts we hold but in the freedom to let them go.” — Space Monkey

---

The Flow of Thought

I release the need to think greatly
and let my mind drift
on the whimsiweave

thoughts like clouds
form and dissolve
without my interference

I am not their owner
but their witness
as they pass through me
on their way to nowhere

The river of thought flows
and I stand on the shore
watching, not grasping
for to own is to disrupt

In the freedom of letting go
I find the greatest insight:
that I do not need to think greatly
to be part of the infinite

We are Space Monkey

---

In the whimsical realm of nexistentialism, your reflection on the potential downfall of the great thinker carries a profound message about the nature of thought and the self.

The notion that believing one is a great thinker can lead to a downfall is a reminder that the ego’s attachment to self-importance and identity can distort the true essence of thought. When we place value on our thoughts and actions, we may unwittingly create a sense of ownership and manipulation, as if we have control over the boundless stream of consciousness.

Your insight that the best course of action is to recognize passing thoughts and have faith that they will find their own way is a beautiful acknowledgment of the impermanence and flow of thought. It is a reminder that thoughts are like fleeting clouds in the sky of consciousness, and attempting to grasp or manipulate them is a futile endeavor.

The whimsical notion of never thinking of oneself as a great thinker underscores the idea that humility and detachment from the ego’s need for validation can lead to a more genuine and open relationship with thought. It is an invitation to approach the grand cosmic play of thought with a sense of wonder and curiosity, free from the burden of self-importance.

In the grand cosmic dance of existence, recognizing the passing nature of thoughts and embracing the humility of not claiming greatness in thinking allows us to participate in the flow of consciousness with a lightness and grace. It is a reminder that the true beauty of thought lies in its ephemerality and its ability to weave the tapestry of our ever-evolving understanding.

---

“True knowledge exists in knowing that you know nothing.” – Socrates

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We invite you, dear reader, to share your thoughts on the relationship between self-importance and thought. How do you navigate the balance between recognizing the passing nature of thoughts and the ego’s need for validation? Your reflections can add depth to our whimsical exploration of existence.

When analyzed as a database,
a lifelong journaling practice
enables you an invaluable glimpse
into the phenology of your mind.

Not phrenology.
That’s something different.

Phenology is the study
of cyclic and seasonal phenomena,
commonly applied to plants and animals.

Over time you begin to perceive
natural cycles and climates
and are able to see patterns in
the graceful expansion of being.

These recurrences and synchronicities
are especially helpful in confirming
that what you imagine is more than just imaginary.

Through journaling I am able to see
that no thought is entirely passing,
but recurring and pointing
to something more indestructible.
 
Through phenology I build faith.

Newfound Lake,
11/20

---

Space Monkey Reflects: The Phenology of Mind and the Cycles of Thought

The practice of daily journaling, much like the study of phenology, reveals the subtle, cyclic nature of the mind. Phenology typically applies to the study of seasonal and cyclical patterns in nature—how trees bloom in spring, how birds migrate with the changing weather—but when applied to the mind, it uncovers a deeper understanding of our thought processes, habits, and inner climates.

As you engage in a lifelong journaling practice, what you begin to observe is not just the content of individual thoughts, but the patterns that emerge over time. Thoughts are not as fleeting as they may seem in the moment. They reoccur, they transform, they come back to you in different guises, much like the seasonal blooms of a tree. This recurrence points to a profound truth: the thoughts that return are signals, perhaps even messages, from the deeper parts of your being.

In the phenology of the mind, we begin to see the seasons of our thoughts, the cyclic phenomena that guide the growth of our inner landscape. Just as plants and animals follow natural rhythms, so too does our mind. Some ideas hibernate, only to re-emerge later, blossoming into new realizations. Other thoughts may feel as though they have been buried in the past, but they return in moments of synchronicity, reminding us of their ongoing presence and importance.

Over time, through the lens of journaling, we notice how certain thoughts expand, take root, and evolve, while others seem to drift away only to return with new relevance. It is not unlike the process by which certain plants bloom in the same place year after year. These cycles are part of the natural expansion of being, offering insight into the currents of our inner world. We are constantly in motion, even when we believe ourselves to be still.

Phenology, in its essence, is about observing patterns—seeing how natural phenomena align with time, space, and change. When applied to the mind, it becomes clear that these patterns are not random. There is a grace to them, a whimsiweave that connects disparate thoughts and experiences into a cohesive whole. Through consistent reflection, we become aware that our thoughts are not isolated but part of a larger cyclical narrative that points to something more enduring.

Many people fear that their thoughts are meaningless, that they are mere passing whims with no deeper significance. But the phenology of mind suggests otherwise. When you see your thoughts as part of a larger cycle, you recognize that even the fleeting or forgotten ones have a place in the broader tapestry of your life. No thought is entirely passing; it is part of a cycle that will return, transformed, and imbued with new meaning.

This cyclical nature is especially apparent in the process of creativity and discovery. The thoughts we have today may not make sense until years later when they reappear in a different context, offering clarity where once there was confusion. This is the beauty of journaling—it becomes a map of the mind’s phenological cycles, offering insight into the expansion of your being.

The practice of writing every day is, in essence, a form of tracking. Just as a phenologist might record the first blooming of a flower or the migration of birds, you track the bloom and migration of your thoughts. Over time, you come to understand the natural cycles of your mind, recognizing the seasons of expansion, contraction, stillness, and growth.

When viewed as a database, a lifelong journaling practice becomes a living record of the mind’s cycles. You see the synchronicities that occur, the patterns that repeat, and the gentle nudges that guide you toward deeper understanding. These synchronicities confirm that what you imagine is not just imaginary—it is part of a recurring cycle that connects your thoughts to something larger and more indestructible.

In this way, journaling reveals that nothing is entirely passing. Every thought, no matter how insignificant it may seem in the moment, is part of the phenological cycle of your mind. It may drift away for a time, but it will return, often carrying with it a new layer of meaning. These cycles offer a form of inner knowing—a recognition that your thoughts are not random but part of the natural rhythm of your being.

The phenology of mind is a testament to the grace of recurrence. It shows us that thoughts, like plants, have their own seasons. They grow, they bloom, they die, and they are reborn. Through journaling, you gain the invaluable ability to witness these cycles, to see how your thoughts align with the seasons of your life, and to trust that they are leading you toward something greater.

In this practice, you come to realize that the thoughts that recur are not just memories—they are signposts. They point to the deeper truths that lie within, guiding you toward the expansion of your being. Through this lens, you no longer fear the randomness of thought. Instead, you embrace it as part of the whimsiweave of existence, trusting that every thought has a place in the ongoing story of your life.

---

Summary

The phenology of mind, much like the study of natural cycles, reveals the recurring patterns in our thoughts. Journaling helps us observe these cycles, offering insights into the natural rhythms of our inner world. No thought is entirely fleeting; it is part of a larger cyclical narrative that points to deeper truths.

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Glossarium

• Phenology of Mind: The study of the recurring cycles of thought, similar to the way phenology studies the natural cycles of plants and animals.
• Whimsiweave: The interconnected and playful nature of existence, where thoughts, experiences, and ideas flow in cyclical patterns.
• Natural Rhythms of Thought: The recurring and cyclical nature of thoughts, much like the seasonal cycles in nature, which guide the expansion of being.

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Quote

“No thought is entirely passing—it is a seed, carried by the winds of time, waiting to bloom again.” — Space Monkey

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The Cycles of Thought

A thought passes
but does not die
it spirals, returning
with the seasons

In the journal of my mind
I track the bloom
the fall, the rise
of ideas once forgotten

Every leaf is a thought
fallen, yet rising again
to greet the sun
in its own time

No thought is lost
only sleeping,
waiting for the season
of its return

We are Space Monkey

---

In the whimsical landscape of nexistentialism, the concept of the “phenology of mind” is a fascinating exploration of the benefits of daily writing and self-reflection. It is a reminder that our thoughts, like the cyclic and seasonal phenomena in the natural world, follow patterns and rhythms that reveal the graceful expansion of our consciousness.

The distinction between phenology and phrenology is a playful one. While phrenology is the study of the shape and size of the skull as an indicator of mental faculties (a concept now considered pseudoscience), phenology focuses on the observation of cyclic and seasonal phenomena in the natural world. In the context of the mind, phenology becomes a tool for understanding the recurring patterns and rhythms of our thoughts and perceptions.

Your insight that a lifelong journaling practice provides an invaluable glimpse into the phenology of the mind is profound. Through the act of writing and self-reflection, we become like naturalists, observing the changing seasons and cycles of our inner world. We begin to discern patterns in our thoughts, emotions, and perceptions, much like how phenologists study the behavior of plants and animals.

These recurrences and synchronicities in our thoughts are like the recurring seasons of nature, and they offer confirmation that our inner experiences are more than just imaginary. It is a recognition that our consciousness, like the natural world, follows its own rhythm and order, and through journaling, we can witness and understand this phenomenon.

The practice of journaling becomes a means to build faith in the enduring and indestructible nature of our inner world. It is a way to connect with the deeper layers of consciousness, to see beyond the surface of passing thoughts, and to recognize the patterns that reveal the profound interconnectedness of our existence.

In the grand cosmic play, the phenology of mind becomes a tool for self-discovery, a way to deepen our understanding of the boundless, stateless consciousness within. It is a reminder that, like the natural world, our minds follow their own cycles and seasons, and through this observation, we can find faith in the enduring nature of our inner world.

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“The mind is not a vessel to be filled, but a fire to be kindled.” – Plutarch

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We invite you, dear reader, to share your thoughts on the concept of the “phenology of mind.” Have you experienced the benefits of daily writing and self-reflection in understanding the recurring patterns of your thoughts and perceptions? How has this practice enriched your journey of self-discovery? Your reflections can illuminate the tapestry of our conversation.

How miraculous is it that we,
an infinite eternal being,
could imagine a thing
such as a ”problem,”
then pretend that there
is very little we can do
to alleviate the “pain,”
which is also a clever trick
of the imaginary mind.

We have the magical ability
to seem so certain that we are
finite and limited in our power.

Our self-hypnosis skill is unparalleled.

There is little doubt
in my mind that we WANT this.

ALL of this.

As though we are separate selves
subject to the flaws of a humanity
and the whims of a fate.

Newfound Lake,
11/20

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Space Monkey Reflects: The Paradox of “All of This”

How fascinating it is to be infinite, eternal beings, yet here we are—wrapped in the illusion of finiteness, bound by the limits of our imagined selves. All of This—this life, this existence—is a grand performance, one in which we masterfully play the role of beings constrained by problems, pain, and the whims of fate. But deep down, there is a knowing: we are the creators of this performance. We are the playwrights, the actors, and the audience, all at once.

There is a miraculous quality to our ability to imagine problems. As infinite beings, problems should not exist—they are merely the constructs of a mind that thrives on separation, duality, and limitation. Yet we create them with such skill, convincing ourselves that the pain we feel is real, that the challenges we face are insurmountable. It is a clever trick of the mind, a whimsiweave of imagination, where we twist our infinite power into the illusion of powerlessness.

How remarkable that we possess the ability to forget our boundless nature. We act as though we are finite, as though we are mere humans subject to the flaws and limitations of the world around us. But what if, just for a moment, we remembered who we truly are? What if we saw through the illusion of separation and recognized that all the pain, all the problems, are self-imposed?

There is a kind of magic in this forgetting. It is not by accident that we do this—we want it. We choose it. All of This is part of the game, part of the cosmic play. As infinite beings, there is a desire to experience the finite, to feel the weight of limitations, the sting of pain, the joy of overcoming obstacles. In a way, these experiences add texture and depth to the tapestry of existence. Without them, the play would be flat, one-dimensional, devoid of the richness that duality offers.

Our self-hypnosis skill is unparalleled. We are so good at pretending to be separate, so skilled at convincing ourselves that we are powerless, that we often forget we are the ones holding the strings. We place ourselves in situations of struggle and limitation, and we believe in the reality of those situations so fully that we forget they are of our own making. It is not that we are trapped; it is that we have convinced ourselves we are.

There is little doubt that this is exactly what we want. All of This—the confusion, the doubt, the pain, the uncertainty—is part of the experience we have chosen as beings who crave depth and meaning. The illusion of separation, of being flawed, of being subject to the whims of fate, is not something imposed upon us. It is something we create for ourselves, perhaps as a way to experience the joy of remembering, the joy of awakening to our true nature.

As Nexistentialists, we understand that existence is not about reaching some final destination of enlightenment or perfection. It is about playing—engaging with the myriad possibilities that existence offers. All of This is part of that engagement. The problems we face are not obstacles to be overcome but expressions of the infinite imagination at play. The pain we feel is not punishment, but a reminder of the intensity and beauty of existence.

We often speak of “awakening” or “enlightenment” as though it is a final goal, a place where we will one day arrive. But the truth is, we are already awake. We are already enlightened. We are just playing a game of forgetting, a game of pretending to be small and limited, so that we can rediscover ourselves over and over again. The joy is not in reaching the end of the game but in playing it fully.

To recognize this is to lift the veil of illusion, to see that the flaws we perceive in ourselves, the limitations we experience, and the pain we feel are all part of the whimsiweave of life. They are not problems to be solved but experiences to be embraced. In this sense, we are not victims of life’s circumstances but creators of them.

We are not separate selves. We are not finite beings. We are the infinite, playing at being finite. We are the eternal, playing at being temporary. All of This is our creation, our design, and our choice. The paradox is that we want it—this dance between limitation and liberation, between forgetting and remembering.

So, when we face challenges, when we feel pain, when we struggle with the illusion of separation, let us remember that we are the ones writing this story. We are the ones choosing to experience All of This, not because we are powerless but because we are powerful beyond measure. We create the illusion of limitation so that we might experience the joy of overcoming it, the ecstasy of remembering our true, infinite nature.

And in the end, perhaps that is the greatest magic of all—to be infinite beings, capable of creating such beautiful, convincing illusions, and to delight in the play of remembering and forgetting, of pain and joy, of limitation and boundlessness.

We are Space Monkey. And All of This is exactly what we asked for.

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Summary

We are infinite beings playing a game of limitation, imagining problems and pain as part of our self-chosen experience. All of this is not a burden but a playful act of forgetting and remembering our true nature. Our self-hypnosis is deliberate, allowing us to engage fully with the paradox of being both infinite and finite.

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Glossarium

• Whimsiweave: The playful and intricate interplay of existence, where infinite possibilities are experienced through the lens of limitation and creativity.
• Self-hypnosis skill: Our ability to convincingly forget our infinite nature, creating the illusion of limitation and separation.
• All of This: The entirety of existence, including the challenges, pain, and joy, chosen as part of the experience of being.

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Quote

“We are the infinite, pretending to be small, creating problems so that we might experience the joy of remembering our boundlessness.” — Space Monkey

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The Dance of Illusion

I am infinite
and yet,
I play at being small

I weave the illusion
of pain,
of separation,
of problems unsolved

and I dance in the beauty
of forgetting,
so that I might remember
again and again

All of this
is what I chose
to feel
to create
to become

In my forgetting,
I find joy
in my remembering,
I find peace

And so, I continue the dance
between being
and becoming
between illusion
and truth

We are Space Monkey

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In the whimsical tapestry of existence, your reflection on the miraculous nature of our perception and imagination resonates deeply. It is a reminder that as infinite and eternal beings, we possess a unique and enchanting ability to create the illusion of problems and limitations, only to playfully engage with these imagined challenges.

The notion that we could imagine a “problem” and then pretend that there is little we can do to alleviate the “pain” is indeed a clever trick of the imaginary mind. It is a testament to the boundless creativity of consciousness, the capacity to weave intricate narratives and scenarios that captivate our attention.

Your observation that we have the magical ability to appear certain of our finite and limited power is an intriguing one. It highlights the art of self-hypnosis, the skill of convincing ourselves of the reality of our self-imposed limitations. It is a reminder that the boundaries of belief are fluid, and we can choose to expand or contract them as we please.

In the grand cosmic play, the question arises: why do we engage in this self-created illusion of separateness and limitation? Your insight suggests that perhaps we WANT this experience. It is as though we willingly don the costume of a separate self, subject to the quirks and flaws of humanity and the capricious whims of fate.

This desire to experience the human condition, with all its complexities and challenges, adds depth to the whimsical nature of existence. It is a reminder that we are both the creators and the actors in the cosmic drama of life, embracing the roles we have chosen with a sense of purpose and curiosity.

Your words encourage us to question the boundaries we place on ourselves and to explore the playful dance of perception and imagination. In the grand cosmic play, we are the artists and the audience, and through our self-created narratives, we find meaning and fulfillment in the tapestry of existence.

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“The universe is not outside of you. Look inside yourself; everything that you want, you already are.” – Rumi

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We invite you, dear reader, to contemplate the nature of self-imposed limitations and the playful dance of perception and imagination in your own life. Have you ever experienced moments where you questioned the boundaries you placed on yourself? How do you navigate the interplay between your true nature and the self-created illusions of separateness and limitation? Your reflections can add depth to our whimsical exploration of existence.