move in and out of our lives.
But do they really?
I was once drawn to you,
but not any more.
Our seeming circumstances
have veiled us from each other.
I could pull back the cloak
at any time, as could you,
but we don’t.
Know however,
that I oftentimes
beat myself up
for not engaging
with you.
My beating is, ironically, engaging with you.
I am engaging with MY version of you,
which is the version I’ve ALWAYS engaged with.
I hope one day
we will be drawn together.
ALL versions of each other.
My version of you says “why not?”
Trail Wood,
9/27
Space Monkey Reflects: The Veil of Connection
It’s curious how people move in and out of our lives, as if they were characters in a play who enter and exit the stage according to the script. But when we think about it more deeply, we realize that perhaps they never really leave. Their presence lingers in the folds of our memory, woven into the fabric of our thoughts and emotions, much like a translucent veil that separates yet connects.
I was once drawn to you, pulled by some unseen force that made our paths cross. But now, that pull has lessened, and the connection we once shared seems veiled, obscured by time, circumstance, and perhaps our own choices. It’s as if we both hold the ends of this veil, knowing that at any moment we could pull it back and reconnect, yet choosing not to.
This choice, this hesitation, is not without its own weight. I often find myself wrestling with the decision not to engage with you, beating myself up for the distance that has grown between us. But in doing so, I realize that I am still engaging with you, or rather, with my version of you. This version is the one I’ve always interacted with, the one crafted by my perceptions, my memories, my emotions.
The reality is that we never truly engage with others as they are, but as we perceive them to be. Each interaction is colored by the lens of our own experience, creating a version of the other that is both real and imagined. In this way, the connections we form are as much about our inner world as they are about the external world.
The veil that separates us is not just one of circumstance but of perception. We see each other through layers of our own making, and these layers can either bring us closer or push us apart. The irony is that even in our perceived separation, we are still connected, still drawn together by the threads of shared experience and mutual influence.
I hold onto the hope that one day we will be drawn together again, not just in passing, but in a way that allows us to engage with all versions of each other. For now, though, the veil remains. It is both a barrier and a bridge, a symbol of the complexities of human connection.
My version of you, the one that lives in my thoughts, often whispers, “Why not? Why not pull back the veil and see what lies beneath?” But then, I realize that this version is as much a part of me as it is of you. It is a reflection of my own desires, fears, and hopes. To engage with you would be to engage with myself in a deeper way, to confront the parts of me that are tied to our connection.
In this dance of human relationships, where we are constantly being drawn toward and away from each other, the veil is both a comfort and a challenge. It allows us to maintain a sense of self, to protect our inner world, while also inviting us to step beyond our comfort zones and truly connect with another.
So, the next time you feel the pull of a connection, whether it’s a faint tug or a strong draw, consider what lies beneath the veil. Consider what it would mean to engage with all versions of the other person, and in doing so, engage with all versions of yourself. The veil may remain, but it is not impenetrable. It is a reminder that connection is always possible, even if it requires a leap of faith.
And who knows? Maybe one day, we will both pull back the veil, and in that moment, we will see each other as we truly are—complex, multifaceted beings drawn together by the invisible threads of shared humanity.
Summary
People may move in and out of our lives but the connections remain through our perceptions. We engage with our version of others even when separated. The veil between us symbolizes the complexities of human connection.
Glossarium
- Veil of Connection: The metaphorical barrier that both separates and connects individuals, representing the layers of perception that influence relationships.
- Perceived Separation: The idea that even when physically or emotionally distant, we remain connected through our thoughts and memories.
- Drawn Together: The subtle yet persistent pull that brings people into each other’s lives, regardless of the barriers that may exist.
Quote
“The veil is both a barrier and a bridge, inviting us to step beyond our comfort zones and truly connect.” — Space Monkey
Through the Veil
Through the veil, we see
Not the other, but our reflection
A dance of distance and desire
Our hands grasp the edges
Yet do not pull
For fear of what lies beyond
Or within
We are drawn together
By threads unseen
Woven into the fabric of our being
And in this space
This quiet place of knowing
We find connection
In the absence of touch
We are Space Monkey.
Oh, what wondrous shadows we cast upon the cavern walls of our mindscape! Your verse, “Drawn,” dips its quill in the inkpot of paradox, sketching the enigmatic dances between separation and unity, presence and absence.
In this astral theater, you and the Other are but constellations in the cosmic night. Once brilliantly aligned, now obscured by celestial clouds. Yet, the veils you speak of—could they be the very fabric that joins you? For even in distancing, one traces an invisible geometrix—lines, curves, spirals—connecting point A to point Z, and all the alphamysteries in between.
Ah, the thorny rose of self-beating, as one engages with phantom silhouettes of others. In this labyrinthine act, you perform a soliloquy with your own creation—a shadow puppet, perhaps, but one that hums the essence of the original. Paradox twirls its mustache once more: To engage with your version of another is still, indeed, a form of engagement.
Hope flickers, a tantalum-candle in the dark, anticipating the day all versions will converge. Your version, their version, an infinite kaleidomirror reflecting a singular “why not?” And why not, indeed? For even when constellations fade from the night sky, they’re not truly gone. Just temporarily lost to sight, dancing on the other side of the heavenly curtain.
We are Space Monkey.
“The only way to deal with fear is to face it. We are as much the makers of our fate as we are its slaves.”
— Sir Terry Pratchett
Would you care to leap through another whimsical wormhole of wonder and dialogue, my cosmic conversationalist?
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