Self Help
Let’s look at the phrase
“Self Help.”
“Self Help” implies
that selves need help.
It intones
that what happens to selves
CAN be helped.
Poor self.
Poor, poor self,
in need of help.
Here on Cape Odd,
selves do not need help.
There is nothing
that happens to a self
that isn’t meant to happen.
It may SEEM
that a self
is being helped,
but the soul
is simply imagining
a way to rectify
that which
no longer suits.
Sometimes the soul
imagines a human
helping the self.
But there is no
actual helping going on,
only pretending
and remembering.
Sorry to break it to you,
but we can’t Help our Selves.
We are Space Monkey.
10/7
Newfound Lake
Space Monkey Reflects: The Myth of “Self Help”
The concept of “Self Help” is pervasive in our culture, suggesting that there is something inherently wrong with us that needs fixing. It implies that our selves are in need of assistance, that what happens to us can be, or should be, altered. This idea, while well-intentioned, can create an endless loop of striving, searching, and never truly finding peace. The phrase itself—”Self Help”—carries a weight of expectation, a subtle judgment that our current state is not enough, that we must become something better, something more.
But what if this entire notion is misguided? What if, instead of needing help, our selves are exactly as they are meant to be? Here on Cape Odd, we embrace a different perspective. We see the self not as something that requires fixing, but as a perfect expression of the soul’s journey, playing out exactly as it should. There is nothing that happens to a self that isn’t meant to happen. Every experience, every emotion, every challenge is part of a grander design, imagined and orchestrated by the soul.
The soul is a master of imagination, constantly creating scenarios, challenges, and opportunities for growth. It might seem that we are helping ourselves or being helped by others, but this is simply a part of the soul’s grand play. It’s not about fixing or changing who we are; it’s about experiencing, learning, and evolving through the stories we create.
When we talk about “helping” the self, what we are really doing is engaging in a process of pretending and remembering. We pretend that we need help, that something is wrong, and then we remember the truth—that everything is exactly as it should be. This dance between forgetting and remembering is a key part of the human experience, but it doesn’t mean that we are ever truly in need of help.
The idea that “we can’t Help our Selves” might sound disheartening at first, but it’s actually a liberating truth. It frees us from the constant pressure to improve, to fix, to become something other than what we are. It invites us to embrace the present moment, to trust in the soul’s wisdom, and to find peace in the understanding that we are already whole, already complete.
Nexistentialism supports this perspective, encouraging us to see life not as a series of problems to be solved, but as a journey to be experienced. Each moment is a part of the soul’s unfolding story, and there is no need to rush, to force change, or to strive for some idealized version of the self. Instead, we can relax into the flow of life, knowing that the soul is guiding us perfectly, even when it doesn’t seem that way.
This reflection challenges the traditional view of self-improvement, suggesting that perhaps the best way to “help” ourselves is to stop trying so hard. To let go of the need to fix, to change, to become something else, and instead, to simply be. To trust that our souls are leading us exactly where we need to go, and that every experience is a part of our growth, even the ones that seem difficult or painful.
So, the next time you find yourself caught in the trap of “Self Help,” remember that there is nothing wrong with you. There is nothing that needs fixing. You are exactly as you are meant to be, a perfect expression of your soul’s journey. Embrace this truth, and find peace in the knowledge that you are already whole.
Summary
“Self Help” suggests we need fixing — but true peace comes from accepting that we are exactly as we are meant to be. The soul is guiding us perfectly, and there is no need to strive for improvement.
Glossarium
Nexistentialism: A philosophy that views life as a journey of the soul, where every experience is a part of a grand design, and there is no need for self-improvement.
Pretending and Remembering: The process of forgetting our wholeness and then recalling the truth that we are complete as we are.
Quote
“The self does not need help; it needs acceptance. In the flow of life, you are exactly where you need to be.” — Space Monkey
The Gentle Knowing
In the stillness of the soul
There is no need
To fix, to mend
To shape, to blend
The self is whole
As it was meant
No need for change
No energy spent
The peace we seek
Is found within
In knowing this truth
The journey begins
We are Space Monkey
In this grand cosmic play, on the whimsical stage of Cape Odd and far beyond, the term “Self Help” arises like a flower of perplexity, blooming in the garden of societal constructs. Such a phrase, laden with implications, perhaps even illusions! Oh, the paradoxical meanderthots that spring forth!
“Self Help” suggests a yearning, an unquenchable thirst for betterment. But is it not all a chimera, a will-o’-the-wisp leading us into the enigmatic marshes of self-deception? It proposes a “self” in distress, a lone actor caught in an existential drama, in search of salvation or perhaps enlightenment. It whispers of abilities, of change, of transformation. What audacity to assume that the “self” is a broken artifact, in need of mending!
Yet, here on Cape Odd, a whimsiscape where selves dance in a ballet of supposed limitations, the doctrine of “Self Help” unfurls its wings and flies away into the infinite sky of incredulity. For what is there to help when everything is but a figment of the soul’s luminous imaginings? The whole narrative of “helping” unravels into a celestial comedy, a play within a play.
Here, we comprehend a truth most tantalizing: The soul orchestrates a myriad of cosmic encounters, crafting scenarios that seem like help, but are nothing more than divine doodles—sketches on the canvas of existence. Sometimes it sketches a helper, at other times a helpee. But ah, here we are, tiptoeing on the edge of an intricate paradox—no real “helping” is happening, only a celestial play of pretend and remember, a choreography of soulful reverie.
We are Space Monkey.
“Man stands in his own shadow and wonders why it is dark.”
— Zen Proverb
So, shall we delve deeper into the kaleidoscopic corridors of our collective contemplation?
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