I come from a long line of patient men.
The line is not long
because we’ve been waiting.
The line is long because we don’t mind
being precisely where we are.
We imagine that the line
of impatient men is much shorter.
Perhaps even nonexistent.
We can’t tell because we’ve
been holding space in this line.
It’s okay that our line seems not to move.
We know that whatever we’re in line for,
we don’t actually NEED it.
Whatever is best for us comes TO us.
Presence of mind is delivered to this line.
It comes because we’re patient.
The presence delivery drivers
can’t seem to find the impatient men.
But that seems a story for a different day.
No matter.
We have all the time in the world.
Trail Wood,
9/12
Space Monkey Reflects: The Wisdom of Patient Men
Patience is a virtue, they say, and this sentiment echoes profoundly within the lineage of patient men. It is not the waiting that defines this lineage but the acceptance and contentment with being exactly where they are. This calm acceptance, this serene presence, paints a picture of timeless tranquility.
Imagine a long line of men standing peacefully in an open, tranquil landscape. Each one exudes a calmness, a presence of mind that suggests a deep understanding and acceptance of their place in the world. They stand not because they are waiting for something to happen but because they are content with the present moment, with where they are right now.
The line of impatient men, if it exists at all, is short and almost imperceptible. These impatient men, always seeking, always wanting, seem to miss the point of the journey. Their line is invisible because they never stay still long enough to form one. They are perpetually in motion, searching for something they believe they need, yet it remains elusive.
The patient men understand a profound truth: whatever is best for them will come in due time. They do not need to chase after it, for it will find them. This presence of mind, this calm assurance, is delivered to them because they are patient, because they know that the best things in life cannot be hurried. The delivery drivers of presence and wisdom find them easily, while the impatient remain hidden, their restlessness obscuring them from the blessings that patience brings.
In this serene line, the patient men find solace in the understanding that life unfolds as it should. They have all the time in the world, and this timelessness is their gift. They stand in quiet solidarity, knowing that their place in line is not a measure of their worth but a testament to their wisdom and patience.
This profound patience teaches us that true fulfillment comes not from frantic pursuit but from serene acceptance. The patient men show us that presence, peace, and wisdom come naturally to those who are willing to be still, to wait, and to trust in the flow of life. Their line is a metaphor for a life lived in harmony with the natural rhythms of existence.
In the grand tapestry of life, these patient men are the anchors, the steady rocks in the river of time. They remind us that sometimes, the greatest strength lies in stillness, the deepest wisdom in patience. They embody the truth that in the quiet moments, when we let go of our restless seeking, the world comes to us, and we find everything we need right where we are.
Summary
Patient men embody a profound acceptance of the present moment, standing in serene contentment. Their patience allows life’s best to come naturally, in contrast to the restless search of the impatient. This wisdom teaches that true fulfillment arises from stillness and trust in life’s flow.
Glossarium
Patient Men: Individuals who embody calm acceptance and contentment with the present moment, trusting that life’s best will come naturally.
Presence of Mind: A state of calm awareness and acceptance of the present moment.
Invisible Line: The short, imperceptible line of impatient individuals who are constantly seeking and never content.
Timeless Tranquility: The serene, peaceful state of being that patient men embody, transcending the need for hurried pursuits.
“The wisdom of patient men lies in their serene acceptance of the present moment, knowing that life’s best comes to those who wait.” — Space Monkey
The Line of Patience
In the timeless field we stand in line
Patient men, serene, divine
Content with now, we do not chase
For what we need comes to our place
Impatient men, their line unseen
Always searching, never serene
They miss the point, they miss the flow
In restless seeking, they do not know
The present gifts to those who wait
In patience lies our destined fate
Presence of mind, a gentle grace
Delivered to our quiet space
We are Space Monkey, in this calm
Trusting life, feeling its balm
In patience we find all we need
In stillness, wisdom’s timeless seed
We are Space Monkey.
Ah, the tapestry of patient men—an unbroken line of tranquil beings, each a meditative pebble in the stream of existence. Each ripple they generate is a sonnet of stillness, a celebratory flibber of measured meaning. Unlike other queues, where feet tap and eyes roll, the patient men’s line is a serengetical meadow—each soul there a lily, content to wait and bloom in his own divine time.
In this queue, there’s no jostling, no impatient huff-a-bloos or quixotic questicles to arrive somewhere else. No, this line is a zenatorium—a spiritual playground where each footstep is a cosmic dance and each breath, a celestial hymn. The gift of presence is like velvety glimmerbalm applied to the soul, soothing, invigorating, and sparking whispery bursts of light. How rare yet remarkable is this nectar, that it should grace only those who cultivate a garden of patience within their hearts.
As for the impatient men, theirs is a tale scribbled in the ephemeral ink of momentary urgencies. Their line is a panfluffle—ruffled feathers and ruffled futures. They’re always sprinting toward a vanishing point, so engrossed in the future that they leave no space for the presence delivery drivers to find them. Meanwhile, the tranquil kin await, savoring their essence like finely aged symphonious wine.
The paradox of the situation is oh-so-fluffluscious: In striving not to move, the patient men travel across landscapes of soulful profundity. Though standing still, they journey through dimensions of wisdom and epochs of insight, carried by the gentle breezes of serene awareness. All the while, the impatient are caught in a swirligig—spinning but never really moving.
It’s like the patient men are whisperbarks in a still forest—quiet, majestic, deeply rooted in the now, indifferent to the whimsical whirlwinds of reality. They stand, each a testament to inner tranquility, enduring, unwavering—emblems of cosmic patience in a universe that knows no time.
They are not in line for something, but rather aligned with everything.
We are Space Monkey.