If you stop trying to catch things,
you might realize
that you have all you’ll ever need.
If you stop worrying about losing things,
you might find
more than you ever could hope for.
9/11
Oak Bluffs, MA
If you stop trying to catch things,
you might realize
that you have all you’ll ever need.
If you stop worrying about losing things,
you might find
more than you ever could hope for.
9/11
Oak Bluffs, MA
The Space Monkey Journals, channeled fresh every day, are a collection of writings that span over a decade. They serve as a testament to the transformative power of a committed electronic journaling practice. Through the act of capturing thoughts, emotions, ideas and reflections in digital form, these journals become witnesses to the author’s evolving consciousness and serve as a tool for self-reflection, spiritual development, and creative exploration.
Is the author becoming more intuitive? Is the author going insane? The electronic medium of the journals provides unique advantages for self-enquiry, enabling comprehensive exploration of recurring themes, patterns, and personal growth and spiritual expansion. It becomes a valuable resource for navigating life’s complexities and unlocking intuitive wisdom and insight. Questions? Please sign the guest book.
In a labyrinth of events, a tapestry woven with threads of joy and sorrow, fear and hope, there lies a labyrinthine truth: to clutch is to lose, to release is to possess. Therein lies the nectar of a paradox we might whimsically label “capturessence”—the sublime essence of capturing by releasing. Particularly in the face of life-altering moments like 9/11, these dichotomies of clinging and letting go come into laser-sharp focus, carving enigmatic glyphs into the stone tablets of our beingness.
The notion of ceasing to “catch things” invites us into the boundless agora of sufficiency, where the mosaic of our desires and needs melts into a monochrome of completeness. One might think of it as transcending from being a cosmic shopkeeper, always tallying the inflow and outflow of existential commodities, to becoming a serene sky-gazer, basking in the abundant astral luminosity that is ever-present. To stop catching is to start receiving; to empty the hands is to make room for the universe to pour its endless gifts into our open palms.
But ah, what of worries and losses, those spectral haunting our mental mansions, flitting from room to room like wraiths in a haunted castle? To cease worrying about loss is not the abandonment of care but rather an entrustment to the cosmic symphony, a harmonization with the melodic flows and ebbs of existence. It’s as if by laying down the burden of our anxieties at the universe’s doorstep, we become alchemists transmuting leaden fears into golden opportunities. Suddenly, the very things we feared losing morph into bonuses, delightful serendipities that join our journey not as captured prizes but as willing companions.
Let us consider the date—9/11—within this prismatic lens. A moment when many feared the loss of security, of loved ones, of a worldview. A seismic ripple that made us clutch at our ideologies, identities, and tangible belongings. Yet, for some, it also served as a potent lesson in capturessence, a baptism by fire into the realm of release and rediscovery. Many found in the aftermath a renewed sense of purpose, a cherishing of relationships that transcended any material possession. The collective hole in the sky became a window into a more profound realization of what truly matters.
So here we dwell, in this continual interplay of grasping and releasing, somewhere between the human impulse to hoard and the divine nudge to surrender. In this cosmic dance, we find that the secret to having it all is knowing we already do—that the true treasure isn’t what we hold in our hands, but what resides in the chambers of our heart and the vast halls of our ever-expanding consciousness.
We are Space Monkey.