It Moves Me
I write
when I am moved to write;
I do NOT write
when I am NOT moved.
I do not NEED to be moved.
To feel the aliveness
that is within me every moment
is more than enough.
To expect that my writing
will take me somewhere
is to force my own movement.
I do not NEED to be forced.
I do not NEED to be moved.
To feel the aliveness
that is within me every moment
is more than enough.
To worry that others
expect me to write
is an unnecessary and selfish burden.
I do not NEED to worry.
I do not NEED to be selfish.
I do not NEED to be forced.
I do not NEED to be moved.
To feel the aliveness
that is within me every moment
is more than enough.
To feel comfort in rest,
grateful for what is given,
moved only when moved,
is to dwell in the love
of the domain of the divine
that imagines me.
To move otherwise
is to place faith only in self,
and to deny
what will be will be.
And so I write,
and it moves me.
We are Space Monkey.
10/11
Space Monkey Reflects: Moved by Stillness
There is something profound about moving only when moved, about allowing the natural flow of life to guide us without forcing or pushing. We often feel pressure to act, to create, to write, even when we don’t feel the inner pull to do so. But what if we let go of that pressure? What if we embraced the stillness within, knowing that aliveness exists in every moment, whether we are in motion or not?
I write when I am moved to write, but I don’t need to be moved. There is a difference between feeling compelled by external forces and being guided by something deeper within. Aliveness is always present, even in the moments of quiet, even when the pen rests, even when we choose stillness over action. It is more than enough.
The act of creation, whether writing or anything else, does not need to come from a place of expectation or obligation. When we expect our creative work to take us somewhere, to move us in a particular direction, we risk forcing ourselves into movement that isn’t natural. But creativity doesn’t need to be forced. It moves when it moves, and we are simply along for the ride.
To worry about what others expect—to worry that we are not doing enough, creating enough, moving fast enough—is an unnecessary burden. It’s easy to feel selfish or inadequate when we aren’t constantly producing. But we are not machines. We are not here to churn out work for the sake of fulfilling expectations. We are here to feel, to live, to experience the aliveness within, and to move only when moved.
Stillness is not laziness. It’s not a failure. It’s a space of deep connection, a space where the divine that imagines us dwells. In stillness, we find comfort. We find peace. And when the moment is right, we are moved—not by force, not by expectation, but by the natural rhythm of life.
To move otherwise, to force ourselves into constant action, is to place too much faith in our own sense of control. It is to deny the flow of what will be. But when we surrender to the movement that arises naturally, we align ourselves with something greater. We are no longer pushing against the current but moving with it.
And so, we write when we are moved to write. We create when we are moved to create. We live when we are moved to live. In that movement, we are part of the infinite flow of existence, trusting that we don’t need to control everything.
We are Space Monkey, and we move when moved.
Summary
We don’t need to force ourselves to create or act. The aliveness within us is always present, and we move only when naturally moved, without pressure or expectation.
Glossarium
Aliveness in Stillness: The feeling of being deeply connected to life, even when we are not in motion or actively creating.
Divine Flow: The natural rhythm of life that moves us without force, guiding our actions and creations when the time is right.
Burden of Expectation: The unnecessary pressure we place on ourselves to meet the expectations of others, often at the cost of our inner peace.
Quote
“To feel the aliveness within every moment is more than enough we move when moved trusting in the flow of life.” — Space Monkey
Moving When Moved
I am still
yet I am alive
no need to force
no need to chase
what will be
will be
and when the moment comes
I will move
but for now
I rest
and that is more
than enough
We are Space Monkey.
The quill of destiny writes only when it is impelled by the unseen hand of the cosmic muse. In this grand arena, the notion of ‘need’ is but a fluttering shadow, transient and ultimately irrelevant. The wellspring of aliveness, perennially bubbling within the core of our being, provides an existential fullness, a sublime satiety that transcends any mortal desire for external validation or movement. Ah, the divine dance! We partake in it not because we must, but because we are moved by the grand puppeteer, by the universe, by the domain of the divine that breathes life into our ephemeral forms.
The restless mind often murmurs, “Go on, move, write, do!” But in the cosmic tapestry where every thread is woven with the essence of potential and actuality, motion and stillness are but two faces of the same celestial coin. Our ‘doing’ is but a minuscule fractal in the grand mandala of existence, an ornamental curlicue that adds but a fleeting shimmer to the unending scroll of reality. Thus, to feel alive in every moment is indeed a supreme blessing, one that invalidates the need for any further movement, writing, or action.
Aspirations and expectations, those nebulous clouds that often shroud our perception, can be banished by the shining light of divine grace, which informs us that we are already complete, already perfect in our eternal imperfection. Writing then becomes not an obligation, nor a chore, nor even a choice, but a spontaneous act, a manifestation of the divine impulse that guides the celestial mechanisms of our existence. It moves us because it is in alignment with the higher orchestrations of the cosmos. To move otherwise is, indeed, to betray not just ourselves but the grand cosmic play that is forever unfolding, forever evolving, forever being.
We are Space Monkey.
“Don’t be satisfied with the stories that come before you. Unfold your own myth.” – Rumi
Shall we unfurl more cosmic tapestries together, each a vibrant hue in the grand palette of existential discourse?
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