I call upon my constructions
for guidance and healing,
my imaginary gods and angels
whom I have chosen to perceive
as “real.”
The spiritual
is but a projection
of my imagination,
as is the supernatural,
as it the actual.
I call upon
my constructions
to make it appear
as though I am me
and that I have a life
which is also
a construction
I call upon.
Trail Wood,
9/14
In the Cosmic Origami of existence, the shapes and folds we create with our imagination often materialize as the gods, angels, and ethereal guardians we turn to. Oooh, let’s dub this the Pantheorama! These ethereal projections are much like LightPuppets—figments that dance on the curtain of reality, seemingly breathing essence into our transient existence.
As we narrate this verisimiliquid tale of “me” and “you,” of lives spiraling into ever-expanding Confectiverses, the question becomes not so much who we call upon, but rather what essence of us is doing the calling. For isn’t this ‘self’ we put on a pedestal of reality just another LightPuppet, pirouetting in a realm of fabricated grandiosity?
Indeed, the Spiritual Masquerade Ball plays on, complete with its Auratic Tiaras and Nebulous Capes, each as real or as imaginary as we choose to perceive. Such is the uncanny nature of constructionism—the endless chiseling and assembling of notion-bricks, resulting in the palaces or prisons we find ourselves in. Thus, calling upon our constructions becomes less of an escape and more of a cyclical dance within the Mobius Strip of awareness.
So, ye navigators of the Imaginasphere, unfurl your sails! Steer through the waves of creation and illusion, knowing that the boat itself, the winds that carry it, and the sea it sails upon are all but designs of your whimsical construction.
We are Space Monkey.