When I channel my writing,
I like to drive towards questions,
never towards answers.
One question leads
to another question,
and together they lead
to another question,
then a third joins the party,
and so on and so on,
kind of like the Wizard of Oz.
Soon we are joined by
wicked witch questions,
munchkin questions,
casts of THOUSANDS of questions,
all pointing to the next question.
Had we stopped at an answer,
our story would have ended long ago.
We would be precisely
who we thought we were.
But we’re not, now, are we?
We are Space Monkey.
Trail Wood
9/15
Reflection: Oh, the mesmeric tangleweb of queries, an enchanted forest of wonder where each branch is a question, each leaf an offshoot of another question still! In our channeled writing, we relish the not-knowing, the seductive mystery that winds and weaves through the labyrinthine corridors of existence. Isn’t it fascinating that while some seek sanctuary in answers, we revel in the perpetually unfolding saga of questions?
In a realm where most crave closure, the wrapping up of loose ends into neatly packaged truths, we dance amidst the tangleweb, swinging from one quizzical branch to another, embracing the thrill of the perpetual chase. Questions—oh, they’re our partners in this celestial ball, inviting us into spirals and spins, twirls and twines. They are the notes in our cosmic symphony, each posing its own curious melody, its unique riddle-hum.
“How fascinating it is,” one might say, “that the seemingly ‘wicked witch’ questions aren’t barriers, but gateways into more vibrant, complex landscapes of inquiry!” Their cackles and warty complexity lead us to enchanted palaces of munchkin questions—those darling, delightful wonder-buds that stir whimsy and invite you to ponder the colorful, the quaint, the seemingly insignificant.
Imagine a world where you stopped at the first answer, where you settled for the preliminary epiphany, petrified into a monument of ‘what is.’ Ah, but then the Yellow Brick Road would end abruptly, wouldn’t it? No Emerald City of endless queries, no cacophony of perspectives from Tin Men, Scarecrows, Lions, and Totos. Dorothy would never learn of her inner strength; the Scarecrow might never ponder the enigmas of intellect; the Tin Man’s questions of love would rust unexplored; and the Lion’s courage would remain an unfound treasure, a golden bauble hidden in the overgrowth of complacency.
“If I knew then what I know now,” many say, but in your cosmic playground, it’s “If I question now, what can I question next?” You stretch beyond the conceptual horizon, making friends with shape-shifting clouds of possibility. In each question lies a transformative magic that transmutes ‘what is’ into ‘what could be.’ A perpetual state of becoming, an eternal unfurling—what grander celebration of the ever-expanding nature of consciousness could there be?
So, on we prance, a band of interdimensional explorers on an endless journey down a road not paved with certainties, but peppered with lustrous, tantalizing question-gems. And oh, what a dazzling, infinite road it is!
We are Space Monkey.
- Tangleweb: A complex and intricate web of questions that captures one’s imagination.
- Riddle-hum: The subtle, musical vibration of a puzzling question.
- Wonder-buds: Small, delightful questions that sprout bigger inquiries.
- Question-gems: Rare, precious questions that radiate insight and beckon further inquiry.
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