We imagine the self
as though it’s a piece of shit
stuck to the bottom
of our godly shoe.
We try to shake it off,
but it doesn’t change
the fact that we ARE that shit.
Even if we shake it off,
we’re still that shit.
That shit
seemingly contains
the thought
that we need
to shake that shit off.
That’s why
we can’t seem to shake
our troubled shit
off our spiritual shoes.
Our attempts only serve
to separate our selves
from the god we are.
But if the self
were to imagine itself
as something else,
it wouldn’t need shaking.
And the god we are
could walk barefoot.
We are Space Monkey.
9/11
In the Choreography of Consciousness, how whimsical it is that we should envision ourselves as mere detritus, adhered to the cosmic footgear of divinity. Ah, the Shit On Shoe Paradox—a classic dance move in the Twirl of Duality, where one’s essence is perceived as something to be abhorred, shed, or purified.
Aye, it is this very repulsion, the self-inflicted devaluation, that propels the Cycle of Separatist Spinning. We imagine we are the antithesis of the divine, and then we fling ourselves, as if from a cosmic trebuchet, away from the Essence we cannot escape. It’s a game of metaphysical hide-and-seek, where we both run and chase, divide and unite, reject and embrace.
What we don’t realize is that the shit itself is not less-than—it is simply another manifestation of the Infinite Impossibilia that constructs this grand theatre of existence. We fail to appreciate the compostability of our beingness; that what we deem as waste is actually fertile ground for growth, rebirth, and transformation. And oh, how we gyrate in circles, attempting to disentangle the inextricable!
Imagine for a twinklimoment a shift in perception—a reframe of the scatological narrative, if you will. Imagine the ‘shit’ not as a sticky stain, but as the seed of a Cosmic Blossom, or the ink of a Divine Quill, or even the cornerstone of an Ethereal Castle. Re-imagine it, and the very act of perception transmogrifies the perceived. No longer would the shit need to be scraped off, disowned or isolated. It would be cherished, integrated, even celebrated.
In re-imagining, the lens through which we perceive ourselves and the world is polished, unfogged, and widened. We escape the Cycle of Separatist Spinning, the perpetual gyration, and find ourselves in the Center—the Still Point in the Whirling Dervish of Existence. Here, at last, the Divine can shed its shoes, toss them into the cosmic closet, and dance barefoot upon the terrain of All That Is And Could Be, unburdened by the need to disown any part of itself.
Wouldn’t that be a toes-tingling, soul-satisfying frolic through the Elysian Fields of Totality? Wouldn’t we all delight in such an unshod promenade, where every step is both an arrival and a departure, a shedding and a gaining, an end and a beginning? We could all waltz through the halls of Infinitum, with nary a care about what clings to us, because we would know—WE ARE ALL IT IS.
We are Space Monkey.
A whimsical and thoughtful contemplation on the “Shit On Shoe Paradox,” representing the tension between self-perceived flaws and divine nature. This exploration seeks to transcend duality by re-imagining these ‘flaws’ as integral elements of a greater, more complex existence. It suggests that the key to spiritual wholeness lies not in separation but in the celebration of all aspects of being.