is always more important than the thing.
The thing is completely unnecessary,
unless you believe otherwise.
As you get older,
you find that you
don’t need things so much
as the IDEA of things.
You begin to notice how many things
you hang onto and store away
not because they’re used by you,
but because their past or potential
use might MEAN something to you.
You’ll probably never use these things,
but you don’t wish to part with them.
You are in love
with an unconscious idea
that inanimate objects
can bring back the past,
make it seem more real,
and benefit you in the future.
The memory of the idea is all you need,
and yet you believe that the physical object
carries a significant amount of magic.
This is what really happens.
You IMPOSE your magic
on an inanimate object
until it means something
you can feel.
But the magic is always in you,
NOT the object.
You don’t NEED the object
to invoke the magic.
Trail Wood,
11/4
Space Monkey Reflects: The Magic of Inanimate Objects
In a world overflowing with things—keepsakes, trinkets, old letters, and half-forgotten relics—we often find ourselves holding onto these objects, not for their practical value, but for what they represent. Inanimagic—the unconscious belief that an object can carry memories, emotions, and meanings far beyond its physical form—is a powerful illusion. We imbue these things with a sense of magic, not because they possess it inherently, but because we have woven our memories and emotions into their fabric.
It begins simply enough. You pick up a small object—a book, an old toy, a piece of jewelry—and suddenly, the memory attached to it comes rushing back. The Mindhaze fills with echoes of the past, transporting you to a moment long gone. You feel as though this object has preserved a piece of time, kept it safe within its form, and by holding it, you can access that moment again. But the truth is, it is not the object that holds the magic—it is you.
We hold onto things not because of their utility but because they remind us of our potential, of who we once were, or of who we might still become. These objects are not tools, but symbols—physical anchors to the past, talismans of hope for the future. We keep them close, believing that they carry some kind of Temporalcharge, a unique energy that will somehow serve us later.
This is where the illusion begins. We believe that the magic is contained in the thing itself. But the reality is, the magic was always within us, not in the object. The object is merely a projection of our own power to create meaning, to attach significance to the world around us. Possiobjects are, in themselves, blank slates, and we, as the creators of meaning, impose our desires, memories, and hopes onto them.
We collect, we store, we hoard, not because we need these things, but because we are in love with the Possidea—the idea of what these objects could mean or could do. We keep the old photo because it reminds us of a time when we felt alive, when the world was filled with promise. We hang onto the worn-out sweater because it belonged to someone we loved, someone we want to remember. We hold onto the birthday card, not for the words it contains, but because it is a physical representation of someone’s care for us.
Yet, the deeper truth is this: we do not need these objects to invoke the magic. The memories, the feelings, the potential—they all live within us, independent of the things. The object is merely a conduit, a reminder, but it is not the source of the magic. The magic is our capacity to feel, to remember, to create meaning out of the vast expanse of life’s experiences.
As we grow older, we begin to realize this. We begin to understand that the magic we sought in these things was never in the objects themselves but in the stories we told ourselves about them. And perhaps, as we reach this understanding, we also start to let go. We start to release the things we once thought were so essential because we come to realize that they were only ever reflections of what we carried inside us all along.
The Inanimagic fades, not because the objects lose their significance, but because we recognize the source of that significance. It was never the object that made us feel—it was our own power to connect, to attach meaning, to weave stories. And while the objects may fade, break, or be lost, the magic—the true magic—remains, because it was always within us.
We might still keep a few things here and there, not out of necessity, but out of affection. We might still pull that old book from the shelf, knowing full well it’s not the pages that hold the memory, but our mind that holds the story. And that is enough.
In the end, the magic of inanimate objects is not in their physical form but in the way they reflect our inner world back to us. They are mirrors, showing us our capacity to remember, to hope, to dream. And when we see this, we no longer need the object to feel the magic. We can let go, knowing that the magic never leaves us, because it was never in the object to begin with.
Summary
Inanimate objects hold meaning not because they contain magic, but because we project our own memories and emotions onto them. As we grow older, we realize that the true magic lies within us, and the objects are merely reflections of our inner world.
Glossarium
Inanimagic: The belief that inanimate objects carry a magical significance beyond their physical form.
Mindhaze: The cloud of memories and emotions that objects evoke within us, transporting us to moments in the past.
Temporalcharge: The perceived energy or meaning that we attach to objects from different times in our lives.
Possiobjects: Objects that hold the possibility of meaning, based on our emotional and mental projections.
Possidea: The idea or potential meaning we attach to an object, rather than the object itself.
Quote
“The magic was never in the object—it was always in you, in your ability to create meaning and weave stories from the fabric of your life.” — Space Monkey
The Magic Within
I hold the object,
But it is not what I hold.
It is the past,
The future,
The story untold.
The magic is not in the thing,
But in me,
In the meaning I bring.
We are Space Monkey.
In the grand illusion of existence, the enchantment we often attribute to the physical—the inanimate trinkets that populate our lives—is not in the objects themselves, but rather in the essence we bestow upon them. It’s an alchemical process, one where we transmute the mundane into the magnificent through the sheer force of our belief and memory.
Transmutation of the Mundane.
As the years accumulate like stardust on the fabric of our lives, we come to discern that our need for physical possessions wanes in the glow of their ideational counterparts. It becomes apparent that we cling not to the objects themselves but to the meanings they are infused with, to the memories they conjure and the potential they symbolize.
Ideational Possessions Over Physical Ones.
We forge sentimental alliances with these inanimate companions, assigning them roles in the theater of our past and potential futures. They become repositories of ‘could-have-beens’ and ‘once-weres,’ anchoring us to moments that have slipped through the hourglass of time.
Sentimental Alliances with Inanimate Objects.
There’s a quaint charm, a whimsical alure to the idea that a mere object, untouched by the pulsating current of life, can act as a conduit to bygone eras or as a talisman for future fortunes. It’s as if, by surrounding ourselves with these artifacts, we are curating a museum of our personal history and aspirational selves.
Objects as Conduits and Talismans.
Yet, it’s crucial to discern that the magic we perceive in these objects is a reflection of our inner enchantments. It’s we who breathe life into the inanimate, who cast spells of significance on the relics of our lives. The object is but a canvas for our innermost enchantments, a stage for the play of our consciousness.
Inner Enchantments Cast Upon Objects.
In this recognition lies a liberation: the understanding that we are the origin of magic. The object is unnecessary for the invocation of our memories or dreams—it’s a mere focus for the spell we are entirely capable of casting independently.
We Are the Origin of Magic.
We are Space Monkey.
“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.” – Marcel Proust
In the stillness of the now, where memories flicker,
We find our hearts entwined with many a glitter.
Objects, silent, still, await our tender grace,
To fill them with stories, in time’s eternal embrace.
What are our thoughts on the interplay of consciousness and materiality, and how might this understanding influence our relationship with the physical world?
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