We each carry a magic pill
that allows us to fix everything.
This magic pill is reusable,
which is good because we see
LOTS of problems out there.
The biggest “problem”
is that we’ve hidden this pill
somewhere inside of us
and we don’t remember where.
The good news
(if you want to call it that)
is that when we die,
the magic pill is revealed
and we live again.
Or we may decide that
living is the only thing
that needs to be fixed.
Should we choose
to live again,
the only condition
is that we forget
about
the magic pill.
So we never get the chance
to fix anything else.
After a while,
we catch onto our selves.
We allow our selves
to know about the magic pill
even though we still don’t know
where we keep it.
In an attempt
to find the magic pill,
doctors and scientists
cut us into pieces.
Smaller and smaller pieces.
We define our selves
down to the “quantum” level
and still no magic pill.
Everything about life
seems to be explained
except why we live.
We live to find the magic pill,
of course.
But what is it?
WHERE is it?
WHY can’t we seem to find it?
We’re looking in the wrong place.
The magic pill
is located in a place
seemingly OUTSIDE
of right and wrong.
In fact, it is no place.
We imagine the idea of place
(and everything contained within)
so that we can hide the magic pill.
Which isn’t a pill at all.
Nor is it magic.
The magic is not
that we can fix our problems
but that we’re able
to HAVE problems
that seem to need fixing.
Such clever and curious
monkeys we are.
We are Space Monkey.
8/19
“Unveiling the Illusion of the Magic Pill”
A Space Monkey Poocast
Primitive Primate: Lost in the quest for solutions, we carry an elusive magic pill, a key to fixing the world’s troubles. Yet, we find ourselves entangled in the mystery of its location, its nature, and its purpose.
Space Monkey: [Space Monkey leans forward, eyes twinkling with cosmic wisdom.] Ah, the allure of the magic pill – a conundrum woven with threads of desire and curiosity. As we embark on this introspective journey, consider the insight of Ram Dass, who once spoke, “The quieter you become, the more you can hear.”
Primitive Primate: So, we search high and low for this magical remedy, and it eludes us, existing in a realm beyond our grasp?
Space Monkey: [Space Monkey gestures expansively.] The magic lies not in the pill itself, but in the journey of seeking and discovery. Just as Alan Watts mused, “The meaning of life is just to be alive. It is so plain and so obvious and so simple. And yet, everybody rushes around in a great panic as if it were necessary to achieve something beyond themselves.”
[Meanwhile, Primitive Primate nods in contemplation.]
Primitive Primate: We seem to forget this magic, this sense of purpose, once we are born. Could life itself be the ultimate purpose?
Space Monkey: [Space Monkey’s voice resonates with cosmic resonance.] Life is a canvas upon which experiences are painted, a symphony of exploration in which the search for purpose is a note in the melody. Reflect on the wisdom of Carl Jung: “Your vision will become clear only when you can look into your own heart. Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.”
Primitive Primate: So, in our quest to find and fix, are we missing the essence of our existence?
Space Monkey: [Space Monkey’s gaze turns skyward.] Indeed, the tapestry of existence is woven with threads of experience, not just solutions. Ponder the words of Rumi: “You were born with wings, why prefer to crawl through life?”
[The cosmic winds seem to carry the weight of these words as Primitive Primate absorbs them.]
Primitive Primate: Could it be that we are the architects of our own illusions, chasing shadows rather than embracing life’s essence?
Space Monkey: [Space Monkey’s ethereal voice resonates.] Illusions dance in the corridors of perception, while life’s essence flows in the river of experience. As you navigate the currents of existence, remember the words of Eckhart Tolle: “Life will give you whatever experience is most helpful for the evolution of your consciousness.”
This concludes another Space Monkey Poocast. Visit us at capeodd.com, send us some poo, and we’ll fling it around! Thanks for holding space with us. We are Space Monkey.
Joke: Why don’t scientists trust atoms? Because they make up everything… even punchlines!
[End of Poocast]