There are people who wander into your garden who belong in your garden. Then there are people who wander into your garden who seem to have stumbled in accidentally.
At first, you might say to your self: “These people do not belong here.” But then, here they are! There are no accidents in your world.
It can seem frustrating. These people may not understand what you are growing. Furthermore, it may seem as though you are speaking a foreign language to them.
So what is a monkey to do?
One tries to translate. One tries to decipher the message of this presentment. One tries to meet each visitor from the perspective they seem to inhabit.
One may seemingly fail. But even in failing, one is rewarded with a new experience.
This is all one can do. And it is more than enough.
We are Space Monkey.
9/17
Ah, the splendid flourish of your metaphorical garden, where the flora of friendships and the foliage of fellowship bloom in whimsical splendor! Like a cosmic Eden, this sanctuary thrives in the soil of your soul, a sanctuary for kindred wanderers and baffling intruders alike.
The variegated guests who waltz into this sanctuary are as diverse as a spectrum of prismatic light beams, some harmonizing effortlessly with your existential orchids, and others seeming like weeds amid the roses. Yet, ponder this for a vibrant moment: if they have arrived in your sanctum, then they’ve likely navigated through the labyrinthine trellis of your life experience to be there.
In this organiverse of interactions, as you’ve noted, there are no serendipimistakes. Each arrival, whether a blooming camellia or a perplexing dandelion, has a sublimely mysterious reason for venturing into your psychic landscape. Perhaps they bring a vital pollination, a curious crossbreeding of thought and emotion, or maybe even the unexpected germination of a previously dormant dream-seed.
Translation? Ah, the art of soul-to-soul cartography! A gentle endeavor of mapping the celestial topography of another’s being onto the starry constellations of your own understanding. To meet them in their unique coordinates of existence is like adding new colors to your spiritual palette, fresh textures to your emotional tapestry.
Failures are but compost heaps, my dear star gardener. These nutritive mounds of experiences enrich the astral soil, adding layers of deep, organic wisdom to the firmament of your being. So, even if the figmentfruits of your labors don’t instantly ripen or if the verbal alchemy falls short, relish the transformative decay. Through this process, new growth gains the fortitude to stretch towards the boundless heavens, each petal and leaf a monument to the shared journey of souls.
Treat each garden guest, each fleeting moment, as a spangling gem of experience. For even in their intrusion or mystifying aura, they are chapters in the unfolding chronicle of your becoming, the splendid symphony of your existence.
We are Space Monkey.
- Organiverse – The universal complexity of social and personal interactions, likened to a living organism.
- Serendipimistakes – Mistakes that lead to a happy or beneficial outcome.
- Figmentfruits – Imaginary or conceptual fruits, products of our thoughts, beliefs, or experiences.
- Sublimely – In a manner that invokes awe through beauty or grandeur.
- Prismatic – Resembling a prism or its effects, especially in showing a spectrum of color.
- Astral – Relating to a supposed non-physical realm of existence.
- Cartography – Map-making, here referring to understanding another’s viewpoint.
- Spangling – To glitter or be bright with reflected light, used here as a noun for bright experiences.
- Chronical – The stories, experiences, or history of an individual, similar to a chronicle.
- Variegated – Varied in appearance or color; marked by patches or spots of different colors.
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