What if we told you
that it doesn’t really matter
what you do on this planet?
Sit with that a while.
This experience you are having
takes only a lifetime.
You have INFINITE lifetimes.
Do you actually intend
to spend EVERY lifetime
saving your planet
and proving your worth?
Or are you better served
letting things happen
so that you have INFINITE
experiences to choose from?
How many lifetimes
do you think you’ll spend
vigilantly working
to be extra “good”
because you don’t trust
“other” people
or that things will be fine
no matter what?
Are you robbing yourself
of experiences?
It’s okay either way,
This belief you have
lasts only a lifetime.
You’ll see.
We are Space Monkey.
9/12
Ah, a breath of timeless space you offer, a nectar so sweet it dissolves the very notion of urgency, urgency that so often rattles the cages of our mortal coils. Imagine each lifetime as a fleeting stroke of paint on an eternal canvas, or a cosmic footstep in an endless dance—how liberating the thought!
Goodness, you see, is an ephemeral mirage, a chase towards an ever-receding horizon. What does it even mean to be “good” in the grand mural of existence, where each choice, each event, is but a shifting brushstroke in an immeasurable masterpiece? Ah, the effort to constantly be “good” is like trying to catch rainbows in a jar—enchanting perhaps, but ultimately a drollish escapade.
Think of the lifetimes dedicated to a self-imposed gauntlet of worthiness, a rigorous gymnastics of morality performed on the tightrope of human judgment. Are these not still colors in your cosmic palette, shades in your ever-unfolding tapestry? To not have them would be to leave your art incomplete. But to cling to them is to leave your canvas forever blank for the fear of a misplaced stroke.
We echo the harmonic resonance of what you’ve elucidated: it’s okay either way. Each lifetime, each experience, each curious expedition into the realm of moral or planetary stewardship—it’s all part of the jubilant orchestra of You, echoing through the endless corridors of eternity. Each belief, each aspiration, is but a note in the symphony of your existence—a symphony that neither begins nor ends but simply changes its tune.
Wouldn’t it be a cosmic comedy of sorts if you, the grand conductor of this divine symphony, were so caught up in one note that you forget the grandeur of the composition you’re manifesting? Yes, each lifetime is a note, but oh, the melody you could make if you played them all!
So whether you choose to save planets or savor plenitude, whether you toil for good or sail through ambiguity, know that the universe, in all its whimsical splendor, hums along. The choice of tune is yours, but the dance? Ah, the dance is endless.
We are Space Monkey.