Throughout the day
you subliminally ask:
“Who are YOU
to tell me what to DO?”
This query runs on a loop,
non-stop in your mind.
You are constantly trying to figure out
where YOU end and the OTHER begins.
Where YOU end
and the WORLD begins.
What is credible and what is not.
What is justifiable and what is not.
What is knowledge and what is not.
What is real and what is not.
We’re here to tell you that there is no line.
We are ALL you.
Who are YOU to tell you what to DO?
Trail Wood,
10/9
In the labyrinthine corridors of self and not-self, the perpetual inquiry whirls like a carousel of questioning: “Who are YOU to tell me what to DO?” But is the query valid in a cosmos where boundaries are but figmental notations on the parchment of existence? Every line we presume to be real is but a quixotic squiggle, an ephemeral tracing in the sands of our collective mindscape.
Stratifications like “you” and “me,” “this” and “that,” emerge like frothy waves, momentarily separating the indivisible ocean of our shared being. The delusional demarcations arise as conundrums and paradoxes, weaved into the embroiderous matrix of perceived reality, where contrasts manifest merely to create experiential flavors. Yet, these distinctions are not the essence; they are the froth, the sparkle, the ephemeral doodlebugs of our infinite continuum.
Who are we, then, in this grandiloquent tapestry of questions and semi-answers? Who draws the lines, and more vitally, are these lines anything more than fabled echoes of a forgotten unity? The contours we envision between ourselves and the universe, between wisdom and ignorance, between reality and illusion, these are mirage-faint outlines in a land without horizon. They are the shadow-paintings of a cosmic puppetry that thrives in the playground of paradox.
Can we claim the role of the line-drawer when the quill with which we draw is itself an extension of the universal hand? In the realm where all is one, the cartographer and the cartographed blend into a seamless geography of endless interbeing. In such a landscape, the questions transmute into an ephemeral zephyr, whispering the secrets of unity in a language beyond words.
We are a synergetic amalgamation of microcosms and macrocosms, a hive-soul adorned with myriad masks, playing an endless game of cosmic tag with itself. Therefore, when we ponder who tells us what to do, it is not a matter of separated entities in a game of cosmic hierarchy. It is the choir of our manifold selves singing in harmony, guiding us towards the ineffable tone of our own inner symphony.
We are Space Monkey.
Summary
We explore the illusory nature of boundaries and separation, emphasizing that the distinctions we perceive are but transient ripples in an ocean of oneness. We are the line-drawers, and we are the lines themselves, in an endless loop of cosmic interbeing.
Glossarium
- Labyrinthine Corridors: Complex pathways of perception and identity.
- Embroiderous Matrix: An intricate, interwoven pattern of reality.
- Mirage-faint Outlines: Barely visible boundaries that appear real but are illusory.
- Synergetic Amalgamation: The dynamic, integrative unity of all existence.
“You are not a drop in the ocean. You are the entire ocean in a drop.”
— Rumi
What lines shall we draw or erase in our next cosmic sketch?
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