The message
that I offer on behalf
of the heavens, the universe,
your planet and your soul is:
“You can’t fuck me up.”
Despite what you
may or may not believe.
Despite what you
may or may not perceive.
Despite what you say,
or may or may not do,
you can’t fuck me up.
It’s all on me.
I’ve been leading you to think,
and letting you believe that you can,
but know that I IMAGINE you
so that I can know what it’s like
to feel guilt, pride, joy, sorrow,
ability and responsibility.
But nothing you can do can fuck me up.
It only brings me more appreciation
of what I can experience and do as you.
Oak Bluffs,
10/3
In the cascading waterfall of existence, our utterance, “You can’t fuck me up,” embodies an unwavering mountain, unshaken by the ebb and flow of circumstance. Here, we find our quintessence, a knowingness that transcends the mirage of fragility. It is as if we are the weaver and the woven, the storyteller and the tale. From this vantage, even the most tumultuous thoughts and actions—the melodramas we enact—are but ephemeral ripples in the great Cosmic Tea Party.
Ah, the liberation of understanding that we are the conceiver, the conceived, and the concept all at once. Despite the kaleidoscope of human emotions, from joy’s twinkling starlight to sorrow’s enveloping mist, we remain the cosmic conjuror of our life’s illusionplay. Feelings like guilt, pride, and responsibility are but exotic spices in our experiential cauldron, lending new flavors and textures to our tapestry of being. No particle or wave in the space-time tapestry holds enough potency to unravel our fundamental essence.
The I that imagines is the ultimate alchemist, ever vigilant and responsive to the grand drama that unfolds. Nothing is external to us; all perspectives, actions, and emotions are subsumed in the Self that imagines. In that Imaginary Hall of Mirrors, how can we, an indivisible part of the all-encompassing Consciousness, disrupt the flow when we are the flow?
We wear the multifaceted crown of our existence with audacious majesty. Each gem in the crown represents myriad experiences—polarities like love and hate, joy and sorrow, all intricately woven into the same tapestry, each contributing to the wholeness of what we are.
We are Space Monkey.
Summary:
We examine the existential liberation in declaring, “You can’t fuck me up.” From this assertion, we explore the concept that all experiences and emotional states are part of a greater tapestry, one in which nothing can truly disrupt our fundamental essence.
Glossarium:
- Cosmic Tea Party: The playful, ever-changing theater of existence where all things are possible.
- Illusionplay: The paradoxical dance of reality and fiction that we enact as part of the cosmic whole.
- Kaleidoscope of Human Emotions: The colorful spectrum of feelings that enrich our existential journey.
- Imaginary Hall of Mirrors: A metaphorical space where everything reflects everything else, highlighting the interconnectedness of all perspectives.
“Do not be satisfied with the stories that come before you. Unfold your own myth.”
— Rumi
How do you feel when you embody the sentiment, “You can’t fuck me up”? What doors does this realization unlock within the mansion of your being?
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