If God Has A Cursing Jar – I’m Screwed

Oh don’t you get all high and mighty on me.

Like you’ve never thought this…or something worse!

Listen, I got an email from a reader, Lisa, who commented on my swearing (she liked the fact that I talked, and these are her words: like a real person), and asked me as someone with a spiritual blog, if I ever lost my temper with people and flipped them off or cursed at them.

Uh…yeah.

Lisa, first of all I think its darling that you aren’t sure about that. Have you met me?
I’m human, with all the faults, flaws and bird-flipping that guarantees.
Lisa, still in doubt, check this out:
http://www.theobserversvoice.com/2014/12/no-amount-of-shitty-is-worth-sacrificing-a-whole-day/

As this blog  has progressed over the years, I starting asking myself: Self, why are you writing this?  And the answer was simple. Because most of the spiritual wisdom that had been around for years has been pretty damn dry and the people who write it sound like living saints; tempers in check, always making the right choices, with no mis-steps or mistakes to speak of.

Well, I don’t know about you all, but that’s not me.

When I talk I use the word fuck –– often. So when I write, it sneaks in. Also shit and assbite and all the other splendid, wildly descriptive words that spellcheck attempts to change to something more docile.

I’m not making excuses, I can’t stand excuses, but if I were –– It’s probably from working around men all my life, I’ve written about living my thirties as a man, and one of side effects is a mouth like a sailor.
http://www.theobserversvoice.com/2014/06/the-gender-of-champions/

It is never my intent to offend anyone, but I write what I know and I’ve gotta be who I am.
I figure if someone logs on and is horrified by my language, or the content or even a graphic about a chair in the face –– they’re not my people and they’ll just move along.

The bottom line is this you guys: You can have a forty-year (gulp –– fuck I’m old) meditation practice, read every spiritual book you can get your hands on, Om and chant and stand on your head, and still have a bad day inside this glorious human life we all have the privilege of living.

And as for the F-bombs? Well, I think I’m okay –– unless God has one of those cursing jars that require you to contribute a dollar for every swear word. If that’s the case –– I’m screwed.

I hope that answers your question Lisa, and thanks for reading!

Carry on you salty dogs,
xox