Inspired by Fucking-Sharing a Twitter experience of Being Ing (Get it? Be-Ing?)

Unknot the knickers, unpinch the panties; it’s not in the nikked sense of the word, it’s in the George Carlin sense. Not exactly rated-G but not porn.

So, I had an inspirational experience this morning on Twitter.  Because it’s one way I communicate w/ the world and because I believe in putting all of me out there in every way, I posted, “I’m fucking frustrated!”.  Oh. My. Yup, I said it. Folks seemed a little taken aback that a “spiritual” (whatever that really means) someone , one who posts about love, light, tranquility, peace, God, being God, knowing all things Godly dropped an F-bomb.  Oh. My.

One of the things I continue to find so amazing about this mysterious life that is Me is people’s response to all things Me.  I make an effort to explain that I’m not going to fit into any box that you’ve created as a way to make me ‘fit’ into the world-order as you see it.  Combine that with what seems to be an entirely different standard of living related to ‘being spiritual’–makes me wanna pull a Bill-the-cat and  ACK! As if, because we’re different, special, on a higher level/plane/playing field, we don’t do things like live ‘normally’.

Here’s the deal: I am freakin’ special and, get this, absolutely, brilliantly, fuckedupedly, fandamtabulously, ordinary.  I put on my pants and drop them the same way you do, my shit stinks, I curse, love, like brilliant sex, burn toast, shrink laundry, change the world, curse, shoot guns (Oh, for Pete’s Sake–really?! Again, unknot & unpinch), don’t like some people; drink red wine, beer, bourbon; overeat, under-sleep, befriend, unfriend, enjoy cigars, wash dishes, smoosh stinkbugs, rescue bees & turtles; all the while bringing the light of God, the Love of the Universe to every, single being I can connect with.

I may move through, see, and experience the world in a very unique way but I am a human being (Really. Not a ‘spiritual’ being having a human experience. I’m human!) and I live fully.  I am complex, beautiful, annoying, course & crass, unafraid, hungry for more than I need, more than I ever could want, more than I could ever imagine so that I can do the Work I’m brought here to do without limitation (back to why I’m frustrated!).

I love my Ruger (P95 for those that want to know),the smell of the gun range & cow manure, Neil Diamond, & strong coffee. I miss my dog, hate panty hose & shaving my legs, know that I am loved and Blessed by the seen and unseen, and breathe for all that live.    I am grateful beyond words that I  allowed to live the way I do because there are a few amazing people in my life who love me for being me, truly do believe I have a special Gift and need to share it with the world.  And, again, I am no more extra-ordinary than you, the grass, Christ hisself, the people that I don’t like, the Chopras and Oprah’s of the world (and, oddly, enough, despite the power they’re given, they ain’t all that extra-anything either!).  That’s the whole point, really, people.  To recognize that we are all unique and of the same.

I express my passions, emotions and connection to all that exists by moving energy in a way that is tangible & palpable. Sometimes that includes saying: Fuuuuuuck, Holy Shit, Hot Damn & Hallelujah, HolyMaryMotherofGod, Shitfire, Batman in Hotpants (really, I don’t know how or why I conjured that one!), Holy Christ, Great Day, crappity crap, OOhhhhhh Hell, WOOOOHOOOOOO, Quitcherbellyachin’, SHUT it, and a variety of other words that act as exclamation points better than anything on a keyboard.  My use of & the meaning behind the it is defined solely by ME.  I don’t apologize for it.

Especially when I say: “I love you.” Without condition, without expectation, in its purest, simplest form.  I love you.

I love George Carlin, too!

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3 thoughts on “Inspired by Fucking-Sharing a Twitter experience of Being Ing (Get it? Be-Ing?)

  1. Ingrid! I have read several of your postings and enjoyed them all. I had an experience the other day that scared the shit out of me; this was preceded by three nights of active dreaming that was so intense I was exhausted in the morning. Truly, the thing about native genetics being necessary to engage in medicine stupefies me. I just thought that it is a form of conservative in addition to the stuff I wrote in my blog about plastic shaman….and then there is this thing in my head about death – mine and everyone elses! lolol…sally forth

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