Nigger, nigger, nigger, nigger, nigger, nigger...

I frequently feel the judgment of the PC police in many spiritual circles. Common topics in those circles are “reverence” and “respect.” Not that these are bad things; I can express them when called to do so. But I also have the habit of peppering my discourse with words such as “fuck,” and “shit,” and pop-culture references and liberal doses of double entendre, innuendo and sarcasm. “Fuck,” may or may not be disrespectful in a spiritual context – I am not posting an opinion about that here. What I am opinionated about is not the use of or lack of swear words in a spiritual context, but the judgment that is generally lobbied against me, not by God, but by another human being, as being “disrespectful, or “irreverent,” because I might have let the word “fuck” slip out during a meditation circle. I mean, sacre bleu! It’s as if that one little word has the power to make God disappear from the building. I’ve got news for you – I am not that powerful. And neither are words.

Yes, yes yes. I know that words are important – that integrity requires using words that we mean, and aligning what we say with our actions. Right action, however, is the subject of another post. Please do not assign the following theory of intent to what you do, only to what you say. Because it’s not the words themselves that are important – words are only symbols to which we have assigned, and communally agreed upon, a meaning. The minute I decide that “dog” means something other than your beloved pet Spot, then it means something else to me, agreement be damned. That is the fallibility of words. Listen to the old Lenny Bruce routine which so profoundly demonstrated this concept back in the ‘60s (and from which I borrowed the title of this post). Further more, if words were all that important, then what’s a poor, illiterate person supposed to do? Are we going to tell him that he cannot aspire to greater heights of enlightenment unless he not only knows but can correctly use the word “agape,” or “ascension,” or “sabikalpa samadhi?” Ya, I think you’re getting it now.

In my family history, spouses like to use endearments like “poop-face,” “jerk,” and “you rat bastard.” Yes, En.Dear.Ments. Which may be why I discern that what’s important about words, or at least what God cares about anyway, is intent. I mean, does it make sense that God who, granted, gave us the Grand Canyon, cats and peonies, but who also simultaneously gave us underarm odor, vomit and farts would be offended by the word “fuck?” That doesn’t compute in my brain. You know what else? He can also handle all the tirades I lob at him. He actually understands and has compassion for my anger. Unlike most humans whose eyes either glaze over as they internally search for their “happy place,” or who quickly change the subject to hopefully disperse my anger. So tell me, is it better that I tell you to fuck off? Or would you rather that I told God to fuck off? Frankly, I’ve always felt that he finds my saltiness kind of amusing and as desirable a color in the rainbow of humanity as sweetness and reverence. Polly PC doesn’t taste nearly as sweet without the likes of me against which to compare her.

If a spiritual journey is about the search for freedom, then using political correctness to elevate oneself above another – which is how it is frequently used, at least against me – is just another form of separation – an anti-spiritual practice that would imprison instead of freeing oneself. Only in this context, it disguises itself as “spiritual” and that’s the part that really steams me. Nothing tempts me more into letting loose a string of four-letter epithets than that Knowing/Admonishing glance or the softly spoken but steely wielded reminder to “be respectful” that I sometimes get in group spiritual settings. Because I know it’s the human, not God, who would be offended. To my credit I don’t recall ever succumbing to that particular temptation, but boy oh boy oh boy…

I am here to remind you – God doesn’t care if you swear. Honestly. In fact, the next time I pray, I’m going to address my prayer to “Oh holy mother fucker!!”

A-goddamned-men.