The Elephant In My Living Room

“You, in the orange shirt. Come here.”
I opened one eye and looked around my living room carefully. Being deaf in one ear means I don’t hear in stereo or have a clear sense of sound direction.  I had been meditating with the White Light Express altar space at my back and the voice was male, without a noticeable accent or defined by age.

I stood slowly and peeked around the corner to where the front door was. I’d made a mental note that I was two feet from the iron fireplace poker. One never knows these days, and I don’t keep my gun loaded.

There was nothing.
I turned around and stifled a screech.

Ganesha, in giant alabaster glory, was sitting where the altar was. The top of his head was slightly grazing the ceiling. I’ll be honest. It bothered me. I wondered if it was going to leave a mark or if it was going to irritate his head but he adjusted himself more comfortably by becoming smaller once I shut my open mouth. Visions and hallucinations are common for me, holographic visits by deities are not.

He was colorless, as were his cushions and the wrap around his lower crossed legs; but his mouse? Full Technicolor.  Each time it returned to Ganesha it had on a different outfit too. I don’t even recall why I remember that.  Regardless of anything though,  I didn’t get a word in after I shut my mouth and quit worrying about my ceiling or his head. He just went on with, “Tell me your !&*^% [bleeping] history.”

I winced. I also crossed my arms and wondered what was really going on. One must be careful these days during meditation. He continued, “WHAT IS THE HISTORY OF YOUR !&%*!

This could be a trick question. Did he want to know my personal history or the history of my intimate life with regard to physical contact? He lowered his arms for a moment, and gestured toward me while shaking his head, “no no no — not the sexy stuff, the first of your long history with regard to the word, ‘eff you see kay’. When did you start saying it, and why. Tell me.” He pointed to my meditation chair, meaning I should sit down.  I wasn’t sure I should. What does one do when one is face to face with a God anyway? The last one I’d sat with wasn’t half elephant, and there wasn’t a great deal of weirdness. Besides, I was already sitting when that one showed up.

I gently sat in my chair and cleared my throat, it sounded like a squeak which brought Ganesha’s wee friend front and center. It sat too.
They both blinked at me and waited.

The conversation that followed seemed to last only a short while, although when it was over and my Godly Guest departed; the time check was just about two hours. Evidently, I seem to have created something of a stir in the astral fields with my ability to use a particular word. Ganesha pointed out that when he or others say it: kittens lose their wings and butterflies cry.
When I say it? Those kittens get their wings back and chase giggling butterflies. It’s been determined by the Gods and Goddesses that I have a super power and they cannot duplicate it. It’s mine. Therefore, it has also been put to the council that I could be a trouble maker. That kind of power should be used responsibly and Lord knows (literally) that I tend to be impetuous. Ganesha, as the remover of obstacles and challenge blaster, was elected to get my phucking history.

There’s no need to get into the details of my phucked up childhood. It was heinous. Although Ganesha did want some information; so we discussed some of that at length. We discovered that we had something in common! He claimed his daddy issues (he doesn’t have one) and I claimed my mommy issues (I don’t have one). He also said, he’d put in a good word for me with Athena, I reminded him of her.  Evidently, she has the same mommy issues.

The most revealing element of my phucking history was that it began with a desire to distance myself from the shame that directed my actions as a teenager. Being in a very strict Christian household where all language and thoughts were guided by the fear of a disgruntled God led me to such self-loathing that I created a “phucking” chant when I left home. I had determined that if this God and all his celestial followers were going to condemn me, I’d sing a phucking song on the way down. I’d leave them with an ear virus. A final “farewell, phuckers …”


The Power of Phuck

Ganesha’s mouse wanted me to hum a few notes, so I did. Afterward, it was agreed that this God who was going to disown me and keep me from his perfect followers were phucked. The ditty I’d created was indeed, an ear virus that should only be hummed in great despair at the end of the world. Ganesha told me that he was very sorry that my God was such an evil phucker and offered me a space in his mansion on the other side of the rainbow if I needed a place to stay. I accepted with deep gratitude and suddenly we were all very happy because I didn’t have to sing my phucking song after all, and Ganesha could report that I would only use my super power for good.


The process of consciously transmuting all negative energy to the highest possible power began when I was 18 while learning my oracle of choice: the tarot. I was told by my guides that until I learned how to interpret the symbols as they are “right side up” I wouldn’t be allowed to read oracle reversals. That study went on for over a decade.  Now, I have created my own oracle deck, and one of those symbols is “Phuck”.

In parting, I told Ganesha about my symbol of power and invited him to look at it. He blessed it and told me to continue sharing it with the world. As a result, I present to you all, the right and the authority to say, “Phuck It” in the highest vibration possible. The .pdf is attached here –> 
Use it in good health and wisely. May you be well, and may you be phucking happy.

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