A Perspective Dance with Profanity

Fuck. It doesn't mean anything. Yet, it can mean everything.

(Saw this man in this t-shirt tonight at sunset. July 16, 2024, Canggu, Bali, Indonesia. Same day I wrote the article. mhmm!)

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I’ve been giving a lot of thought to the fact that my parents don’t love when I use profanity, especially on the internet. …As if I didn’t learn it from the two of them. New Yorkers. What are we gonna do with ‘em?

Here’s the thing, I use profanity with conscious intention, passion, and in small doses.

It doesn’t come out irrationally (thankfully). It’s with emphasis, dramatization — I get that it’s not the cutest behavior, but I am overall pretty cute so I feel like there’s gotta be some balance here. (Self-awareness is a key element of our Self Friendship practice.)

For example, in my latest @PlanitButter Instagram Reel , towards the end of the video I say, “don’t fucking complain — (pause) — about a luxury.” To me, the term ‘fucking’ is a strong sound that theoretically gets the listener’s attention, more so than only saying, “don’t complain…about a luxury” you see? It hits differently. It’s perceived differently. Granted, everything is perpetually perceived differently depending on who’s receiving and their entire life experience leading up to that one tiny moment of interpretation. Interpretation is in the Mind of the Listener.

When I say these two variations out loud, “don’t fucking complain about a luxury” vs “don’t complain about a luxury”, to me, the one that uses the term ‘fucking’ feels more like a powerful yet aloof statement, whereas the one that does not include the term ‘fucking’ feels like it’s telling people what to do. I’m not entirely sure why I feel this way but I do. And that’s actually the entire point…