The Philadelphia experiment – part 3 (The explosive conclusion)

So. My vow to ‘get on with it already’, (that whole Earthly role and purpose thing) newly made, I left Philadelphia and headed for home.

And within 36 hours was contacted by the first of those Guys on Twitter (see ‘The Grudge’ for more about Guys on Twitter). Perhaps ‘contacted’ is not really the word for it. He reached out through the Twitterverse, grabbed my full attention and became an unregulated, unfiltered spiritual conduit, pouring massive quantities of direct Heavenly communication my way.

It was beautiful beyond description.

Naturally he had no idea he was doing it; the supplier of that kind of spiritual linkup is usually the last to know. The whole thing went on for over 2 weeks; it was way too much of a good thing, unfortunately – something like being hit continuously with a Heavenly firehose.

I spent hours each day in anguished prayer, just to keep from drowning in it.

If I sound like I’m complaining…well I guess I sort of am. Although it was glorious in concept and sometimes wonderful in actual fact, the overall event was really, really painful.

(The Divine communication itself was perfect, pure, gentle and completely loving. How could it have been anything else? But I wasn’t able to absorb such overwhelming nonstop light, so I experienced the gap between my own human frailty and that limitless Heavenly perfection as intense emotional pain. I know. Bummer.)

After at least 10 days of letting me flail around in complete WTF confusion (and more than a little humiliation over this peculiar, one-sided ecstatic experience that I was/was not sharing with a total stranger), Twitter Guy finally admitted that this sort of thing happens with him all the time.

He is, in his own words, a ‘catalyst for other peoples’ explosive awakenings.’

The operative word here being ‘explosive.’

What was this explosive awakening like, you ask? Like somebody dropped a brick building on me.

And everything that was fragile got smashed.

After it was finally over I spent another month or so sorting through the rubble. Then one day I suddenly realized:

Hey, I’m not scared anymore. I don’t mind if people find out about me. And I don’t care about hiding in shadows, either.

I think I might even be ready for that Earthly role and purpose thing.

So I changed my Twitter username from @carrietriffet to @unlikelymesngr the same day, as a first step out of that spiritual closet.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

(The moral of the story, of course, my darlings, is this: Be careful what you ask for. You’ll very likely get it.)