Do Not Love Me

Summary

The text is a reflective and introspective piece that explores themes of love, spirituality, and the nature of human connection, while challenging traditional religious imagery and advocating for a shift towards feminine spiritual leadership.

Abstract

The author of the text delves into a personal journey of understanding and interpreting their own existence and emotions, likening themselves to a photographic negative both literally and metaphorically. They share an intimate revelation of achieving a deep emotional overlap with others through meditation, suggesting a profound, non-telepathic connection that transcends thought and centers on pure feeling. The narrative touches on the author's experiences with the objectification of women, their complex relationship with the concept of divinity, and their views on the evolution of spiritual leadership, particularly emphasizing the rise of strong, wise, and compassionate feminine hearts. The author also pays homage to their parents' spiritual guidance, highlighting their mother's joyful influence and their father's steadfastness amidst church division over social issues.

Opinions

The author expresses a discomfort with the way men often treat women as objects for their pleasure, as experienced during a visit to a strip club.
There is a clear rejection of the traditional, patriarchal "bearded thunder monster" image of divinity in favor of a more nuanced, feminine spiritual power.
The author believes in the potential for a Venn overlap of hearts in deep meditation, indicating a spiritual connection that is emotionally profound and universal.
Despite some negative experiences with how men view women, the author does not condemn all men, recognizing the complexity of human desires and the need for spiritual growth beyond hate.
Acknowledging the role of their parents in shaping their spiritual outlook,

Just Leave Me Outside

Around me, Ravens follow in a straight line Like well-imprinted ducklings, While hyenas mind their manners, And cute little poodles Drink from a commode.

Around me, Divinity dances fresh With erotic feminine power, No bearded thunder monster, Dozing while a zoo bounces on waves Over a congregation of corpses.

Around me, The sun rises to a chill And sets toward silent hope, Ignoring a bright dawn partridge To focus on the dung beetle Finishing her day’s work.

Around me, The mirrors in your bathroom Magnify pimples and warts, Wrinkles and gray hairs, All parts of your self You know you should love.

The image at the top is a photographic negative. The narrator is a photographic negative.

There I go again, interpreting my poem, against the rules. More follows.

I get obsessed. I have grown obsessed with the certainty that, in deep meditation, my heart achieves a Venn overlap with the real hearts of real people around the globe. Not telepathy, no thoughts, just feelings.

That sounds crazy. Assume it is true. I discovered a world full of women poised to assume spiritual leadership in the near future. I sense strong, wise, compassionate feminine hearts out there. And yes, there is an erotic vitality and zest for life among them. Am I right?

A friend dragged me to a strip joint when I was a very young man. It horrified me. Men treated women as things meant for nothing beyond their pleasure. For decades I avoided bachelor parties.

Please don’t view me as an anti-man man. I came to Christ through Jesus, and continue to recognize a male aspect to the Almighty. Not so fond of Old Testament imagery. Time to evolve.

Please don’t view me as hating all guys who ogle at nude pictures of women. Hating most men would not do much for my spirituality. One of my favorite former co-workers told me he wanted to be reincarnated as a lesbian porn star. Not so sure he was kidding.

I even have a little fun with it. Here is a joke that gave my wife a big laugh. I sent one of my friends a link to a poem. He responded, “I don’t do poems.” So I told him he would like the nude photo in it.

He clicked. Gotcha!

Finally, let me say how much I admire my father and my mother for their spiritual leadership. My father, an ordained pastor, struggled for years against the splintering of the United Presbyterian Church. Congregations left in protest of gay marriage and other social issues. My mother threw well-attended prayer meetings full of joyful singing, bible study and speaking in tongues. She is gone now, the happiest angel in heaven.

Her name was Jocelyn. Everybody called her JOY!!!

I would like to acknowledge the following people with whom I had conversations that helped me prepare for this story: