In reporting this story, my partner repeatedly remarked that she feared she was about to join a cult.
In his defense, the ingredients were there. First, there’s me: a neurotic and impulsive, bisexual, 35-year-old Jew who feels lost in a world that no longer makes sense and is looking for something eternal and powerful that can give him support and direction.
Then there’s the person I’m writing about: a learned, intelligent and charismatic mystic who sings a compelling tune over the intertwining of soul and body politic and in so doing has built a “movement” of followers. loosely organized – most of them even younger than me – who praise his idiosyncratic ideas to heaven. And there were days when I really felt like I could give up everything and come back to my subject to embrace all that is numinous and revolutionary in the human experience.
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