Chapter Five

Chapter Five

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D.L. Crumpton

D.L. Crumpton

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D.L. Crumpton
Daniel Louis Crumpton is a philosopher, political activist, and researcher of spirituality and comparative religions. He has compiled his research into the novel “Then Came the Flood” (on sale now at, AMAZON.COM, BARNESANDNOBLE.COM , WESTBOWPRESS.COM, BOOKSAMILLION.COM and ZENINTHECAR.COM), which offers an alternate and daring perspective to the events transcribed in the book of Genesis. Daniel was also an editor and frequent contributor to the political/spiritual/news website ZENINTHECAR.COM as well as the producer of ZEN IN THE CAR T.V. which covers topics ranging from political activism to enlightenment.
Daniel does not identify with any particular faith, however describes himself as a Sophian-Helio-Gnostic. He uses his experience and knowledge of the metaphysical as well as the occult to guide others to their individual understanding of enlightenment so they might be free from the bondage of Plato's cave. His message of wisdom, compassion and balance is heard by many who wish to see free and tolerant societies where all are allowed to walk their unique path without fear of condemnation.
D.L. Crumpton

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One of the most beneficial things about eastern philosophy is that for the most part it embraces the feminine aspects of that which we call God. On the whole, Christianity shuns such and understanding of the Divine. Sure, Catholicism allows for a little Mary worship, but it too is bound to the constraints that the ultimate God most certainly has a phallic and behaves in like manner. Very rarely do western faiths delve into the idea that perhaps God is not male, rather a mixture of both male and female. I believe the imagery of the yin yang or caduceus is splendid examples of this mixture of both the masculine and the feminine. Now it is my belief that the Christian Bible does indeed also ascribe female qualities to God, but that fact is brushed over by most of your preachers. Hinduism allowed me to explore this idea further and it didn’t take too long before I became fixated with the personification of the Goddess Kali.

Kali
Kali

 

Krishna was essentially Christ before Christ was born. His origins (or lack thereof) are essentially the same. The only difference in the narrative is that Christ achieved apotheosis or God hood without a feminine counterpart, and to tell you the truth I don’t really believe that. I think it is obvious in the reading of the Gnostic Gospels that the man known as Christ most certainly had a lady or two on His hip, his favorite being the woman we know today as Mary Magdalene. I aint starting a religion so I really don’t care if you buy into that or not but you at least need to acknowledge that Dan Brown didn’t pull that shit from a vacuum. Either way, the Hindus make no bones that their messiah, Krishna, absolutely positively needed a woman’s influence to complete his role in the great scheme of things. For him that was Kali, the Goddess of destruction, power, creation and a whole lot of other stuff. She, being wise and nurturing knew that Krishna would never be able to ascend to God hood without pressure. Much like a diamond or pearl of great price, this messiah would require resistance. Though the accounts differ from one school of thought to another, the lesson is the same. Krishna allows his beloved to destroy him in some way so he might become glorified as Shiva and the two, God and Goddess, spin worlds with their tantric relationship. Regardless of if She forces him to confront his seven vices, or demands worship, or he demands that she appear in her raw and unfettered form there is one thing you cannot deny; that relationship is fucking hot. Who wouldn’t want to wake up one morning and yawn as you remember that you actually became a God or demi-god or what have you, look next to you and see a Goddess or demi-goddess or what have you and say “So what do you want to do today?” only to have her reply “Fuck Universes and planets into existence. You?”

 

The Hindu faith is so true to whom we are on a base level that to further throw in your face that the union of male and female is not a bad thing, they dropped the Kama Sutra on you. They gave zero fucks when developing their faith for what would be appropriate in polite society. As a matter of fact they even went so far as to build temples dedicated to all the different ways one could fornicate with very detailed architecture. I think this revelation too had a tremendous impact on my way of life because quite honestly orthodox Christianity will barge into your bed room and make it as boring and awkward as having sex in front of Jesus Christ. That’s pretty awkward seeing as how He is the Son of God and all. How comfortable would you feel speaking the dirty words to your one and only during coitus when a young Jewish carpenter was in the room with you petting a lamb and listening? That’s what I thought. Let’s cut all the lights off, speak as little as possible and get this done as soon as possible. This is the beautiful thing about Hinduism I believe, it celebrates and elevates the union between male and female and teaches that this natural function of life doesn’t have to be stiff and mechanical but fluid and deeply spiritual. I highly recommend reading The Heart of Tantric Sex by Diana Richardson to further explore this topic; I know her book came as quite a revolution to me in how one views, experiences and goes about the natural process of physical union. As a Gnostic I can say that this powerful act of creation must not be taken lightly or dismissed as merely a byproduct of human living. Since I have studied Tantra I can say that some of the most spiritual moments I have ever had were in the arms of a woman in pursuit of the same thing with patient sensitivity. Two becoming one, yin and yang, Shiva and Kali; this is the very blueprint of the Universe itself for crying out loud and yet religion has reduced it to the equivalent of a sneeze. What bull-shittery has been pulled over our eyes?

 

After you experience Tantra, physical sex can no longer have the same appeal. Sure, the occasional quick romp in a dressing room at a department store or in an elevator is still fun from time to time; but it doesn’t quite deliver the gratification of Tantra. As I always say, seduction begins in the mind and where it should end, rather re-loop is in the spirit. It is neither a process of dominating or being dominated, it is a cosmic dance of equality. It is the vulnerable release of authority to some authority higher than you; it is the expression and essence of the spirit itself. All of us got here by means of physical union, yet for some reason we either reduce it to pornography or stall house jokes. Rarely do we approach it with the reverence it really deserves.

 

Want me to change your oil?
Want me to change your oil?

 

I believe here I might get into a little bit of trouble, but I honestly don’t care. I am a proponent of Freedom and Liberty and couldn’t give two shits about the gay marriage issue. However I do have my beliefs, they are mine, I am entitled to them and you don’t have to like them but you must allow them. While I couldn’t give a crap if two dudes get married, and don’t really judge homosexuals as human beings at all on that basis, it is my belief that the experience of spiritual union in sex I am talking about cannot happen with a gay couple because such a union can create nothing. I am also of the belief that homosexuality when led to its ultimate conclusion means the extinction of the human race; therefore the practice speaks volumes to me. That’s my belief; I don’t impose it on anyone and will certainly not rally against you begging the state for scraps with marriage. I simply believe that at the end of anything worthwhile, something is created besides appendicitis. I think the only exception I would make to this belief is lesbians. That’s all right in my book. Just not the lesbians who wear corduroy and fix cars and shit. That’s just two dudes with a penis deficit.

 

Obviously at this point in my life it was going to be very impractical to begin practicing Tantra with a wife that still had an understanding of sex as defined by the Baptist church. It was going to be really difficult for me to attempt to express these ideas in a marriage that was signed, sealed and delivered in the Christian church and approved by the state of Georgia. Especially when my spiritual quest was already raising questions of my sanity amongst her family. I was going to have to tip toe this bad boy. This proved to be a real challenge for me considering the events that were transpiring in my personal life rather than my spiritual life.

 

It had not been three months after my Father’s passing that I went into the bedroom one night and found waiting for me a stack of papers my ex-wife had prepared. They were divorce papers. All tidy and neat, simply waiting a signature from my pen. She presented me with them and I remember reading through them and feeling each and every word come to me as a razor blade. My dad’s body wasn’t even cold, I hadn’t had time to grieve or deal with my PTSD and addiction and she was already jumping ship. The one word we agreed to never speak was DIVORCE, but she pulled that atom bomb out right at the worst of my ailment. I can’t blame her really; I was rather a mess and can see how she wanted the out. I just had hoped she had more in her back bone than to do it to me at that point in my life. I remember falling to my knees and begging her not to do this to me because I needed her and thankfully, for a time, my pleas put off the inevitable. Because once the word divorce is mentioned, there is no going back.

 

While on my spiritual quest I found a home down the street for my mother and brother and began focusing on my marriage more than I ever had before. The ideas I was receiving about worshipping the feminine Divine were bubbling up in my marriage and I was doing all I could to see the Goddess in her. For a time this worked. For a time it took me to places with her that I had always wanted to go, but in the end, the union I was looking for was not to be so. This was going to eventually end and we were on borrowed time. It would have been nice if it had ended with a handshake, but it didn’t. It ended with blood, pistol whips, butcher knives and a really, really ignorant mother in law having me committed because of my beliefs.

 

A SONG TO PLAY US OUT…

 

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