I Started a Cult
Every Wednesday at 7 p.m. in West Haven, CT, my cult (Ryan’s Love Cult) meets in a bar formerly owned by the mafia. And, yes, there’s a bartender available. (Check out this beautiful street view. The dumpster sells it!)
Our meeting is straightforward: teaching, guided meditation, and energy healing (if I feel like it). Or we could sit around, drink, and talk about the path to enlightenment. We may do sound healing, drumming circles, or take field trips to watch baseball. Go, Yard Goats!
Am I serious? Yes!
Am I qualified? Maybe!
But first, let me answer a few questions:
Why did I start the cult?
To begin, I used to be a pastor in a cult. I attended a seminary called New Testament Christian College in Graham, WA. While they taught me a lot about the Bible and how to grow a church, they also had cult-like tendencies, such as:
- Performing marriages of 16-year-old girls to older men
- Taking tithe in only cash
- Requiring you to call the front office for permission to hang out with your friends
- No movies, TV, or radio
- Outside friends and family? Ha! That’s not happening
