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Getting Free

Escaping The Prisons Of Our Own Making — An Interview With Bo Lozoff

More than twenty-five years ago, Bo Lozoff paid a visit to his brother-in-law in prison. At the time, Lozoff was living with his wife Sita and their newborn son Josh in a yoga ashram, where residents adhered to strict rules and eschewed worldly comforts. Seeing the life his brother-in-law led, Lozoff realized that, on the face of it, his own existence wasn’t that much “freer”: he and Sita spent all their time doing meditation, yoga, and farm work. The main difference was that their life was liberating, while his was oppressive.

Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

meeting with a god

I . . . ease my hands up under the fish’s belly, where they can’t be seen. Now I’m stroking the Mackinaw’s cold, smooth, human-sized abdomen. It seems to welcome this, seems to relax down into my hands. “My God,” I whisper. “Look at it!”

After The Ecstasy, The Laundry

Bringing Spirituality Back Home

It is one thing to offer a multitude of prayers for the sick and the poor, or to undertake loving kindness and compassion meditations for thousands of sentient beings everywhere. It is another to bring these same practices to bear in our own family and our closest community.

Fiction

Help Me With This

It’s been almost two years since I shot and killed a ten-year-old boy. It was an overcast day in early December, and I was hunting from the deer stand I’d built where my property meets the woods. The boy, David Rosen, was wearing drab colors, and I mistook his flitting movements behind a filigree of winter gray woods for those of a buck I had shot at and missed the day before. The boy knew that I had a deer stand there and that I hunted in those woods. I had even shown him my rifle a few days earlier.

Jonsared

He doesn’t seem crazy. Not at all. There’s no muttering, no matted hair, no tics, no eyes that are keyholes into rooms where the worst things happen.

Readers Write

Cheating

I am a scrupulously honest person — too honest for my own good, I’ve been told. I would like to attribute this to some innate virtue on my part, but I have simply learned that anytime I try to get away with something, I get caught.

Personal Stories By Our Readers ▸
Sy Safransky's Notebook

December 2000

Norma and I walk along the shore, holding hands. The wind whips her beautiful long hair, streaked now with gray. Since we met, eighteen years have slipped away. Time: the punch line to God’s favorite joke, one we never really get, though we smile politely and pretend to understand.

Musings From Our Founder ▸
Quotations

Sunbeams

Master Shaku Soen liked to take an evening stroll through a nearby village. One day he heard loud lamentations from a house and, on entering quietly, realized that the householder had died and the family and neighbors were crying. He sat down and cried with them. An old man noticed him and remarked, rather shaken on seeing the famous master crying with them, “I would have thought that you at least were beyond such things.” “But it is this which puts me beyond it,” replied the master with a sob.

Irmgard Schloegl

More Quotations ▸
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