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Spirituality is not a course in literature.

Stewart Brinton

March 1995

Epic Unwinding

An Episode Of The Mahabharata

Translated By Rose Rosberg December 1991
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories


I was about to run out of meter time when an elderly gentleman approached, moving about as fast as a snail with a broken leg. He carried two large bags full of food and sundry housekeeping paraphernalia. Red-faced and puffing. I offered him a hand.

By David Koteen July 1985


There are never enough “I-love-yous.”

Lenny Bruce

March 1985
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

Miracle Of Love

A Collection Of Stories About Neem Karoli Baba

At this point Maharaj-ji said, “Oh, I didn’t realize you were so attached to money.” And with that he took a set of tongs, reached into the fire, and began pulling new, unburned rupee notes from the fire until he had returned all the rupees to the sadhu. After that, the sadhu did not sit on Maharaj-ji’s tucket anymore — but at his feet.

By Ram Dass February 1984
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

All Men Are Brothers

Selections From The Writings Of Gandhi

I do not want to be reborn. But if I have to be reborn, I should be born an untouchable, so that I may share their sorrows, sufferings, and affronts levelled at them, in order that I may endeavour to free myself and them from that miserable condition.

By Mohandas K. Gandhi May 1983
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

Call Them By Their Names With Passion

“Name and form” the rishis call it. “Function and form,” biologists reply. Parallels accumulate. Coincidence perhaps, but I am forced to wonder. How much power is in a word, and can I make it mine?

By Patricia Bralley January 1982
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories


Every thought, word, and deed in our lives is a seed which we plant in the world. All our lives, we harvest the fruits of those seeds. If the seeds are full of anger, fear, greed, desire, and doubt, then so will our lives be. If the seeds contain love, kindness and understanding, then our lives will as well.

By Bo Lozoff December 1981
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

Death On The Wind

Letters From A Prisoner

I’m presently in the Idaho State prison for first degree murder, two counts. I was arrested in November of 1974, taken to trial, found guilty and sentenced to death, March of 1976. In October of 1977, the Idaho Supreme Court vacated my death penalty, but I’m under review to receive a newly enacted death penalty in May of this year. At that time the courts will decide if I can be given the new death penalty or a double life sentence. These two charges in Idaho aren’t the only ones I have. There are seven more in other states. Please let me explain why I did these cold-blooded, without any mercy, killings. In April of 1974, 11 men entered my home in Portland, Oregon, raped my 17 year old wife, who was three months pregnant at the time, then threw her four stories out our apartment window.

By Bo Lozoff December 1981
The Sun Interview

We’re All Doing Time

An Interview With Bo And Sita Lozoff

People ask me about getting gang-raped and whether they should defend themselves or submit. I can’t say to somebody, “Submit and don’t worry about it,” and I also can’t say, “Defend yourself and die.” That’s his choice to make. Mahatma Gandhi could and would have submitted because he was so non-attached to his body there was no degradation there, there was no undignity. And yet on the other hand, Chief Joseph of the Nez Perce wouldn’t have submitted, he would have said, “Ah, this is a wonderful day to die.”

By Howard Rubin December 1981