using the arrow buttons.
by clicking on the page.
the page around when zoomed in by dragging it.
the zoom using the slider when zoomed-in.
by clicking on the zoomed-in page.
by entering text in the search field, and select "This Issue" or "All Issues"
by clicking on thumbnails to select pages, and then press the print button.
displays sections with thumbnails and descriptions.
displays a slider of thumbnails. Click on a page to jump.
allows you to browse the full archive.
about your subscription?
Lions Roar : March 2014
I WAS THIRTY-SIX YEARS OLD when I encountered truth for the first time. Depressed and sleepless, up too late wandering around the house where I lived alone, keeping company with too much wine and sorrow, I spied a slender red spine on my bookshelf. I must have walked past it a hundred times but had never noticed it before. The book was Stephen Mitchell’s translation of the Tao Te Ching, left behind by someone who had since disappeared. Although I had no interest in philosophy or religion and couldn’t even pronounce the title on the dust jacket, I sat down in the hush of that long, unforgettable night and read every word. PHOTOBYWONDERLANE Afterward I would recall the event as a spiritual awakening. With hindsight it’s easy to see your irreversible turning points— how the casual flick of your finger topples a domino that reveals a perfect pattern to the chaos—but that night I didn’t think I’d found any particular answers. I didn’t yet see a path beyond my pain. I was still sad, confused, and afraid. But I’d heard something. As I read those pages, I heard what sounded like the truth, so true I would have given it a capital T. It was the truest thing I’d ever read, and if someone could put this much truth into words, I thought, then maybe I could find it in my life. Maybe I could find relief from my mind’s torment. Up until then, I’d been as susceptible as anyone to lies: I’d bought and sold my share of them. I’d had a short career as a journalist, where my professional weakness was believing well- told lies, an unfortunate few of which I rendered as fact under my byline on the front page of the morning paper. I followed that embarrassment with a long career in public relations, where my professional strength was telling lies. To be sure, mine were Does Buddha Always Tell the Truth? Sam Harris thinks honesty is the best policy. KAREN MAEZEN MILLER argues for a more nuanced understanding of right speech. LYING By Sam Harris Four Elephants Press, 2013; 108 pp., $16.99 (hardcover) Reviews KAREN MAEZEN MILLER is a Zen priest and teacher at the Hazy Moon Zen Center in Los Angeles. Her new book, Paradise in Plain Sight: Lessons from a Zen Garden, will be released in May. SHAMBHALA SUN MARCH 2014 71