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 : September 2006
SHAMBHALA SUN SEPTEMBER 2006 39 ways, but at some point we lost track of our meditation cushions. We got caught up in a social world the likes of which we’d never seen. Surrounded by a dozen newfound friends, gay and straight, all of whom turned out to be gourmet cooks, gracious entertainers, and serious drink- ers, we went along for the ride. I was as- tonished to see Shannon, whom I’d always known as a rather reserved person, meta- morphoze into a life-of-the-party-girl whose quips would be quoted for weeks. We didn’t sit much, but we didn’t seem to miss it. Everything was fresh and new, and we were having a great time. Then came Hurricane Katrina. Among many other things, the storm blew away the last vestiges of our meditation practice. After a five-week evacuation, we returned to find that the city looked as if the hurri- cane had blown through only the day be- fore. In the stultifying heat, New Orleans had become a post-Apocalyptic nightmare that went on for block after block, mile af- ter mile of blacked-out streets, moldering houses, toppled trees, dead animals, dead cars, looted businesses with doors still ajar, boats abandoned on the side of the road. The people trickling back into the city seemed as if they’d aged five years in as many weeks. We gathered with our returning neigh- bors and ate communally every night, swapping MRE’s and evacuation stories, for leaving town. Nothing but kindness and warmth, as always. He understood, he loved us, and he let us go. The day before Ed died, in November, 2004, he told a friend, “I’m ready to get the hell out of here.” His death, by all accounts, was remarkably sweet and peaceful, with him clear-eyed and loving, comforting others until the end. Before leaving behind Karen, two daughters, three stepdaugh- ters, grandchildren, and a community of friends and followers, he wrote, “Just like everyone else, I have (had) problems. But nothing destroys the underlying joy.” Although there were many ingredients to Ed’s remarkable life—starting young as a top scientist for NASA, meeting his own Buddhist teacher, becoming a psychother- apist to help others more intimately and directly—I believe I’ve figured out one secret to his joy: he practiced bodhichitta, the awakened heart of unconditional love. He seemed to love everyone who came into his presence without fear, judgment, or grasping. It feels so good to love, he seemed to say, why hold back? ONE OF ED’S TRAITS that Shannon and I do not share is nonattachment. He was our one and only teacher for this lifetime, we agreed, and now we had been cast into the wilderness. It was time to find our own way. After one year, we weren’t doing too hot. We loved New Orleans for its bohemian, disintegrating, unpredictable Edward Wortz PHOTOBYERIKHANSEN ➢ page 106 uPAYAzencenter zen SKILLFUL MEANS ENGAGED BUDDHISM Santa Fe, New Mexico www.upaya.org 505.986.8518 WILD MIND