December 1978

Readers Write


(Part One)

It is incredible as I look back on it how much the energies of my youth were taken up with football. From the time I was twelve until I was seventeen, I played that game in the fall, went out for sports in other seasons that would help me prepare for it, trained with weights, did roadwork and sprints during the summer; most of all, throughout the year, I thought about it, spent hours staring into space envisioning exploits in various games.

By Our Readers
Sy Safransky's Notebook

December 1978


There’s something to be said against encouraging hopefulness. Henry Miller said it: “I do not want to give hope to others, nor to inspire others. If we knew what it meant to be inspired, we would not inspire. We would simply be.”

By Sy Safransky


Sport is where an entire life can be compressed into a few hours, where the emotions of a lifetime can be felt on an acre or two of ground, where a person can suffer and die and rise again on six miles of trails through a New York City park. Sport is a theater where sinner can turn saint and a common man become an uncommon hero, where the past and future can fuse with the present. Sport is singularly able to give us peak experiences where we feel completely one with the world and transcend all conflicts as we finally become our own potential.

George A. Sheehan

Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories

Chapel Hill Page: Healing Festival

It is very easy for us to develop an “open” attitude only toward those ideas which the “New Age” is bringing to the fore. The danger lies in self-righteous deification of alternative methods at the expense of modern approaches to health care.

By Jeffery Beame
Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories

Goodbye, Farmers

Foreign agricultural trade statistics for fiscal year 1977, just released by the U.S. Department of Agriculture, reveal some startling and potentially dangerous developments for America’s embattled family farmers. Production of food for our own dinner plates is being transferred rapidly to foreign lands.

By Cary Fowler
Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories

Pity: A Lesson In Self-Discovery

It’s not raining and that makes it worse. Or better, you tell yourself, it is better that the begonias die. But the begonias don’t die. Right now while our good God peeks through the clouds Mrs. Ferguson is mumbling a bit of a prayer and tilting the waterbucket, gently. Those are pretty little drops that glaze the leaves and tumble, given to the earth.

By Frank Graziano
Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories

Color Healing

Experience is worth a thousand words about color. When I do color therapy with people, the person becomes the screen. The color is moving onto and through them. You look into the beam as it comes from the projector, just long enough to get into your consciousness what it is.

By Eilene Bisgrove
Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories

Angel At The Gate

For myself, I remember no early trauma, sudden realization, concerning death. I was not even much shaken by the death of a grandfather early in my childhood. I can remember no moment when I did not grasp intellectually the concept of death. But in the year I was sixteen, on the first day of that new year, my father died, and since that time I have longed hopelessly for a paradise that will never return.

By David M. Guy

The Horseman Of Marrakech

“What I know is that he chose to be a horse,” he said evenly. “The change chose him, but he chose to be a horse. I swear to you by the black stone of Abraham, Monsieur Blanc, that when he made the decision to become a horse he totally and absolutely was horse from that day on.”

By Richard Heckler

Vision In Black

At 5:00 a timid tap sounded on my door. I must have answered but then slept for I woke late, my eyes focusing on the dark crucifix on the opposite wall. Moments later I fought my way out of the sheets — remembering with new horror that this was the day.

By Misty Hasman

Mirror Of Mind

“Take a look inside yourself and see that there really is no self, unless you create this idea conceptually. Mind is infinite, boundless, and without form. Concepts are form. You can never figure out Mind through concepts because this is trying to limit the limitless. . . . Beyond concepts and judging lies the infinite freedom and the boundless space of Mind, the All Mind, the One Mind. And when you realize what this means, you are free to be Free.”

By Russell McDougal