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The Sun Magazine

The Sun Interview

Quiet Mind

An Interview With Matt Lippa

Another business opens on Franklin Street, two rooms in a second story walk-up called “The Center of Light.” “We’re all center of light,” reads the sign on the door. “Only recognition is needed.” Inside sits Matt Lippa, calm behind his makeshift desk, playing backgammon and laughing with students, drinking herb tea and listening to Tarheel basketball, guiding meditations, counseling visitors. His job? He’s a spiritual teacher, whose function, as he puts it, is to help people let go of the blocks that keep them from illumination and self-realization. The words may seem abstract but his manner is personal, warm, and usually gentle.

Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

Teaching, And The Mood Of Relativity

Many years ago when I first taught college English. I made a discovery in the first or second week of teaching, namely, that the main obstacle to instruction, to one’s ability to teach someone something they don’t already know, is the mood and spirit of relativity. Here is what happened: I was teaching a short story by Henry James called “The Lesson of the Master” whose main character is a well-known English novelist, ripe in age and reputation, a figure of awe to the young aspiring novelists of his later years. As the story moves along, however, James begins to send out to the reader many hints which would suggest that this man is in fact rather more subtle than wise, excessively vain, and that his reputation has really more to do with considerations other than the literary merits of his books — he is really, it turns out, a best-seller who has cleverly grown old and thus accrued the patina of venerability.

The White Horse: Seth On Animals

“You can learn more from watching the animals than you can from a guru . . .or from reading my book. But first you must divest yourself of the idea that your creaturehood is suspect. Your humanness did not emerge by refusing your animal heritage, but upon an extension of what it is.”

Fiction

Celluloid Children

A black sun crossed the sky. No one noticed. We were on our way to a firing range. It was enjoyable, this caravan into the coastal hills. We were finally doing something. Going someplace. Far better than wasting hours with “silly war” against the MPs or trying to find a place to hide.

Photography

*NOTE: Original copies of this issue are no longer available. Unbound, laser-printed copies will be provided for print orders.

Readers Write

What Is Sex?

If I knew what sex is, I’d be preaching it right now to global audiences. Unfortunately, I don’t.

Personal Stories By Our Readers ▸
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