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?
Buddhadharma : Winter 2010
61 winter 2 01 0 buddhadharma: the practitioner’s quarterly The first time I felt any relief from the sorrow that enshrouded me after three members of my family were murdered was six months later when I was meditating with Dai-En Bennage in the End- less Mountains. Connie, my daughters’ favorite aunt, and her teenage sons, Allen and Bobby, were bludgeoned and stabbed to death in their home by the boy across the street in an upscale Pennsyl- vania neighborhood in October 1990. The killer also raped Connie. After the shock waves that started with the phone call that brought the terrible news, the first feeling I can remember was one of culpability. What did I or my family do to bring this upon us? The guilt was subtle, but it lay there, in the dark pool of my grief. IllustratIon by kim scafuro How can there be laughter, How can there be pleasure, When the whole world Is burning? When you Are in deep darkness, Will you not ask for a lamp? —The Dhammapada