There is something very special about sitting down to write a letter and spending time, not with an abstract "general public," but with a specific person one cares about, and sharing thoughts and feelings generated by the mood and circumstances of the moment.
Live conversations have innumerable joys, of course — personal presence, audible tones in words and laughter, physical cues through sight and touch. In writing a letter, however, there is a slower pace, greater consideration of what one actually thinks and feels, and very often a depth and intensity of intimacy that live conversations rarely match. There are pleasures in both, of course, and neither is to be denied. But here we are celebrating the joys of letter writing.
In writing a letter, there need be no haste, no sloppy thinking, no lack of precision, no superficiality, no skimming meaninglessly from one subject to another, skirting issues, interrupting or being interrupted, or reducing profound subjects to trivia — and time has a completely different value. Even as words can be selected with ultimate consideration when writing, so they can be savored like fine wine when reading. At its best, letter writing may leap from individual concerns to the universal human condition.
In these letters I would not presume to violate the privacy of those who wrote to me in confidence. Therefore, I do not divulge personal matters, nor do I reveal full names. In most cases I include few if any of their writings, only my own. I trust that by sharing my responses to other people's letters, the reader will understand what the other was talking about.
Throughout this series, I hope I am able to communicate to general readers a few of the feelings, thoughts and insights that seem relevant, not only to me or the recipients, but to many of us, regardless of our unique circumstances. In many ways, the immediate concerns in these letters become relevant to all. That is why I present them here.
Letters I—Osho, subtitled "Songs to Mark"(not his real name), is a beautiful and intense series in which Mark examined the writings of several major authors (Hesse, Watts, others) and found himself especially drawn to Osho. He asked about Osho's books, bought many of them, explored them, and eventually tried to share his enthusiasm with others, including a woman who trashed the late mystic in no uncertain terms. That led to a discussion with Mark about Osho's life and work and a summary of the problems that developed in Oregon. Along the way, we touched upon numerous musicians (Tim Buckley, Fred Neil, Miles Davis, Bill Evans, et. al.), and a host of writers in addition to Osho (Krishnamurti, Ken Wilber, Kerouac, Patti Smith, et. al.). The Osho series is rich with intelligence, compassion and friendship, sprinkled
with insights that many readers may find nourishing and uplifting.
Letters II—Timestreams focuses on the joys of being alive, the fears of growing older, and ways and means of altering our perceptions to enhance each and every moment of the living present. Includes a number of letters to people in their 70s and 80s.
Letters III—Rebels, Time & Change contrasts people like Rimbaud, Artaud, Burroughs, Bob Dylan and Patti Smith with "true outsiders" such as Buddha, Jesus, Krishnamurti and Osho (June 7, '01). It examines the question of art vs. commerce (Feb. 5, '01); explores the question of psychological and spiritual transformation according to Freud and Buddha (Feb. 17, '01); and includes excellent discussions of Miles Davis (Sept. 5, '02), Hesse's
Steppenwolf (April 20, '01), the dynamics of self-destruction (April 4, '02), and the relevance of "the buddhas" to modern times (March 17, 02). Letters III includes some of the most challenging, thought-provoking writings of the series.
Letters IV—Three C's is one letter, originally written to my father, slightly reframed for this site. It is subtitled "Consciousness, Compassion, Celebration," and explores in-depth one of the central problems our modern world faces: high intellectual and technological development coupled with almost non-existent psychological maturation and an almost total lack of spiritual development. We have beaten plowshares into nuclear bombs without awakening higher-consciousness or worldcentric compassion. "Three C's" looks closely at religion, politics, business, technology, science, and psychology, drawing in part from Ken Wilber's brilliant works.
