A revolutionary agitator, saboteur, and bank robber in the 60s and 70s, John Sherman was on the FBI's Ten Most Wanted list for two and a half years. Captured in 1981, he served over 18 years in federal penitentiaries. In 1994, in a prison in Colorado, he spent more than a year in the fully open awareness of spiritual awakening, which collapsed suddenly and left him bereft. Three years later, shortly before his release, he found true freedom by means of an extremely simple act of attention.
With inward looking, the context in which experience arises is initially and directly changed by the act itself resulting in a subsequently less defended exposure to the feared environment (life). In turn, many of the neuroses constructed out of the fear-based context begin to fall away because there is no longer any context to support them; on an experiential level, they become irrelevant. Over time, this allows for the possibility of having an increasingly natural relationship with life. (The Radical Act of Inward Looking, by Paul Freedman M.S.W., R.S.W. Jonathan Goldberg M.S.W., R.S.W. Jaak Reichmann M.D., FRCP(C))
I was born in the summer of 1942 in Camden, New Jersey, to a father and mother about whom I know little other than what I have been told by others. When I was three or four, my mother and father split up, and I was sent to be raised by my grandmother, a Holy Ghost Pentecostal Christian, and my grandfather. When I was about ten, my grandfather died and my mother came back to town for his funeral. Soon thereafter, she was remarried to a sweet man, a tool and die maker, and they took me back from my grandmother. Within a year, we moved to Southern California. Over the coming years with him, my new stepfather gave me much attention and provided me with the basis for a philosophical outlook on life.
In 1958, when I was sixteen and in tenth grade, I stole my parents’ checkbook, booked a flight to New York with a bad check, and moved into the Plaza Hotel, where I assembled a wardrobe and other artifacts, went to a play on Broadway (J.B.), drank, ate high, and finally bought a $2,500 Patek Philippe watch in the hotel jewelry store—all paid for with bad checks from my parents checkbook (times were easier then for a child con man). The watch proved a little too much—hotel security entered the fray, made some phone calls to California, and came to get me. In the end, they called my grandmother in New Jersey who wired enough money to bail me out and get me a train ticket to her.To enjoy the full article and have complete access to the magazine, please purchase a subscription. Free areas are Books, Music, Movies and the article Saving Valentina. It is our hope that the content of ONE will inspire your life and awaken your heart! Click here to register for your subscription.