Lee Lozowick published my books, sent me to France, took me to Spain and India, introduced me to Claudio Naranjo and Alexandro Jodorowsky, and wrote and sang some of my favorite music. Lee could consistently do things that I could not do, such as keep his In-Box immaculately empty.

It was an honor and a privilege to apprentice to the alchemist-magician Lee Lozowick 1989-2010.

My book: No Reason: 21 years with Western Baul Master Lee Lozowick, is being released by Thoughtware Press in 2022.

Some of Lee's students recently built several website with basic info about the little known Western Baul Tradition as it emerged in Lee's capable and loving hands:

http://westernbaul.org

https://hohmsahajmandir.org

And their publishing company is:

http://hohmpress.com

I had the good fortunate to be in Yogi Ramsuratkumar's radiant presence twice, both times in Lee's company and by Lee's invitation. The first time was with a group of 10 men on a 30 day pilgrimage in Southern India, November/December 1990. The second time was a couple months before Yogi Ramsuratkumar passed in February 2001.

Almost every summer from 1995 until 2010 Lee invited me to accompany him on a visit to Hauteville, the French Ashram of this lovely, committed, intelligent, fiercely-sensitive man named Arnaud Desjardins, where Lee would deliver a week of Q&A sessions. Arnaud's dignity and nobility remains with me as an example to this day. It is no wonder that Arnaud was one of Lee's closest friends. Arnaud died in August 2011 not long after Lee died in November 2010.

I want to tell you a story about who Arnaud was for me. The last time I saw Lee in person was at the 2010 seminar at Hauteville. Arnaud's students traditionally celebrated the final day of the seminar with a goodbye feast in the courtyard. That is also the morning all remaining artifacts from Lee's Sacred Bazaar needed to be packed back into the vans. With two other students I moved as efficiently as I could all morning to get boxes to fit, but it took longer than usual. I swept up the floor just as the celebratory brunch ended. As was customary, Lee headed straight for his van to lead the caravan of cars back to La Ferme de Jutreau. Arnaud's students circled Lee to give him their 'farewell' hug. I rushed to the circle just as Lee was getting into his van. Lee saw me but it would have been undignified for him to stop his momentum, plus I was so grimy and sweaty. I waved from a distance as Lee drove off, then turned to hide the tears in my eyes, literally landing in Arnaud's open arms. Arnaud squeezed me tightly against his white shirt, suit coat, and broad chest, paying no attention to my dust and sweat. He saw the whole situation and did not hesitate an instant to be completely with me. This was Arnaud Desjardins.

It is amazing how you might grow up not wanting to be anything like your mom or your dad and you end up being unavoidably somehow like both of them...

My father Clinton Jr. brought his wife Virginia Carol Stipek (whom he called 'Jinny') and his 3 sons westward, from the outskirts of Allentown, Pennsylvania to the outskirts of Los Angeles, California in a green Ford station-wagon with his aerodynamic hand-made cartop-sleeping-chamber we called 'The Thing' in 1957.

I was five.

Before others woke up one morning I went outside the Motel to play with my little stuffed Doggy. He and I discovered a hole in the cement and he wanted to go into it. Then my dad came out and said, "Time for breakfast!"

Forty-five minutes down the road from the Motel I remembered that my favorite stuffed animal friend was stuffed down a hole in the cement... Daddy would not turn the car around... Doggy is probably still down the hole.

Dad was a trouble-shooting mechanical engineer for McDonald Douglas aircraft company and related jobs most of his life. Mom was a... mom, and an amazing cook. She later became a librarian, a Job Corps teacher, and a Red Cross First Aid trainer.

In the first company I started, Computer Effects Company, I was an electro-mechanical engineer - just like my dad. Then I became a personal transformation trainer - just like my mom.

Go figure.

Virginia died in 2010. Clinton Jr. died in 2011.

Conversations with my brother Lee challenge the mind. Is he joking? Or does he know what he is talking about and is just being patient with me by staying humorous?

For sure he is an edgeworker, disregarding all popular social values and living by self-established semi-Rastafarian conditions.

Lee is a fabulous cook and gardner, growing an orchard of olives in the Joshua Tree desert of Southern California.

In this photo you see his two genius daughters.

At Rolling Hills High School on the Palos Verdes Peninsula - a 'white' coastal suburb of Los Angeles, California - I stayed mostly invisible from 1967 to 1970. John McGeehee, my Physics teacher, reached out and invited me to do extra-credit experiments in the Physics Lab alone after hours and to show him my results. In this way I proved experimentally that gravitational mass and inertial mass are equivalent! Most people never discover this amazing thing about the design of this universe...

John's supportiveness influenced my choice upon High School graduation to complete a BS Degree in Physics at Cal Poly, San Luis Obispo.

Other influential High School teachers include Mr. Medved (marine biology), and Mr. Van Waay (electronics).

At Malaga Cover Junior High School, I somehow knew that Mrs. Champion the math teacher, loved me. In those tough years this was a blessing.

And for some reason I can still remember the name of my first grade teacher Ms. Pinoniemi at Silver Spur Elementary School. This must mean something.

Influential school friends include Donny Worbeck, Mike Rafferty, David Teeter, Ross Van Orden, Jeremy Mucha, Johnny Rapillo, Danny Apoian, Bruce Shimizu, Doug Meyers, David Sweet, Luis Vandenberg, and my 'arch-enemy' Jimmy Baumann.

In 1970, graduated from High School, escaped from my parents' bubble, and enrolled at California Polytechnic State University in San Luis Obispo, California, I scanned the announcement boards like a hungry man drools over a restaurant menu. What attracted me first was Transcendental Meditation.

For a couple of weeks I ate scavenged Saltine crackers topped with ketchup packets and a paste made of crushed walnuts that I collected from under trees around town. In this way I could use my food money to pay the $35 fee for my mantra initiation. I did TM of TM in AM and PM (Twenty Minutes of Transcendental Meditation in the morning (AM) and evening (PM) until I switched to the meditation style of the Paramahansa Yogananda school.

Dr. Hafemeister, tenured Cal Poly Physics Professor is competent, relational, kind, nonlinear, and famous for making outlandishly accurate back-of-the-envelope calculations that impressed both me and the US government.

Many people have heard the quote, "A jack-of-all-trades is master of none."

What these people overlook is that a jack-of-all-trades is master of the Jack-Of-All-Trades Trade, and this profession is particularly suited to serving as a transformational edgeworker building bridges to next culture.

David Hafemeister values his own cross-disciplinary seat-of-the-pants off-the-cuff practical extemporaneous estimations enough to make useful real-world calculations. Somehow during classes and between-class conversations, David's trust of himself transferred over to me.

If no one has explored a territory before, this does not mean it cannot be explored. It means new skills need be applied, such as gameworld-building, setting context, distinguishing, declaring, giving things a name, being centered, being unhookable, improvising, holding space, and navigating space.

Other influential University professors include Grant Delbert Venerable (chemistry), and Jay Featherstone (mathematics).

In 1973 I moved out of the dormitories and off campus to live in my first self-made household with Jeremy Mucha, Jeffrey L. Baldwin, and Jerry Vosti. We called ourselves: Freeholders of the Flying Mantra from Starbows End.

At first we all ate together and whoever cooked the meal made the eating rules. This is when I learned to eat with chopsticks... while eating spaghetti... and feeding the person next to me while they fed me. (It was not a time to wear your best clothes.)

We built bunkbeds and all slept in the same room with a custom-made silent alarm system that would turn on a lightbulb in each person's face at a specified time face to wake them up and no one else. It was an astonishingly successful experiment, that is, until we started meeting women...

In 1973 the Feeholders attended a talk given on campus by Harvey Jackins, the originator of Co-Counseling, also called Re-Evaluation Counseling. By the end of the talk the Freeholders were hugging each other and everyone around us trying to get our minimum 6 hugs per day.

I remain a 'hugger' still now.

Lee Lozowick once passed on a comment that he received from his friend Arnaud Desjardins, who had possibly received it from his teacher Swami Prajnanpad. The comment was that while doing transformational work, "You need to actually touch people." This is one reason why, over the years, we have developed many powerful healing and transformation processes in Possibility Management in which physical contact is an integral component.

Also around 1973, Buckminster Fuller came to give a talk at Cal Poly. There must have been over 400 people in the auditorium as he hobbled across the stage to the podium using two crutches and wearing his signature bottle-bottom eye-glasses. Then he started talking. The presentation was advertised as an hour-long event. I found myself using every gram of my attention to stay present and focused so as to understand what Mr. Fuller was explaining. Before the hour was over people were leaving. I kept moving forward. It is not that every word he said made sense to me. It was that he was so committed to what he was trying to communicate to us that I had to listen. The hour came and went. Bucky never even slowed down. More and more people left the auditorium. I stayed to the end, three hours altogether, the only person still in the auditorium. When Bucky left the stage I couldn't even clap. I felt like a bug squashed flat against a windshield. (Some people might not even know what I am referring to with this metaphor. That's exactly what Bucky was afraid of. Before Monsanto sold RoundUp to farmers, there used to be so many bugs flying around the country you had to wash the windshield of your car every time you refilled your gas tank! Ask yourself what happened to them...) I recommend you read Bucky's books Grunch of Giants, and Critical Path.

I think R. Buckminster Fuller was wrong about one thing... when he told people we live on 'spaceship Earth'. We do not live on the Earth. We ARE the Earth! We are Gaia.

Bucky also said, "You never change things by fighting the existing reality. To change something, build a new model that makes the existing model obsolete.” This strategy shift took me out of politics and into gameworld building. Now I express the idea like this: "You never change things by fighting the existing gameworlds. You change things by building new gameworlds that make the existing gameworlds irrelevant."

The Cal Poly bulletin board revealed another doorway in 1974 when I discovered Silva Mind. Their advertisement promised a two-weekend workshop that would teach me to be psychic or my money back.

It was an offer I could not refuse.

I am so glad I had the courage to try this. John Magera was my trainer. I did not ask for my money back.

It worked perfectly.

What is 'funny' about this, is that at the same time, on the East Coast of America, in Orange, New Jersey, Lee Lozowick was a trainer for José Silva, teaching the Silva method in the same seminar that changed my life.

A few years later in Los Angeles, I got to participate in one-day seminar with José Silva along with my parents. What I remember most was overhearing a 12 year old girl explain to someone that she could bend spoons with her mind. My parents and I went to Denny's Diner for lunch where I stole one of their heavy-duty stainless-steel teaspoons. Back at the seminar I find the girl, hand her the spoon and say, "Please show me how you can bend this with your mind." She sits down quietly on carpeted stairs, focuses on the spoon while stroking it with one finger. In about ten minutes she hands it back to me, bent ninety-degrees on a tiny radius. I still have that spoon today.

Robert S. De Ropp's books below established the clarity in me that our various interactions with each other through organizations, institutions, governments, laws, communities and teams are actually all games.

In other words, here was the basis for my distinctions about gameworlds!

• The Master Game: Beyond the Drug Experience (1968)
• Church of the Earth: The Ecology of a Creative Community (1974)
• Eco-Tech: The Whole-Earther's Guide to the Alternate Society (1975)
• Warrior's Way: A Twentieth Century Odyssey (1992)
• Self-Completion: Keys to the Meaningful Life (1988)

I lost count of how many Robert Heinlein stories I've loved. Here are some favorites:

Glory Road

The Number Of The Beast

Methuselah's Children

Time Enough For Love

The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress

Stranger In A Strange Land

The Door Into Summer

Double Star

Waldo & Magic Incorporated

The Star Beast

Tunnel In The Sky

and, of course, Farnham's Freehold

Living alone in San Diego, California, 1977 I learned that a comic and fantasy conference was to take place there. The fine print announces that if I pay for a meal I can apply to sit at a table with any of the invited speakers. To my surprise Robert and Virginia Heinlein are slated guests and I leap at the opportunity!

I arrive early to the lunch table. Robert is already seated, directly across from Virginia at the center of the table. Without hesitation I sit down in the empty chair directly to Robert's left. He looks at me and says, "That chair is reserved for some pretty woman." (Whoever she might have been, she never showed up and missed an amazing opportunity to have lunch next to Lazarus Long / Jubal Harshaw.) I slide over one chair to the left, then say, "May I ask you some questions?" I have a ton of them. Without hesitation Robert says, "Yes, you may. I will either tell you the truth, lie, or refuse to answer." Both he and I grin. Most of my questions he responds to with, "I refuse to answer..."

Ah, well. The pain of a Memetic Engineer is his endless supply of Dangerous Questions... The one question Robert does answer is, "Of all of the books you have ever written, which is your favorite?" I remember him looking me straight in the eyes and saying, "The one I am writing now!"

Funny, isn't it? The same is true for me.

Neil Postman demonstrated how to take radical responsibility for bullshit. He could directly face all varieties of bullshit without flinching from its insanity because he was born and raised in New York City. When later I was delivering The Event training, New York City was only place I did not have to train people how to say, "NO!" Jewels from Neil's many precious books that helped a California boy grow up include:

"One man’s bullshit is another man’s catechism."

"Far and away, the greatest source of bullshit with which you must contend is yourself."

"Almost nothing is about what you think it is about – including you."

"The advantage that comes from our knowledge of the inevitability of our own death is that we know that whatever is happening right now is going to go away. Most of us try to put this thought out of our minds, but I am saying that it ought to be kept firmly there, so that you can fully appreciate how ridiculous most of your enthusiasms and depressions are."

"So you see, when it comes right down to it, crap-detection is something one does when you start to become a certain type of person." [Yes, when you start to become a 'Conscious Asshole'.]

My favorite Neil Postman books are two that he wrote with Charles Weingartner: Teaching as a Subversive Activity, and The Soft Revolution.

A magnificently intelligent speech from Neil Postman's many contributions is online here: http://media.usm.maine.edu/~lenny/Bullshit/crap_detection.pdf

These are the courageous participants of the 1975 Thursday Night Meeting Group who wanted more and wanted it longer. We ended up borrowing a piece of land on the coast of Baja California between San José del Cabo, and Cabo San Lucas in the Fall of 1975.

All summer long I cut and dried fruit and veggies that we scavenged from the garbage bins behind supermarkets in San Luis Obispo. We collected used 20 Liter plastic pickle buckets from the hamburger place and each of us received one to stuff our entire personal belongings into.

We packed up Alan's classic Chevy Nova and Ed's red Toyota half-ton pickup and drove South over 2000 Kilometers. Lacking an accurate map for the land, we suspect that we never found the right place, but that did not matter. It was totally the 'right' place.

Directly on the beach, a kilometer or so from the closest area we could park the car, and nothing was there.

We carried hand-blown 5-gallon glass bottles on our shoulder for a kilometer to Rancho Campo. It was our only source of fresh water. We learned to bathe, brush teeth, cook, and wash clothes and dishes in salt water.

The rancher family, Fernando and Adelfa with their two young children, Fernandito and Elvira Cruz, were our closest neighbors and friends. We co-created so many memorable times together.

Rancho Campo was an experiment in synergetic education and temporary community. It worked miraculously well. I wrote an unpublished book about it called Seeds. This 1975 experiment proved to me that nanonations are possible.

In September 1981 I was running around Honolulu in a panic, having just a few hours to pack before departing for the South Pacific as crew with my wife Brenda and two other couples on the pink-and-purple hand-crafted 45-foot trimaran christened Moon Dog. The panic was that I did not have a book to read! I found myself at a J. J. Newberry's five-and-dime frantically digging through a pile of pulp-fiction on the discount booktable when my hands miraculously pulled out a hardback copy of In Search of the Miraculous by P. D. Ouspensky. What was that doing there? I bought the book and read it the entire month we were sailing, having no idea how my life was about to change. While I was cherishing the last few pages in Sydney, Australia, our roommates's boyfriend sauntered past and said, "You like that book?" "Yes!" I exclaimed fervently. "Then, you need to call Ron Bosanquet. Here is his number."  ???! So I called Ron Bosanquet, who quietly asked me a couple of questions and then said, "You can meet me at the café."  ???!! So I met him at the café. After a couple of minutes he said, "You can come. Thursday nights at seven. Here is the address." ???!!! So I went there Thursday nights and that is when I first encountered a living school. My life path forked immediately and I changed tracks. Ronald Eric Giffard Bosanquet eventually created Leonis School. He died in Australia, 30 May 2017.