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Fueled by the music of revolution, anger, fear, and despair, we dyed our hair or shaved our heads ... Eating acid like it was candy and chasing speed with cheap vodka, smoking truckloads of weed, all in a vain attempt to get numb and stay numb.
This is the story of a young man and a generation of angry youths who rebelled against their parents and the unfulfilled promise of the sixties. As with many self-destructive kids, Noah Levine's search for meaning led him first to punk rock, drugs, drinking, and dissatisfaction. But the search didn't end there. Having clearly seen the uselessness of drugs and violence, Noah looked for positive ways to channel his rebellion against what he saw as the lies of society. Fueled by his anger at so much injustice and suffering, Levine now uses that energy and the practice of Buddhism to awaken his natural wisdom and compassion.
While Levine comes to embrace the same spiritual tradition as his father, bestselling author Stephen Levine, he finds his most authentic expression in connecting the seemingly opposed worlds of punk and Buddhism. As Noah Levine delved deeper into Buddhism, he chose not to reject the punk scene, instead integrating the two worlds as a catalyst for transformation. Ultimately, this is an inspiring story about maturing, and how a hostile and lost generation is finally finding its footing. This provocative report takes us deep inside the punk scene and moves from anger, rebellion, and self-destruction, to health, service to others, and genuine spiritual growth.
attempts to absolve myself. He just called for backup to fill out the rest of the report while he took me in. I told them that my name was Noah Peterson (Peter is my middle name) and that I was eighteen years old, so that they would take me to jail instead of Juve-l i v e f a s t d i e y o u n g 57 nile Hall. All of my friends were older than me and when they got busted they were always out within a couple of days but since I was a minor I always ended up spending a couple weeks in the Hall
hippies and all that peaceful shit. I’d rather fight and fuck any day. But I really didn’t want to feel like that anymore. I didn’t get sober to be hiding from the cops in my own fucking house. I woke up to the sound of the front door slamming, and for a minute I didn’t know where I was. Then I realized that I was still in my closet and I remembered the cops—maybe they had broken down the door. A chill ran down my spine and I closed my eyes, trying to shut out reality. I heard the refrigerator
was somewhat of a good thing. Our friendship had continued to be challenging and I felt like he wasn’t a very positive influence in my life at times and I was really trying to commit myself to the spiritual path. Vinny and Micah lived together for a while and Vinny opened up a m y f r i e n d s l o o k o u t f o r m e l i k e f a m i l y 93 store called 10 Times Dope that sold all the hip-hop, graffiti, and streetwear stuff. The store was a great success and Vinny really enjoyed all the
intentionally and consciously living as if you only have a year left of your life, and writing a new book about this experience of consciously turning toward death. We spoke at length about death, healing, and spiritual practice as well as all the other things that mattered to us. They were both empathetic about my breakup with Lola but said that they had the feeling that that one wasn’t going to work out. I was really interested in their dying practice. I think a part of me was also preparing to
group, meeting, or training in the evenings. On Thursday nights we had a small meditation group at the house. I would give meditation instructions and then we would talk about spiritual teachings or practice for a while. There was a growing interest in the punk and hardcore scene in understanding life from a spiritual perspective. And I wanted to follow up on the intention I had set in India to share the Buddhist teachings with my peers. The class was almost always followed by some sort of