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Though much of what was written in this book was done so in quiet solitude, there are many ideas that had been borrowed from
inumerable sources and media, books, magazines, films, public libraries, Public Broadcasting, radio and TV, casual conversation, people
I by happenstance met only once and never knew their name. All in their mysterious way had contributed to the mental processes that
ultimately became this work. Surely, it did not come into being out of a vacuum. And to all those who had contributed to it, even though
you yourselves may not be aware of it, and I do not know you, I owe a great gratitude. Thanks for making a difference.

There were also many of you whom I did know and from whom I at some level borrowed ideas, gestures, nuances. Names come to
mind like Billy Coleman,Robert Ragan,Jacques Lawrence,Michael Savchak,Chris Herman, Marc Hymowitz-Howard,Jacques
Dia,Howard Pallaske-Christensen and Mieko,Zorianna Masnyk-Paslawsky,Louis Bez,Ivan Kalita,Paul Arlia,Andy Au,Ed
Gaffney,Richard Emmanuel,Paul Barton,Barry Payne,Steve Elberfeldt,Tony Galise,Harry Weinbaum,Jim Carrol,Eddie McGrath,Allen
Dean,Darron Wissinger,James and Melinda Murphy,Kahla Hutten-Varipatis,Nancy Wood,Martin and Donna Seim,John Martino,Bob
and Judy Leonard,Arthur Mazzola,Eric Kraft,Alex Jackson,Paula Appleby-Richards,Connie Gatling,Kate Feavearyear,Richard
Stone,Frank Finizio,Ted and Doris Sarhanis,Maryanne Dower and Jesse,Bernadette Alejandro,Paul Dreidger and Susan Fobert,Helen
Jensen and Daria Dykyj,Roman Nomitch,Jim Vinzent,Barbara Kossen, Mark Sullivan,Al King,Masoud and Fariba Roshan,Ernest
Goode... and others whose faces I see but whose names I cannot remember. Some of you I knew intimately; others were passing friends
from whom I learned, who had helped me, and to whom I hope I gave something of value in return. You all touched my life, sometimes
deeply. I am sure that at one time or another, you also had to endure some crazy idea of mine that I had to dissertate at that particular
moment, often in some inappropriate time, and you were patient. Also, of professional necessity, I leave out the names of my clients,
though they too are dear to me, and no doubt at times they were also patient.

There were friends who also contributed more directly. Charles David Morgan would sit up with me late into the night, falling asleep
over a copy of Thoreau, while we discussed philosophical ideas. George Markowsky and I would ride the New York City subways on
the way home from school, and puzzle if zero times infinity is one, or can you see the universe in a drop of rain. Susan Feavearyear and
I traveled around the world together, exploring with passion the world of feelings. Bob Seeley, was an enthusiastic and supportive reader
of my works, not without criticism, as well as his friends Olivia Morgan, Tom and Ann, and also his wife Jean. They invited me to speak
to a group of metaphysical seekers, and I lectured them to tedium for four hours. It's on tape. I was married for eighteen years to a very
fine and dear human being, Heather Alexander, though in the end we parted for reasons that were not clear then, and hopefully are more
meaningful now. I truly appreciated her quick wit, her intuition, intellectual depth and broad knowledge. She had the patience to let me
work on my manuscripts, sometimes at the price of neglect, and corrected my many spelling and grammatical errors. I owe her great
gratitude for all of her help, support, and love. Thank you. I also am grateful to Alison McGhee for typing the manuscript on an early
Apple II-e; to Steven Spiegel for converting those old disks into new Mac disks; and dear friends Wayne Hodges and Arin Gilbert and
Enrico DeBonis for help on the Web. Finally, I owe a great debt to Peter Randall, and wife Judy, for the first publication of: "Man in All
that Is--Habeas Mentem."

I would also like to thank my teachers, those who left a special mark on me, but alas I do not know their names. In the dark ages of my
education, "They" were know only as "Mr. or Mrs. or Miss." Nevertheless, my special thanks to Mrs. Levinson, arithmetic, Miss.
Sheehan, algebra, Mr. Wood, geometry, Mr. Barkam, English literature, Mr. Raab, English grammar, Dr. Lee Grove, literature, Mr.
Amiji, history, Mr. Annattazio, who taught me to think, and Joseph Pattison, who helped me graduate, BA Market-Economics. There
were many more, but names have been lost to me in time.

We are connected to family in ways that connect us to no one else. Theirs is the direct link to the hereditary chain that dates back to the
beginning of time. I am especially thankful to my great aunt Maria Kouzan and her husband Stephan, for raising me in France while I
was very young. I owe much of my love to them. Also to my godfather Leonid Lyman, for the long walks on the beaches or parks of
New York. We had great times talking of deep things, though I was more eager to skip pebbles on the water. I listened nevertheless. And
to my mother Katherine Iwanyzkyj, and her husband Mykola, father to my two sisters, Oksana and Alexandria. I later as an adult met
my father. His name was Leonard Jensen, pen Leonid Poltava, and it was wonderful to meet another human being with my smile, and
my ideas. His many works of poetry and prose are published here and abraoad. The list of family is of necessity short. I had never
known my grandparents, nor cousins and aunts and uncles, as they were either separated by distance or political systems, or were killed
in wars. My grandfather Edouard, a medical doctor, died in a Siberian Soviet camp. My mother had been captured by Nazi soldiers and
sent to labor camps in Germany. When the Red Army came to liberate her, she escaped to the American sector.

We attract many human beings into our lives, and I am most fortunate to have attracted so many who are wonderful. On my travels, I
especially remember Amar Raj and his family, of Kathmandu, Nepal. They named their son after me, though Amar wanted to name a
mountain. And Wali and his family, from Shrinagar and Trivandrum, India, with whom I had wonderful visits and discussions of worldly
things, and religion. Abdulah in Sudan was a charming cad, and we hit upon a short but intense friendship. He took a special liking to my
travel companion, Susan. I also enjoyed meeting the tall Australian, Francis, at Bali Breeze in Bali, Indonesia, who taught me that "it all
works out". How could I ever forget Josie Cunha of Manaus, Amazonas, Brazil. He taught me to sleep in hammocks suspended from
trees in the jungle so the ants would leave us alone, and insisted on a fire all night to keep away the jaguars, which I could plainly hear.
There are many more, but again, I remember them only as faces with no names, like the two little boys in Madras, India, who livened up
the world and invited us into their homes, just when human kindness and joy were lost.

The most important person in my life I want to thank is my beautiful wife, Cinzia. We were bound to meet, in La Puebla, New Mexico,
as I was alone with my two wolf-dogs in the desert, and she was alone taking photographs. There were no other human beings around,
and she bravely stood up to the two charging beasts, Karu and Gentle, who were truly only curious of her. So was I, as I had heard there
was a young lady visiting from Rome. Her daily inspiration and love only reenforce for me that the world is a beautiful place. And even if
at times life is troublesome, with that special love that flows from two human beings, all things can be made better. I am deeply indebted
to her for having found me wandering aimlessly in the desert on that hot summer day.

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