offered by an anonymous source
I remember getting into a lot of mischief, and being in and out of trouble since the age of six or seven. My guess it’s because of a dysfunctional family, a mother who suffered from addiction and a father who was absorbed in his military career, which lead to prolonged absences.
I rebelled at everything. Running out of the classroom in elementary school and going off on my own adventures are earliest occurrences I can recall. These behaviors caused me to switch schools multiple times just during my elementary years. This escalated into more pronounced delinquent behavior as my family was stationed at another base when I was 10. I fell into this obsession to run with gangs, it gave me a feeling of security, protection, and a sense of superiority among others. I started beating people up, carrying a gun. and I was real badass.
My first incarceration came at the age of 13. It was very traumatic. I suffered a separation from all I had become familiar with… family, friends, usual comforts, and my privacy. Other misguided youth surrounded me and we all suffered the same feelings, just different story lines. After six months I was released from the juvenile facility and back to my parents. Within 2 weeks my parents had a big fight resulting in my mother leaving my father and taking us to upstate New York quite rapidly.
Eventually I was incarcerated in New York, leading to a full year sentence in a juvenile facility. During this incarceration I also “caught” my first charge as an adult for assault on another inmate. Happy 16th birthday to me.
My mother relocated to Florida during my incarceration. Upon release I was put on a plane and sent to Florida. I continued getting arrested. All total I was locked up in Florida, Texas, Georgia, New York, Ohio and Alabama.
I was a career criminal. A criminal who has shot at people, stolen, robbed, sold drugs, and assaulted numerous people with little to no remorse for my actions. The DOC is not a rehabilitative program, it tends to breed smarter criminals and thrives on recidivism. It is not an industry that heals. I wish I could tell you that the rehabilitation of the Department of Corrections (DCO) is what helped me in my dramatic change, but it wasn’t.
In 2007, a Buddhist guy came to our facility twice a month. My idea of meditation, at the time, had to do with developing super human powers. This concept appealed to my power- hungry need for safety, a feeling permeating from past delinquencies. So… of course I went to check it out. Funny thing is, we did not meditate. This man, who is a saint and still one of the closet friends I have to this day, just talked.
His first talk addressed the four noble truths. You know life is suffering, our suffering comes from our attachments, our desires. He said, “The way to break the suffering is through following the eight fold path.” Please excuse my very simplistic explanation of this, but the gist is there. This teaching resonated so much with me I was “hooked” immediately. I had studied The Bible during many of my incarcerations. I’ve been “saved” I don’t know how many times. (I’m not knocking Christianity. I did feel a sense of peace reading Jesus’s teachings.) None of it “fixed” me, however. I was still there with all my s***.
Imagine a dorm room of 80 other loud and obnoxious men, who mostly hated me. This is where I began to sit. Trying to practice in that environment was the hardest thing I have ever done. At first, I couldn’t sit for 5 minutes without having to stop. Still I practiced, twice a day, and eventually the sitting got easier. Yoga also came to my life at this time. Luckily the chapel at the prison had a donated audiotape by Kripalu. I listened intently trying to follow along as best I could. Eventually it got easier too. I kept up both of these practices for last 18 months before my release of last and longest sentence of 5 years. They helped me dramatically. I felt different. A clarity and lightness assisted me in reacting differently upon my release at the age of 28. Finally, I felt like I was getting my shit together.
The world outside of prison moves at a different pace. Within the walls of prison time seems to stop. People can change while incarcerated and often expectations (from everyone) can be high. The transition is tough. Sometimes these expectations are based on who you were before you entered while at the same time… folks expect change of some sort.
Society is unforgiving. Finding a job is nearly impossible and getting into college seemed equally impossible. Neither would have happened for me without my practice. Learning to sit still with my own crap, in a highly dangerous environment, gave me the fortitude and perseverance to make it over major obstacles. It’s been an up hill battle the whole way.
After a visit with family I committed to living at a residential Zen center for almost a full year upon release. Despite the challenges I faced, living on a couch while going to school and so on. I never strayed from my practice. A growing awareness of the practice’s impact, on my life, motivated me to bring it to more people. In 2008 I wholeheartedly pursued becoming a dharma teacher. Along the path I felt a limitation, so I opened my scope of practice. I needed a better “vehicle.” I spoke to my teacher about this. He had interned at the UMASS medical school in the 90’s and learned the Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction (MBSR) program. My teacher is the kind that doesn’t suggest much, instead when an idea enters his head about someone’s path he sets you on it. I trust him and he hasn’t been wrong yet. I completed the requirements to teach MBSR in 2014.
Now, I teach to the public, but the real work I do is in the prison. The last place I ever thought I would voluntarily walk into was a prison. My teacher, not so subtly, encouraged me to volunteer there. Ironically, I couldn’t find any other place to do an internship for my Bachelor of Social Work because of my record. I did, however, met the requirements to become a volunteer at a prison! I mean come on! Right?!?!?!
Working at the prison is the most fulfilling thing I have done in my 35 years of life. Classes to the general public are still part of my life. There is a level of rawness with the prisoners that is profound. The desire for these men to change, to be able to “meet” themselves is something to behold. It is still a hard, loud environment to sit in. Finding a relative silence within the confines of so much noise and suffering is sobering and deeply impactful on me still.
I have noticed from my years of teaching these men, they are just like me. Forgotten and cast away by their family, friends, and society. Placed in boxes where healing can not be done. Most of the times they are placed on psychotropic drugs to subdue them so they are less of a hassle to the prison guards. Unfortunately, experience has shown me the abusiveness and need to control of the prisoners by correctional individuals is due to a suffering of their own compassion fatigue, burnout, and trauma. It is a vicious cycle with unforeseeable way out of for the majority of them.
Being in the south, even teaching MBSR as a secular practice, still scares people away. There is still the stigma that this is the devil’s practice. Inmates checking out MBSR; who also attend Muslim or Christian practice to find relief; are often shunned by other inmates of their same faith. This causes them to loose the only support base they have in prison. Contemplative practices are still stigmatized by prison staff and administration. Few are willing to believe the research and even less will outwardly support it. Inmates share with me that it is shunned behind my back. This is all a work in progress. I try to focus less on the obstacles and more on the solutions.
A few months ago I was granted my first 2-day retreat at the prison. It had phenomenal results. I am committed to keep pushing for these men. Highlighting the real results I find and presenting research studies to the administration is all part of my commitment. Changes in the inmates themselves are continuously observable. Change can come. No one is without the ability to change direction and become a better person. Allowing a space to start to heal their own trauma is the key. We can’t heal them. We can offer tools and allow space for a chance to begin self-healing.
Any time an inmate or person from the public thanks me I have the same answer, “I did nothing. You did the work.” I want them to realize that the healing came from within them. The changes they made were due to their willingness to meet the rough edges of life. I keep pointing all my students back into themselves, where the true teacher lies.
Recently, on Facebook, there was a conversation regarding doing something nice for someone else. It spoke to the expectation of receiving something in return for being nice, and that we are running a business. We need to think about this. Truly it’s not wrong to get paid for certain teachings. Maybe that’s all some of us want is to be in business, and I can respect that choice. What I am asking you to remember is you have something that is more valuable than money. We all have tools to give to others in the lowest states of their lives. Consider a voluntary offering that could make a dramatic change.
I am so grateful for the man who volunteered his time to come into prison and give me the space to learn so much. It has allowed me to become the man I am today. I am happy the majority of the time. However, the amount of isolation and trauma I faced growing up still shadows me to this day. I find space and freedom through my practice. This freedom is not from sadness, loneliness, or fear. It is a freedom from the drive to run. The courage I’ve gained allows me to face and “sit” with feelings until they pass. The moment of passing is my liberation. It’s a liberation I want to share with as many others as I can even those who do not have the ability to pay for a class. Think on this my friends. I encourage you to find a balance and give as much as you get.
-anonymous