Questions about my prior prison internment arise from time to time. Some are curious as to what it was like, others how I managed to keep emotional balance through the experience, others are interested to know how I now deal with the shocking injustice of it all.
As to the injustice both civility and criminally, the false accusations, the prosecution, the forced plea agreement, the eventual internment, and the legal torture of diesel therapy, to which I was subjected, I have spent a fair amount of time in contemplation. On balance, I have come to the conclusion that ultimately, from an eternal perspective, it was for my own good. However, when going through these difficult experiences, I was stunned, overwhelmed, and generally not of the thinking that these were just experiences designed for my personal evolution. As the old saying goes, “It’s hard to remember your mission was to drain the swamp when your ass is up to alligators.”
All of us suffer unfair experiences from time to time. The ultimate question is how we respond to it. The normal reactions seem to be first shock, then indignation, anger, the desire for vengeance, shame, depression, etc. All of these emotions immanent from fear. And yes, I experienced all of these pretty much in that order. However, after months in prison, one comes to something akin to a new normal. You accept it. It is simply what it is. And you come to realize there is very little you can do about it, except make yourself miserable by focusing upon the injustice of it all. So, if you are wise, you try not to focus on injustice. In my case, the legal torture of Diesel therapy reignited the misery, but once those months finally came to an end, I was so relieved to be back to the prison camp that I realized I was actually smiling.
For the most part, I managed to keep myself in a better state by focusing on helping others. My full-time job in prison was in education. I taught mandated classes to inmates that had not graduated from High School. This led into avenues of experience I could hardly have imaged were I living outside of prison. Aside from humbling me, which the experience tends to do, I found ways to be of service that gave me a sense of value whilst living within a situation most would think untenable.
In retrospect, I was given a gift of time. Time to consider once more, who am I? Where did I come from? Why am I here? What is my highest and best use in this mortal existence? What should I be focused upon, and other questions of this nature. I joined a Buddhist group that met twice weekly, a Sunday and Wednesday night church group, and I became hyper involved in teaching night classes on subjects of personal self-development, astronomy, and physics. These activities reduced the obsession on injustice and oriented me into much more healthy ways of being.
Prisons are not quiet, but because I did not go to the cafeteria for any of my meals and instead prepared my own food at the tiny desk in my bunk cubicle, I had periods of time each day in quiet to myself. For 45 minutes each day at noon, 31 of the 32 inmates in my prison-wing were off to the cafeteria for lunch. I sat in a plastic chair backed up against a wall learning to mediate. Prison was not easy, it was not designed to be, but ultimately I was benefitted. It took years of processing the ever present fear of prison life into something more beautiful whereby I can admit its value.
America locks up its citizens at roughly 5 to 10 times the rate of all other "first-world" nations. America has more people in prison than any other country in the world and more than most first world countries combined. According to the jailers at our prison, 80% of prisoners will reoffend and return. They call this revolving door of prisoner release, re-offense, recapture, reintern, “recidivism” and the guards are vocal about it being the guarantee of their career path. I absolutely do not want to return, but I can admit that in many ways I was benefited by the experience.