Tradition 1-4-10

Tradition if the root of who we are, the link to our heritage that reminds us of who we are by reinforcing who we were.  It is a source of structure and law.  For many it is even more than law.  It is their religion, guiding faith as it guides morality and society.

Marriage is one of the most followed traditions around.  As children we are told that when we grow up we'll marry and have children.  It is expected.  We are told it is a commitment made between two people....for life.  Knowing what I do today, this whole idea is absurd.  How many people can truly grasp anything for life?  People in prison, serving a life sentence, have explained that it took years coming to terms with that sentence, and that others never do.  I wasn't thinking about a life sentence the day I was married.  I loved the woman and was willing to share my life with her.  That's it.

As tradition roots us, grounds us and gives us hope, so it also wreaks destruction and denies change.  I would never pretend to understand another person well enough to demand that they change their traditions.  But how foolish is it to hold to those ancient rituals and holy texts, scribbled on unreadable parchments, without regard for the changes that have taken place around us?  The world is forever changing, moved by advancements in technology, the rise and fall of religions, even by the blending of our cultures.  If the root of our perceptions, traditions, hold static, then we are doomed into destructive Dogma.

'Why' is a dangerous word.  It challenges old comfortable ways.  Forces people to explore new ideas or speculate on facts which run contrary to bound literal orthodoxy.  It's funny how people are:  They question all of their beliefs except for the ones that they really believe and those they never think to question.  They hide behind doctrine and words recorded in ancient scrolls, refusing to look at the alternatives.  I distrust a single, exclusionary dogma.

Why is marriage necessary for anyone?  Why should people marry?  Marriage is not solely a covenant between a man and a woman; all animals mate and produce their young.  Marriage is a covenant between a man and a woman on the one side and tradition on the other.  People marry according to the law only to become upstanding members of the community.  The one constant in all of society is that only those who obey the laws, traditions, rituals, and custom of marriage are responsible adults.  To refuse marriage is to be irresponsible, a child, a criminal.  Why? 

Love is the only bond my lover and I need.

My Fellow Inmates 6-6-10

My fellow inmates are tall and short, strong and weak, kind and cruel, intelligent or slow.  They are funny, popular, reliable and miserable.  They are lovers, story tellers, fathers and professionals.  They are friends, enemies, compassionate, selfish and generous.  Countless identities live inside of these walls: The murderer who killed and enjoyed the act, a friend whose heart was in the right place, and the rapists who worships the flesh of others.  There are the children that never grew up, the child who's fears have never left him, and then there are the men we hope to become.

Just because we are in prison doesn't mean that we are bad people or any different than anyone else.  Some of us had a rough life or just got caught where others did not.  Some of us just needed a break, help and direction.  Others are hopeless.  All of us can still feel guilt and shame.  We can still fall in love, try to do the right thing, and appreciate what the right thing is.  We still carry the joys of life, the compassion and the love.  We remember all of our fears and dreams.  Equally, we carry the hatred and horrors of our existence.  Some of us will be released only to do another unbelievably bad thing.

We are the sum of our lives, of who we were.  We are who we are, but we're all more complicated than simply being good or bad.  We've got people who are capable of doing things that you can't even imagine.  These are the men that have problems with authority.  Breaking rules to them is almost an end in itself; doesn't matter what the rule happens to be, the fact that it's a rule makes it fair game.  It's a sort of independence of spirit, usually combined with an inflated self-esteem - or lack of - and a low opinion of the system and society in general.

Life would be so much more straight forward if all the deviant men were clearly marked one way and all the honest men marked another.  Society would like for us to believe that some men are monsters - evil through and through.  Men who are not right in the head, that suffer from illness and are unable to control what they do.  This is societies way of trying to make sense of the world.  It isn't true.  Anyone could work next to another person for years and never see or hear anything to give them reason for concern.  Until one day that persons not at work and your being questioned by the authorities. 

Anyone is capable of a deviant act under the right circumstances.  If the temptation is strong enough.  Perhaps even you.

Dear Inner Child 9-8-10

I have never written you or even thought about it.  Seems to me that you know everything I do.  Of course, just because you do doesn't mean we can talk about it.  I guess I'll get to the point.  We were left alone for most of our childhood.  Having to look out for ourselves was a burden we were not equipped to handle.  For many years we concentrated on making other people happy.  We sought love, attention, recognition, and care.  We had limited success and learned the following lessons:  We couldn't make a person love us by being a selfless lover.  Something we were still trying to do as an adult.  We learned that when we threw around money, drugs, and other entertainment that everyone was our friend.  But once all these things disappeared we were left standing alone.  As you know there are many more.  We'll discuss them later.
It's so easy to look back now and recognize the addictive/compulsive behaviors we were developing.  The same behaviors that followed us into adulthood and eventually lead us to prison.  So, what have we learned?  We've learned that we are not alone.  We will not find peace and contentment in the arms of a woman.  There is more to life than success and money.  It's ok to be comfortable with who we are and our beliefs.  People are not equally right, just equally human.  The world doesn't revolve around us and we can not control everything or everyone.  Running away doesn't solve our problems.  People will love us for who we are and not because of what we can give them. We've learned that every person is important.  People matter, their feelings and their dreams and their efforts and just their very existence, it all matters.

We've come a long way, you and me.  Remember that we need to continue living each and every day.  There is happiness, joy, and beauty in living.  There are things that we're just beginning to see, experience and learn.  You'll never be alone again.

I love you,

Your Adult Self

How do I feel? 2010

Other people felt, I didn't.  I couldn't trust my feelings if I really had feelings.  Maybe I was just pretending to have feelings.  Something had broke during my childhood.  I couldn't give up my feelings honestly and had consigned myself to a life of being trapped in the prison of my body, feeling something, but hearing corrupted versions emerge from my mouth.

I'd forgotten how to feel and wasn't happy.  I believed there was something lacking, something missing from my life.  I wasn't living at all.  I was only interested in money and personal fulfillment.  These were the driving forces behind me.  I wanted things for myself.  I wanted them quick and easy.  I would blame everyone around me for my problems.  I couldn't face the selfishness that had driven me into desperate situations.  I made my own hell, in many ways, many times a day.

Sometimes I don't know if I should be here, in prison, or out with the people of the world.  It's hard to take a step back and appreciate exactly what I'm doing here.  You know, I look at myself, look at the people around me, and all I see are normal people with the same problems everybody has.  I happen to believe people can change if they really want to.  How can I worry about making money or looking for power after all of this?  All my hardships are because of the choices I made.  My mind is focused on the truly important things.  What I need is the chance to show you my heart, to prove people can change.  To show you love can surmount all obstacles.  A chance is all I need.

The question is: How do I feel today?  My head feels pretty much the same.  I mean, I think the same way.  I'm definitely still me.  Which is good news for everyone who thought I'd walk out of here some born again monster.  Here in my heart I feel amazing.  I feel........I don't know.  I feel right.  Thats the best way to describe it.  I feel optimistic about me, about what I could do.  I feel as though I can be the person I've always wanted to be.

I am more fearful today than the day I entered prison.  This is actually a good thing.  For many years I hadn't been truly afraid of anything.  I hadn't felt anything at all.  I'd told myself that the failure to feel wasn't a bad thing.  There were always things to do and see.  I can now see how ridiculous I had been.  I can see how deeply you felt for me.  To be loved so much and not know it is astounding, and truly moving.  Lets face it, when it came to emotion, I was damaged goods.  I'm sorry I couldn't see it before now.

I first saw you sixteen years ago.  It seems like a lifetime has passed by.  I feel like I've know you forever.  You've always had my best interest at heart.  How do I repay such a profound investment?  I feel the depth of our relationship:  The easy familiarity, warmth and friendship.  Does it hurt me to still love you?  Not really.  I've wrapped my head around the fact that we may never be together again.  Almost seems like one of those tragic love stories.   Hmm.....I suppose it is.

I accept that I have no control over anything but my actions.  I dont' take anything for granted anymore.  I used to go through life accepting everything that came my way.  I didnt' get too excited because that was the way it was.  You know that tingly feeling you get in the pit of your stomach?  That feeling of excitement and anticipation and happiness.  I get that all the time these days.  Sometimes just looking at shit, like the way the sun hits the mountains, or looking up at the stars and feeling that there really is hope for me.  I get excited when we're having a good conversation.  The worlds falling a part and I'm sitting here thinking these are some of the best days of my life.  What does that say about me?

Tattoos 6-25-10

When I first came to prison I walked around with my head down, eyes fixed straight ahead, and shoulders bent forward.  I deliberately avoided eye contact - that was too risky.  The worst part was not knowing what was going on.  My enforced inactivity - at night - had me pacing in my cell.  After a couple of hours I'd go to my bunk, stretch out, and try to sleep.  I couldn't.  Thoughts spun through my head, brought on by my own inactivity, frustration and fear.  The hours dragged by.  I paced the cell when I got tired of laying down and lay down when I was tired of pacing.  My cell consisted of two bunks, a desk, and the toilet/sink combo.  It didn't take long to take everything in.  I would sometimes inspect the bars of my cell just as a distraction.

Being quiet, unobtrusive, forcing yourself to stay distant, is a way of life in here.  A protection.  I live around men who fear competence.  I didn't want to draw attention to myself.  Occasionally I'd slip and say the wrong thing, or I'd let my true nature show.  Some of those men didn't like this.  Maybe they were paranoid and thought I'd take their place.  Maybe not.  If I've learned anything, it's this: Men hate what they fear.

People project what they want others to see, or at least they try to.  Our perception of others is always distorted by our own prejudices, hopes and fears.  Appearance versus reality.  Sometimes we look at others and see ourselves.  It was with this in mind that I decided to get prison tattoos.

Tattoos have become a rite of passage shared by millions of people.  You have your clean cut teenagers, hard core drug users, suburban house wives, and prison inmates.  Tattooing is a visual declaration of power and change.  It's an announcement to the world:  I am in control of my own flesh.  I belong.  The intoxicating feeling of control derived from physical pain and transformation has addicted millions - cosmetic surgery, body piercing, body building, bulimia, and transgendering.  The human spirit craves mastery over its flesh and acceptance.

Friendship 2009

Have you thought about the word 'friend' and the responsibilities such a label carries?  Could a friend desert another?  Would a friend watch another walk into a dangerous situation?  What is the meaning of friendship?  It seems such an obvious thing, friendship, but becomes so very complicated.  Friendship means many different things to many different people.  In some places, especially prison, friendship is born of mutual profit.  While both parties are better off because of the union, friendship remains.  Unfortunately, loyalty is a part of this union and as soon as one thinks he will gain more without the other, the friendship will end quickly.  Most of those who have called me friend were only looking for the union and never gave their loyalty.

There is a fine line between friendship and parenting, and when that line is crossed, the result is often disastrous.  A parent who strives to make a friend of their child sacrifices authority, and though that parent may be comfortable with surrendering the dominant position; the unintentional result will be to steal from that child the necessary guidance and sense of security a parent is supposed to give.  On the opposite side, a friend who takes a role as a parent forgets the most important ingredient of friendship: Respect.

Respect is the guiding principle of friendship.  Friends accept each others beliefs, with humility and respect.  Friendship is a bond made of trust and respect.  Its a common ground that fosters compassion and understanding.  Haven't you ever noticed we choose our friends almost entirely on how closely there thinking matches our own?  Everyone has their blind spots, the places where they're so sure of themselves that they see only their own rightness.  It is our friends that keep us honest.

My father once said I'd be lucky if I ever had five people I could call friend.  I didn't understand what he meant.  Actually, I remember getting upset by his statement.  I thought at the time he was insulting me.  Heck, I had more friends than I could count.  It has taken years, but I've finally figured out what he was trying to tell me.

Regret 2009

My early days of incarceration were difficult.  I'd lay awake at night, staring up into the darkness with thoughts running through my head.  The self-doubt was the hardest of all to deal with.  The thoughts, the doubts, the fears crowded my mind over and over and over; I'd run through the decisions I had made.  Could I have done something different?  Something what would have avoided this situation?  If only I could blink my eyes and find that everything had been a bad dream.

I regret the life I took.  The actions I've made that hurt and caused others pain.  I regret the lack of feeling I have toward people and situations.  If only I could flip a switch and feel what others feel, I believe I would.  I regret the decisions I made that turned the lonliness I felt into a stem and a bottle.  What I turned to was killing me.  I took risks no man should take.

I enjoy analyzing most situations, examining and debating both sides of any question - sometimes at great length and sometimes just for a reaction.  Today, I simply say what I see or believe - too freely at times - regrettably, people with devious minds see calculation in my honesty.  Have I not explained myslef clearly or am I being misunderstood?  Why would people think I'm bull shitting them or being insincere?  How much have I changed?  How much of what is inside me remains unchanged?  I regret this self-doubt I feel that leads me to question myself and motives.  Self-doubt is a disease and if it gets out of control it can, and usually does, become self-fulfilling.

Unitarian Universalists do not have much room for guilt or regret, at least not for beating up ourselves, but if it serves as a catalyst for insight and a motivator for change, then it can have value for us.  Insight plus feelings equals change.  I believe I'm headed in the right direction.  One day at a time is how I will turn it around.