Freedom from Prison

I've thought of many things I would like to do. One of them is to work in prisons. It might seem a strange wish, and perhaps naive of me. The fantasy of going in amongst 'hardened criminals' and 'helping' them, is, I'm sure, not uncommon, at least for  lucky people like myself who have no idea what it is really like to be incarcerated.

Recently, Don Childers, a friend of mine here on Gaia, sent me his book, Inside Out. Don spent two years in prison on a number of charges including possession of cocaine, consensual sex with a minor, and possession of firearms. He was 40, was married and had two sons, 17 and 20 years old. It's a beautiful, inspiring book, simply told and all the more effective because of this. As Don says on his profile:

Two years of prison changed my life, gave me life and awakened the healer within. It was when my freedom was taken away at age 40 that I started discovering the power in “being still.” And what a blessing it was.  In the stillness I found my strength, my life, my everything.

Don came to the realisation that he had been in his own personal prison long before:  he had been imprisoned by listening to his parents, grandparents, family members and friends telling him how to be, how to think.

He embarked on a journey of discovery. By uncovering who he was not he began discovering who he really was. "Nearly everybody is in a prison no matter where they are, whether behind walls or just within themselves."  

Don now ministers in prisons, and hopes to spread the work of Inside Out. Have a look at his website.

You can get copies of Inside Out from Amazon or from him directly.  He writes about miracles and healing; he writes about small events and large ones, - all of them a possibility for discovery:

"One day I asked a guard what time it was and he told me. Two other men were standing right there when I asked. When he told me the time the one inmate said, "3:20," and the other one said, "No, he said 3:24," and I said, "No, he didn't. He said 3:24." And the guard said, "No, I said it was "3:26." I thought, "What in the world; none of us heard the right time, even me."

We all heard what we wanted to. They thought it was nothing; nobody was interested in what had happened, but I was! I wanted to find out what had happened because I didn't think it was right to go on with life not knowing if I am hearing the other person correctly or if I am hearing what I want to hear."

It was while reading Don's book that I remembered my own dream of working in prisons, which began many years ago. I did not really have an idea of what this might look like, but I had met Leonard M. Shaw, who wrote a beautiful pamphlet called  “Love and Forgiveness, A Workbook for Self Healing and Healing Relationships". Leonard leads Love and Forgiveness Seminars at Monroe State Prison and, amongst other things, has been a consultant for Federal Offenders Rehabilitation.

Some of Leonard's methods are controversial.  He works with both survivors and perpetrators of sexual abuse (as well as physical/psychological abuse). The controversy centers around asking the survivor to put themselves in the shoes of the perpetrator.


This is deep work, and close to my heart. Perhaps this is why I'm drawn this work: I have always felt that what other people did, no matter how horrible, was a potential within me. It is the basis of many healing principles and methods, including Ho'oponopono.

And, I have spent time with people who have been inside prison. I have spent time with people who have done 'terrible' things.

Were they 'bad' people?

Kahlil Gibran wrote:

And one of the elders of the city said, “Speak to us of Good and Evil.”
And he answered:
Of the good in you I can speak, but not of the evil.
For what is evil but good tortured by its own hunger and thirst?
Verily when good is hungry it seeks food even in dark caves, and when it thirsts, it drinks even of dead waters.
You are good when you are one with yourself.
Yet when you are not one with yourself you are not evil.
For a divided house is not a den of thieves; it is only a divided house.
And a ship without rudder may wander aimlessly among perilous isles yet sink not to the bottom.
You are good when you strive to give of yourself.
Yet you are not evil when you seek gain for yourself.
For when you strive for gain you are but a root that clings to the earth and sucks at her breast.
Surely the fruit cannot say to the root, “Be like me, ripe and full and ever giving of your abundance.”
For to the fruit giving is a need, as receiving is a need to the root.
You are good when you are fully awake in your speech,
Yet you are not evil when you sleep while your tongue staggers without purpose.
And even stumbling speech may strengthen a weak tongue.
You are good when you walk to your goal firmly and with bold steps.
Yet you are not evil when you go thither limping.
Even those who limp go not backward.
But you who are strong and swift, see that you do not limp before the lame, deeming it kindness.
You are good in countless ways, and you are not evil when you are not good,
You are only loitering and sluggard.
Pity that the stags cannot teach swiftness to the turtles.
In your longing for your giant self lies your goodness: and that longing is in all of you.
But in some of you that longing is a torrent rushing with might to the sea, carrying the secrets of the hillsides and the songs of the forest.
And in others it is a flat stream that loses itself in angles and bends and lingers before it reaches the shore.
But let not him who longs much say to him who longs little, “Wherefore are you slow and halting?”
For the truly good ask not the naked, “Where is your garment?” nor the houseless, “What has befallen your house?”
The Prophet xxii


I'm also reminded of Thich Nhat Hanh's poem, one I often quote:

Don't say that I will depart tomorrow --
even today I am still arriving.

Look deeply: every second I am arriving
to be a bud on a Spring branch,
to be a tiny bird, with still-fragile wings,
learning to sing in my new nest,
to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower,
to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.

I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry,
to fear and to hope.

The rhythm of my heart is the birth and death
of all that is alive.

I am the mayfly metamorphosing
on the surface of the river.
And I am the bird
that swoops down to swallow the mayfly.

I am the frog swimming happily
in the clear water of a pond.
And I am the grass-snake
that silently feeds itself on the frog.

I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones,
my legs as thin as bamboo sticks.
And I am the arms merchant,
selling deadly weapons to Uganda.

I am the twelve-year-old girl,
refugee on a small boat,
who throws herself into the ocean
after being raped by a sea pirate.
And I am the pirate,
my heart not yet capable
of seeing and loving.

I am a member of the politburo,
with plenty of power in my hands.
And I am the man who has to pay
his "debt of blood" to my people
dying slowly in a forced-labor camp.

My joy is like Spring, so warm
it makes flowers bloom all over the Earth.
My pain is like a river of tears,
so vast it fills the four oceans.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can hear all my cries and my laughter at once,
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can wake up,
and so the door of my heart
can be left open,
the door of compassion.

These days I have a clearer idea of what I might do 'in prisons'. The Diving Deeper writing workshops I guide are very much about telling our stories. This is, in my experience, transformational - not only to write down our 'stories', but to witness them being read out and heard by others. Perhaps, one day, I will get the chance to offer my work in prisons. In the meantime, I know of many others who have expressed a similar interest.

There are many organisations and people actively involved in this area. Gangaji, for example. She says: I love going into prisons, because when we talk about freedom in prison, the men who have realized freedom know that freedom is not about the body.


Some links to explore:

The Gangaji Foundation Prison Program
Liberation Prison Project, A Tibetan Buddhist organization (with many links to similar organizations)
Shambhala Prison Community
Buddhism Behind Bars Project:  a book being sponsored by Wildmind - soliciting manuscripts and arranging for  inmate writers to have personal coaching in writing and when they have enough manuscripts they will submit the collection to publishers.
Prison Healing Works New Zealand organisation which "represents the outcome of five years volunteer prison ministry coupled with song-writing based around that ministry."
Boston Minstrel Company volunteer singers and musicians who visit shelters, residential facilities and prisons
The Insight Prison Project (of which The Work of Byron Katie group is a part)