Where the alchemy of intention, hope, action and chaos meet.
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‘Better a fight than a feed’ would have described Danny well. A young man in his mid-twenties, in a maximum security prison for bank robbery and substance abuse.
All his life, Danny had been a rebel and anyone telling him what to do—just didn’t cut it. But this felt different.
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When he first went to prison he just loved to fight, particularly guards, which sent him to the high-security ‘Super Max’ unit. There, he still loved to fight—even with his hands and ankles cuffed.
The Super Max inmates started a series of demonstrations, demanding some extra services; one, in particular, was access to library books. The governor relented and said they could have some. The Super Max guards went to the main library and as revenge tried to pick the most boring of books— mechanical engineering, maths and an old book on Buddhism. For a guard in that facility, nothing seemed more boring and useless than Buddhism.
The books were placed on a trestle and inmates were allowed to quickly shuffle past, cuffs on wrists and ankles and grab one book. They didn’t have time to peruse titles so Danny just grabbed a book. It was the one on Buddhism.
Danny stayed up all night reading; he just loved the book. But what really sold him was this bit, (and I paraphrase )
The Buddha was teaching a man who was rather sceptical.
The man said, Prove to me that what you say works.
The Buddha replied, Just try it. If it does not work you would be crazy to do it. But if it works you would be crazy not to continue.
All his life, Danny had been a rebel and anyone telling him what to do—just didn’t cut it. But this felt different.
He started to practice what little he could glean about meditation. He was impressed that it helped him focus on fighting better, letting go of all those distracting thoughts and feelings of pain. Not exactly what the Buddha was thinking about, but it motivated Danny to continue. He finally quieted down a lot and was let back into the ordinary maximum security section.
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Ten years earlier, I was facilitating drug and alcohol groups on a casual basis in the same prison. I felt I was not achieving much for inmates, they all had attended different groups and courses and most of it passed them by. For them prison life was boring, so going to a group was entertaining and there was often free coffee and biscuits.
I sensed a deep soul food hunger in these men, that was not named and not catered for. I had been on the Yoga and Buddhism journey for the last ten years and thought these guys might really dig a Yoga session. I managed to organize it and had eight men turn up. We did some exercises; deep relaxation, guided journeys, and meditation. The men were stunned by the experience, loved it and wanted more. But my plans to do more sessions fell apart when the prison schedules were changed, as was often the case, and I could not organize another yoga class.
I set an intention – If ever the opportunity presented itself I would get back into prison and offer soul food stuff.
Fast forward ten years. Danny is out of Super-Max. He thinks about getting a Buddhist chaplain. He sees Christian chaplains, Muslim Chaplains, Greek Orthodox chaplains and a Coptic chaplain but no Buddhist. So he starts agitating for one.
I got to meet Danny. We mainly spoke through the yard prison bars.
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The head office of the prison chaplaincy agrees and puts the call out through various Buddhist networks. It arrives at my local monastery, the closest to the prison. The Abbot asks, ‘anyone want to be a chaplain at the local maximum security prison.’ I respond immediately ‘yes I will do it’.
I end up as a Buddhist chaplain cooking up soul food for prisoners. When I first showed up, I am wore jeans and a T-shirt. The prisoners and especially the guards didn’t treat me as the real thing. I noticed the place was seriously on about uniforms, guards in police style gear and priests in priestly gear. So I went to the local work wear store and got a uniform style shirt in Burgundy and had Buddhist Chaplain embroidered in gold on the front and back. Then I was treated as the real thing.
I got to meet Danny. We mainly spoke through the yard prison bars. There were 12 different yards, segregated on race and type of offense. It was not racist, it was about men not getting killed.
Getting classes organized was hard, as most prisoners could not mix with different yards, so I did what I could and for six years ran men’s groups in that prison one day a week. I started off with meditation and then just chatting about “soul food” stuff. Australian Indigenous prisoners really enjoyed it, talking about the spirit world, totem and dream time stories.
So what is the takeaway of all this apart from being a good story? For me, it speaks of the Alchemy of life and what can be created from the ingredients of—intention, trust, hope, action, and chaos—standing up and getting into it. You might like to comment on what your takeaway is.
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Photo: GettyImages
When I was younger I always thought if I ever got sent to jail at least I would have meditation to help me stay sane? I think I even had a romantic notion it would be OK in there with these skills, I naive statement I realise now. Allan Watts the philosopher en-likens the architecture of a prison to be very similar to that of the Buddhist monastery and says in some ways the energy of forced or voluntary retreat have reflections to be seen.
I, too, sense the gist to be life’s wonderful alchemy of enabling and receptive ingredients. Personally, I also love to imagine that the expanded human potential realized might be understood more as an unveiling or freeing of latent good awaiting discovery and expression, than the creation of possibility previously non-existent. Indeed, external resources splendidly set the stage, but the inner unfoldment was individually resonant and innate.