About a month ago, against my will, I was transported to a foreign country. I was stripped of all my personal belongings and forced to don the national uniform: red trousers (elastic waist band, no pockets), red short sleeved blouse/shirt with one breast pocket (left side), orange socks and caramel colored plastic sandals. Tim Gunn's (TV's Fashion Police) eyes would roll back in his head and he would faint dead away...no doubt! Martha Stewart could not "fix" this outfit. Oh, I also have an ID bracelet with hot pink polka dots and my photo on it. Think of any Communist country, 1950's or so - the tribe in this country all look the same. Did you know that China uses capitalism to maintain its communism? Mmm...a future blog perhaps? I do not understand the language, the culture, the economic system, the mores, the hierarchy or any of the card games in this country. AND, may I add, the card games are played endlessly. As I attempt to amalgamate myself into this society, I will explain what I learn. Let's start here with a few vocabulary words:
I have watched my new currency/economic system over the past weeks and I am still confused. But then, I would bet many Americans do not understand their economic system either... that includes me! Let me give you an example. On Monday, I could exchange one piece of soft, white bread (think Wonder!) for a hard boiled egg. By Tuesday, I might be able to get two eggs plus a packet of jelly. Is this what Alan Greenspan would call "hyper-inflation"?? As you can see, I have designated myself the Silent Witness and Chronicler for this foreign country and my new tribe and I am determined to report ALL that I learn. It's 5:45AM on December 1, 2014 and I think in a previous blog, I mentioned that I miss being in/with Nature. If I didn't, it is true that I do! I hunger to feel the sand under my feet as I watch an ocean sunset. I ache to hear aspen leaves whisper at the urging of an early morning breeze. There's more but you get the idea. Losing the right to be out in Nature hurts my Spirit. Today I realized there is another layer of loss. This Jail (building) is sound proof. The freeway is less than 100 yards away and I was watching the morning traffic through a tiny slit of a window near my bunk. The "slit window" faces east. I saw an 18-wheel truck avoid an accident by locking its brakes. Smoke poured from the tires as the truck came to a stop. He missed the VW by a few feet - WHEW!! While watching this "movie", I was aware that I did NOT hear the sounds of traffic, the honking horns or the squealing tires. It was as though I was watching a silent film! Jail, it seems, is a modified sensory deprivation "tank". This awareness of my sound proof world assaulted my heart...one more freedom taken away. The luxury of sound...one that I used to take for granted! As my mind started to spiral down, I heard my son speak to me. Before I was taken into custody, he said to me... "Be strong, Dad. You can do this." YES I CAN! The lure of Nature Brings a smile to my heart. My cathedral waits. *"Rabbit rabbit rabbit" is one variant of a common British superstition which states that a person should say or repeat the word "rabbit" or "rabbits", or "white rabbits", or some combination of these elements, out loud upon waking (or first moment) on the first day of the month, because doing so will ensure good luck for the duration of that month.
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10:00 PM I lost my center this evening. I cannot find anything solid to grab onto. I realized about an hour ago that I was shivering. I am always cold. These "red suits" are simple fabric and the air which circulates feels like air conditioning. I think the physical-ness of being cold has exacerbated a lonely, scared feeling. In addition, the noise level jumped by about 60% after dinner because "the tank" got two new tribe members, who happened to know three fellas who are already here! They are so effing LOUD! My senses are being attacked!! I was sitting on my bunk, wondering if this was my life...for the rest of my life. Now, hoping I can sleep. 12/2/14 1:00 AM FINALLY drifted off around 1:00 AM. Woke at 5:00 AM for breakfast, then bac, to sleep til 11:00ish! Mmmm...seems I am joining the tribal schedule I have observed all these weeks! I'm still staving off melancholy yet beginning to feel better. The morning light and the view of Mt. Rainier thru the "slit window" always helps my mood. I thought I had worked my way through the phases of grief. If memory serves, there are five phases: denial, anger, negotiation, depression and acceptance. (I don't have reference material so if this is wrong, please forgive. The author of the scheme is Elizabeth Kubler-Ross. Google her if you want to know more.) When I was "booked", fingerprinted and photo'd, I was in full-blown DENIAL. I refused to accept the facts. I kept saying to myself "This can't be happening! Not to me!". It took a while, maybe a week but I finally "accepted" the fact that I was in jail. Then I got pissed!! Buried within denial is shame and embarrassment. When I write my memoir, I will have to include this disgraceful chapter. Sometimes I think of this piece of my history as a life NOT well lived. AND sometimes, it feels like I'm in a character-building stage of my life! (Smiley face emoticon goes here!) I hope I have enough years ahead of me to put this event so far behind me that it will seem and feel small. This experience does not define who I am any more than my Master's degree, altho' I used to think it did. In Viktor Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning, he narrates a scene from what feels like an Arthur Miller play: An upper middle class professional man appears before the Nazi authority to present his credentials: his university degrees, letters of reference and so on. The Nazi asks him, "Is this everything you have?". The man nods. The Nazi throws it all in the wastebasket and says: "Good, now you have nothing." The man whose self-esteem had always depended on the respect of others, is emotionally destroyed. I am that man...or maybe I was that man. Being a professional with degrees and the respect of others was important to me...very important, essential in fact. But Frankl goes on to write: We are never left with nothing as long as we retain the freedom to choose how we will respond. I work on that every day. When the police storm "the tank" tossing my books and letters and writing materials on the floor, I used to feel they were disrespecting me. NOW I look at it (and choose to respond)as an opportunity to read again all the "love letters" from my wife...and I smile. I will write about the next couple of "grief phases" in my next blog. I just re-read this blog and it looks like I shot off on a tangent...oooops! Try to see it as a "stream of consciousness" exercise on my part. Nobody's life is smooth and easy. Everybody has ups and downs.
That's to be expected. We may even be eager to try ourselves out, to discover how capable we really are. - Louis Bisch As of October 17, 2014, I live with 18 men who range in age from late 20's to mid 50's and they are as diverse as the population on the streets of any large city. They are extroverts for the most part; therefore, they spend their time talking...sometimes yelling and sometimes fighting. When they all talk at the same time, the sound reverberates in this concrete box...off the walls, the floor and the ceiling... giving me a headache. It is very similar to the sound you hear in an enclosed swimming pool or a basketball court. The noise starts at 8 in the morning and stops around 1 the next morning. I have been here for over a month and I am still not used to the CONSTANT NOISE!
I am the only one in here who has never been in jail before. When a new man arrives, it is not uncommon to see "high fives" and hear "Hey, man, what did you do this time?" This is a culture I did not know existed! And I don't understand it...yet. These "old friends" seem genuinely happy to see each other. They sit for hours and reminisce about "the crimes" they have committed and how they are certain they will not get "caught" next time. I am continuously amazed...and dazed by the community in which I find myself. I have heard talk about how to properly burgle both a car and a home. When it comes to transporting drugs, the advice is to put them in a box that attaches to the undercarriage of your vehicle. If you get stopped, you can say "It's not mine, anyone could have put that there." Apparently since the drugs are not inside the car, it is a reasonable assumption. One I will not ever test! This group of men are not educated in schools as we think of them yet they are infinitely creative and they have been well-schooled...of that there is no doubt. At 67 years young, I am clearly the oldest "tribe member". Some call me OG, which I think means "Old Guy". Others call me "Old School", "Pops" or "Dad". They treat me with respect, for which I am grateful, and some seek my counsel. From time to time, someone will approach me as I sit on my bunk. The question is asked? "Is the doctor in?" Sometimes this becomes a session of idle chit-chat and sometimes it's something more heart-centered. I imagine I am thought of as someone with whom they can ease their bravado...no need to impress "Pops"! There are moments when I feel like Lucy in the Peanuts cartoon strip; however, instead of receiving 25 cents for my time, I get an extra apple or orange, maybe a banana. Not knowing what the future holds for me has been a real challenge! The uncertainty has driven me to depression and despair at times. A few weeks ago, my daughter sent me three small books by a Buddhist monk named Pema Chodron. I started reading When Things Fall Apart and, as I read the first chapters, I realized I was spending my waking day of 16-18 hours sitting on my bed, thinking about the past and the future. Pema suggested that I spend some time "HERE" ...in this moment of NOW. I gave it a try and found that it is actually quite pleasant. NOW when I find myself spiraling into the past or disabled by fear about my future, I do a little mindful meditation. I cannot be "in the present" and lament the past or worry for the future at the same time! Today I am choosing...more and more...to be here and now. That's it for today. Hope you had a wonderful giving thanks day! The fighting and bickering started at breakfast, a few minutes ago. It's reminiscent of "turkey days" from my childhood. Why do I have to keep seeing this movie?
You see, food is used as a kind of gambling currency here in "the tank". During last night's card game, this morning's regular serving of bread was used to bet. We have one tribe member who repeatedly tried to "get one over" on his mates. When he loses, he makes himself small and quiet, hoping not to have to 'pay up'! On the other hand, when he wins, he grabs his "food-booty" off the breakfast tray without respecting anyone's personal space. "The tank", at the current full tenancy of 19 men, is physically and emotionally tight quarters. As he merrily snatched bread off the tray, looking like a four year old seizing candy from a ruptured pinata, he took TWO slices when he was only entitled to one! His smug demeanor...the early hour [We are startled awake with a booming voice announcing "Breakfast, Gentlemen"...one or two minutes before the trays arrive so around 5:25!]...the fact that today is Thanksgiving and we are here instead of "home" with family...all those circumstances lit the argument like a match to dry twigs! The more rational tribesmen tried to quell the row by reminding the group that we could "lose TV if this fight doesn't stop...remember there's a Seahawks game today!". It took a few minutes yet the threat of losing the TV/babysitter choked the life out of the quarrel. Whew! What a way to kick off 'Giving Thanks Day'! I like this time of day. It's probably about 6 AM now and "the tank" is sleeping. All is quiet on the western front. I know that quote but cannot remember where it comes from. Maybe it's a book title...Hemingway? Just a short month ago, I would have simply "asked the Oracle"....Googled it, ya'know? I no longer have access to Google or the internet or my iphone or MacBook Pro. Surprisingly, at this moment, I don't miss my old digital world. It's inconvenient at times but overall I feel liberated from that electronic leash. Every now and then, I will hear a sound like that of my iphone vibrating. It is amazing but no matter what I am doing, I involuntarily stop and reach for my iphone. I'm NOT exaggerating...I don't actually drool yet I feel a bit like one of Pavlov's dogs! In the hush of this early morning hour, I read, write and ponder my circumstance..."Why am I here?". I suppose that in the comfort of my own "home", I could have (should have!) asked that same question. BUT I was always too busy! I want the remainder of my life (hopefully a few more decades) to have meaning. I'm not sure what that means but, as I daily consider the question, the out-of-focus future is beginning to sharpen with details, revealing my "new path". I am both excited and terrified! What's that expression (and where is Google?)? God never gives you more than you can handle. Whatever this unknown future is, I hope I am up to the task. This pre-dawn experience gives me time to take stock of my life...warts and all. Who said, An unexamined life is an unlived life (or something like that)?? Well, I am examining! I don't always like what I see; yes, I have regrets. There are chasms next to the trail I have walked and times where I've lost my moral compass. Yet there are brilliant valleys overflowing with the most beautiful wildflowers AND snow-covered peaks glowing a soft pink as the Mt. Rainier I recall. Okay...that's it for now. I'm going to read for an hour or so before the tribe wakes - before the cacophony starts...maybe I should think of it as a symphony tho' a little out of tune. HAH! 6:00 PM Twelve hours later and all's quiet in "the tank". :) I'm not sure what happened or how it happened but the day has been cheerful. After the argument this morning, all the usual suspects returned to their bunks until lunch. It was serene all day - WOW!! I had a fantastic mindfulness meditation around 2 PM...no interruptions, no noises, no TV blaring. I have a theory about this. It might have something to do with my practice of Ho'oponopono. I'll say a bit more about this in the future. But, for now, if you're interested, consult "the Oracle"....aka Google it! A note about Turkey Day Dinner? Most of the tribe had turkey with a little gravy, yams, cranberries, mixed vegetables, a roll and pumpkin pie topped with whipped cream. I had the vegetarian tray: same as above but swap the turkey for a Garden Burger and the pumpkin pie for apricots. Really the only things missing were the scent of baking bread and that joy full sound of friends sharing a meal...and, of course, I desperately wish I was sharing today with my lovely wife. Next year, we will go for a walk along a path I know outside Port Angeles. This time of year the trail is a carpet of yellow and red maple leaves...the big leaf maples...the size of an LP record (or a dinner plate for you youngsters!). That's it for this installment. Hope you are all well and rejoicing in things just as they are. |
AuthorPatrick Michael Leonard Archives
August 2020
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