An advantage of moving deeper into my 22nd year of imprisonment is that it gives me a better perspective of time. I do not expect to serve three more years, or at least not much more than another three years. I’m 45 now and I expect to be home when I’m 48. By then I will have served 25 years. As a prisoner, I’ve found that time passes differently. I cherish my moments of solitude.
One thought that regularly comes to me is that my mother and my sisters have aged without me. When I began serving my term I was 23. My mother was 47, and my sisters were in their early 20s. Now my mother is collecting social security, and my sisters have nurtured families of their own. The prison rules by which we all have had to live have made me, in many ways, a stranger to my own family.
I don’t think about the family relationships I’ve lost as a consequence of my imprisonment. This journey through prison has been a continuous pursuit for me. It has been an odyssey with many battles that have required focus on the tactics I chose. My strategy has had the consequence of isolating me further from the lives of those who love me. The years I’ve spent in solitude have passed like a blink. When I consider the real events taht have taken place in the lives of my family members, on the other hand, I realize that despite the thousands of people with whom I’ve communicated through my work, in many ways I live alone.
My prison adjustment has conditioned me in ways that differ from the patterns by which most people mature. For a prisoner, life is a constant climb. I strive to create possibilities for an optimal existence. That requires that I find, induce, or position myself for opportunities that will bring meaning. This strategy has removed a measure of control from the system that confines my body, enhanced my sense of efficacy, and allowed me to find peace in solitude. I attribute my prison adjustment to the blessings I’ve received, including the treasure of my marriage to Carole.
When I reflect on how much time has passed, however, I realize that much has transpired while I’ve eked out my existence. A quarter century will have passed by the time I release from these boundaries to begin living as Carole’s husband. When that much time passes again, both Carole and I will have aged into our seventies. On account of my knowing how quickly the years can pass, I feel a sense of urgency to prepare. I have less time than most to prepare for retirement.
Because I’m constantly thinking about the challenges that await my release, I take advantage of all the time I can spend alone. Today I woke at 2:30. By 6:00 I had written four blog articles. As soon as the guard unlocked the doors in the housing unit where I sleep, I walked to the track. The sky was black and a full moon was shining. I ran 10 miles, thinking the entire time about the preparations I had to make, about the savings I wanted to build in order to ease my transition from prison. My tally extended to 815 miles over the past 89 days. I attended a TOAD meeting at 8:00. In the afternoon I wrote a letter to Bean, who was consulting on our use of the blog, and I spent the afternoon proofing a manuscript I have been ghostwriting.
Wednesday, 11 March 2009
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