Prison Journal: Day 8,346
June 16, 2010
Today I received a letter from Chris, my closest childhood friend. Chris and I grew up in Lake Forest Park and went through elementary school, junior high, and high school together. Our friendship continued after high school, but it has been on again, off again through my imprisonment. I understand why, and it made me happy to receive a letter from him that expressed his understanding as well.
My imprisonment is much more difficult on those in the real world who love me. They sometimes have misperceptions when they visualize my life. Although I try to convey that I’m filled with inner peace, that I’m grateful for the many blessings I’ve received, people outside, people like my friend Chris, have a hard time accepting that I’m completely at ease with where I am.
This phase of my imprisonment is an especially easy one for me because I know I have 90 percent of it behind me. I don’t know how much more time I’ll serve, but it doesn’t really matter anymore. I’ve done the heavy lifting, and the preparations that I made early in my term give me confidence that I’ll triumph over the obstacles that I am certain await my release.
When release does come, it will be wonderful to connect again with old friends. Since Chris and I were such good friends as children and young adults, I look forward to reliving memories with him and his wife. The funny thing about our history is that both Chris and I married women we grew up with; all four of us attended the same schools and participated in the same summer activities in our community. When my term comes to an end, we’ll all be close to 50, so clearly our lives will have changed significantly. I look forward to catching up.
Another irony is that although I’ve been in prison for decades, both Chris and his wife know much more about me than I know about them. My life is so transparent because of my writing, publishing, and Web postings that anyone can follow my journey if they want to read. My knowledge about other people, though, is kind of stuck in time—back in the 1980s. I remember Chris as being young and athletic. I cannot imagine him as a mature adult with a family of his own; that was not how I knew him. Time has moved on for him, but I don’t have a clear vision of how a quarter century changes a person.
I had the same experience with my wife. When we reconnected almost a decade ago, I told her that I wouldn’t have recognized her if I had simply run into her in the world. Carole is much more beautiful now as a woman than the pretty girl I remembered from high school.
It feels good for me to connect with childhood friends, and with people I knew before my imprisonment. It will be nice to build new friendships, too.
Ran 10 miles / 4,907 miles over 551 days
100 pushups / 64,600 pushups in 2010
Wednesday, 16 June 2010
Prison Journal: Day 8,149
December 1, 2009
My friend Steve was released from Taft Camp yesterday morning. I was in this room writing well before dawn, and I watched through the window as Steve carried his box of belongings from the housing unit toward the camp’s exit. A few days ago another friend, David, also walked out from those same doors. I know that I’ll meet new people in the days, weeks, and months ahead, but I’ll likely pass through this final month of 2009 focusing on my exercise, reading, and planning for the goals I’ll want to achieve in 2010.
2009 was a productive year. I was able to work with my friend Justin Paperny as he wrote a book about his prison experiences, and I wrote the Earning Freedom manuscript that will launch my career upon release. The act that really carried me through the year was my daily run. I made a commitment to run every day, and keeping that commitment enabled me to control a portion of every day. As a prisoner, I’ve strengthened myself by setting goals and measuring progress by working toward them every day.
Another daily habit has been writing these journal entries. Some may find the daily entries tedious, but I think it’s important to document this long journey of confinement. I hope to demonstrate for readers how deliberate adjustment plans can be the mechanism that allows for moving through challenging times. Despite the 8,149 days that I’ve served in prison, and the many friends (like Steve, David, and Justin) who have walked out of prison boundaries after serving a term of confinement, my own goals empower me to continue this long walk to freedom. In time, I know that I’ll walk out, too, and when it’s time for me to return to society, because I’ve prepared, I will emerge successfully.
This morning I ran 10 miles and followed with 300 pushups. Then I wrote letters to friends who’ve become like family to me.
[daily running log: 3,153 miles in 353 days]
Prison Journal: Day 7,947
May 13, 2009
I don’t make too many friends in prison. Throughout the decades I’ve served, I’ve conditioned myself to serve time alone, interacting with no more than one or two of my fellow prisoners on a daily basis. I find more peace in solitude, as it feels disconcerting when friends I make go home. Next week at this time, my friend Justin Paperny will return to his community near Los Angeles.
Justin was a former stockbroker at UBS who served a bit longer than a year at Taft Camp. He pleaded guilty to a single count of securities fraud, and we met soon after he arrived. Justin was assigned to the same housing unit as mine, and we spent a lot of time together. I met his wonderful mother in the visiting room, his father, his brother, and several of his close friends, including Brad Fullmer and Sam Pompeo. The past year advanced quickly, as we created a small community here.
During the time that Justin was here, we ate together most every day, and we worked at the same table in one of the unit’s quiet rooms. I introduced Justin to the therapeutic relief that comes through writing, and I worked with him as he prepared his memoir, Lessons From Prison.
Upon his release, Justin expects to launch a new career as a speaker and consultant. He aspires to help others make better decisions, and I applaud his efforts. I look forward to seeing him again upon my release, though that liberty may not come for three to four more years.
I know that he is enthusiastic for his release, and I feel happy for him. As I move through these final years of my sentence, I expect to serve my time alone, relying only on the written word and visits from my wife to keep my focus. This is the end, the final miles of my marathon, and I cannot afford to take my mind off the task at hand. That requires a total investment of my energy in preparations for release. I’m on it.
This morning I began my work at 2:40. I spent the day working on the proposal for the new book. After several hours, I completed the outline for a 105,000 word manuscript. Now I must work on the proposal itself. I enjoy this work.
I ran at 6:00 AM. With today’s 10 miles, my tally now stands at 1,347 miles over the past 152 consecutive days. I’m running home.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
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