The greatest spiritual teacher teaches us how to see clearly and keep our hearts open in hell.
The moments of hell come when everything militates against the open heart.
Times come when we can think of hundreds of logical reasons to close our hearts.
Don't most of us do that?
Some are already closed down in their late teens.
...In contemplative prayer, we move into a different realm.
It is not the arena of merit, of reward and punishment;
it is such an utterly different world from the ground up that most religion drags along the reward/punishment system since it can understand no other.
Crime, punishment, performance and reward are the only ways we know to get people in the game.
But love flourishes only in the realm of freedom.
* Richard Rohr
I've been looking forward to the Olympics almost all summer. I have always enjoyed watching the sports that never get any airtime between Games, but even more I love the stories of the competitors, the highs and lows, boundaries and breakthroughs. So, with anticipation, I stayed up this afternoon (usually I'm dead asleep after staying up all night reading and writing) to watch the opening ceremonies tonight.
Unfortunately I share the TV with twenty other guys, most of whom couldn't care less about the Olympics in general and the opening ceremonies in particular. Instead of the torch-lighting and march of nations, we watched Hellboy.
I suppose it's just as well because the NBC station comes in with snow and a little crackle. The all-metal building that I live in blocks a lot of most channels' signals, producing a show of mostly electronic snow, but NBC is one of the worst. The Olympics will have better viewing on Telemundo. So I will be rooting for the EEU to va por el oro.
As I was lying on my bunk today I realized that I have absolutely zero responsibility here. I could lie here all day and all night, never doing anything, and nothing would happen except an empty stomach from missing meals. Even then, the state would take care of my sickness and lazily attempt to nurse me back to health.
I don't have a job to work, rent to pay, classes to attend, events to go to, or even groceries to buy. I have to create responsibilities like reading, running, and writing letters. With luck, I'll be in college classes next month.
It scares me a bit to think that this is how the state is supposedly preparing inmates for a life after prison. If you ask me, I would say that prison should be a place for people to get their act straight and ready themselves to do better when their next chance at life outside comes. The state helps a little bit but certainly stops short of helping everyone.
Last week I had a friend, Smoke, that I think got his parole and went home. He didn't have a job here and had not taken classes except the one Bible study course offered to almost anyone. I really hope he makes it, but the state did nothing to help him prepare for his release and shock of returning to the fast-paced American life and culture. If he does come back, I believe it will be partly the state that is to blame.
I set a new best distance for running during recreation - nearly five miles. If I take out the time between laps ten and eleven it took thirty-six minutes - not too shabby for a guy building back into shape.
I went outside this morning with Carlos, a friend from my last dorm and fellow soccer player, to run together at rec. We ran together when soccer games were abruptly ended due to a ball sailing into no-man's-land over the fence. Those times weren't really training but only finding something to do once the soccer action stopped. We were usually only able to fit in two or three laps before tiring or rec being called in.
This morning we decided to try for distance, as far as we could run without killing ourselves. Carlos has not been running as often as I have so I didn't expect him to keep pace the whole time. But he surprised me. He kept pace and even quickened toward the end of our target laps until we were sprinting ( well, as much as a sprint is possible after a log run) to finish.
It felt great to put so much mileage underfoot. Being able to run city streets, country roads, or park trails would be a huge improvement over these repetitive laps, but these laps give a decent high nonetheless.
Right after I was moved into this dorm I put in a request to move because the dorm itself is just plain rundown. Also, the guy who punched me in the face a few months ago was moved to this wing, which meant we would go to meals and recreation together. As a precaution, I asked the lieutenant who investigated that incident if I could be moved.
This morning, as I was walking to breakfast, I asked him when I might be moving. He told me it would be in the next couple of days; he needed to talk with the classification officer first ( the same lady that took so long with the visitation list changes.) Who knows how long this will take.
I'm hoping to be moved quickly and maybe into the dorm where a few friends from my last dorm ended up. Getting out of this overwhelmingly negative dorm will be great.
I had a good visit from my folks today. We even got extra time. What a blessing!
Recently my family went to New Mexico on vacation to visit White Sands, the Bluegrass Festival in Weed, and a few other random spots around Ruidoso and Lincoln National Forest. My mom told me about some of the trip last week, so this time it was my dad who gave me his impressions from the trip. Once again, I wished I could have been with them.
With about thirty minutes left, the guard who watches the time went out and a younger guard took his spot. I don't know if he was being nice, forgot to tell us our time was up, or was just giving us the extra time up to 5 o'clock when visitation is over. In my case, we got to hang out for about 45 minutes beyond the usual time limit. Even so, the extra time added didn't seem long enough.
Over the past few days I've gone out to recreation in the morning before the sun is too hot. I've been doing a lot of running - intervals followed by approximately 100 yard sprints. The air feels great in the morning and there's usually a nice breeze to wick away the sweat.
This morning Fifth needed someone to wear his friend's shoes out to rec to return them after being cleaned for visitation. I wore them outside, expecting to get a similar size to be able to run in. Instead I got boots that were two sizes too big. My feet were going to have a rough time today.
I didn't want to just walk around the field so I cinched up the laces as tight as I could and still had about an inch and a half in the toebox. Because the shoes were so floppy and heavy I decided to drop the hard running and just go for distance. I managed three miles before my calves were screaming for relief from the too-big boots. I guess it was kind of like weight training with all that extra mass. For the remainder of rec I juggled a soccer ball barefoot on the dry grass, which felt far better than running in clunkers.
