Personal Prisons Seem Preposterous

The prisons we put ourselves in are the most painful of all. It’s possible to live in paradise and still inhabit a grimy, grueling existence every time you open your eyes. This imaginary maximum security federal corrections facility is easily the reality of the majority of the population.

I know people who are institutionalized behind bars but you can’t convince them of that. I write letters to my brother in prison and he paints vivid pictures of a world without limitations. I read the pages and imagine our positions in society are reversed. He writes as if prison just so happens to be his dwelling place to pass the time. His mind is free. He writes of only positive things. He encourages me to keep my mind free. Are you as baffled as me?

He only makes a casual, passive mention of goons and guerrillas. Somehow, in prison, they don’t seem to be a part of his everyday life. A stark contrast to anything I’ve seen on TV. He may be trying to spare me gory details. Maybe? Or perhaps his energy is set to where everyday is not a nightmare. Could it be true that when you slay your demons, they can’t haunt you ? If I were a betting woman, I’d wager this is true. Inner peace defeats bondage of all forms.

Therefore, inner turmoil supersedes even the most tranquil environments. A cottage in the woods, a vacation house off the coast, it don't matter. Regardless of where you run, you always run into yourself. Breakfast at Tiffany’s taught us that. If intrusive thoughts of shame, guilt and regret dominate your brain, then consider your life a concentration camp.

Personal prisons keep you inside on sunny days. The terms of your incarceration prevent you from deep belly laughs and genuine connections. You hate the real you because you’ve been taught to. Looking in the mirror is a mentally exhausting punishment. A quick sideways glance is the most you can give yourself before you walk out of the door most mornings.

The world around you keeps spinning and evolving without you. Before long, it seems everyone you know is growing together while your connection with them grows apart. You never feel like you belong because the agony of folks finding out your inmate number drives you mad. It seems so easy to flow from the holding cell, to jail, to prison, to the penitentiary to solitary confinement.

The cuffs just won’t quit.

One clear observation I’ve made is that those of us who are stuck in a mental prison lose track of how much time passes in the slammer. The confinement of self-doubt and survival mode make the perfect elixir for a lifetime bid. Existing as an inmate to your racing thoughts and strong opinions gets your body aged 10 years older than you should appear.

Freedom-- no matter where you land will always require the ability to meditate and command your inner voice. Recognition of that voice among the piercing shrills of 100 other voices in your head is a critical first step.

Are you able to imagine a reality in which you hear voices in your head that are not yours? Chances are you already live in that world without realizing it. Imagine that the whispers of impostor syndrome, inadequacy, self-hatred and pessimism are all chatter you can silence.

When will you be free? Are you waiting for your day in court? Are you waiting on an appeal? Or is a facility transfer what you’re standing around in line for? Have you even checked to see if the guards are watching?

It’s likely they aren’t. Chances are they are in a personal prison of their own.

Liberation is as simple as a conversation. Take time, sit with your ego, access your inner child and chat.

Doing this type of time is never a crime. Emancipation awaits on the other side.