My Friend Brian's Prison "Tales From The Inside"

Here's a running blog of a good friend of mine, named Brian, who's half way thru doing 4 years in Marion Correctional Institution. He's doing time for supposedly violating priobation, in which I don't believe he did. Supposedly tested drugs in his system, however the guy is a diabetic, and certain medications he takes produced a false positive. His court appointed attorney did not show up, there was no confirmatory test done on the original sample, and the judge failed to follow sentencing guidelines. Brian is trying to fight this, and get judicial releases, etc., but so far nothing is working in his favor. I will withhold any more personal/identifying info on him until/if I get his consent. You can use one of my emails, bwanadon100(REMOVE_THIS_PART_TO_PREVENT_SPAM)@yahoo.com I'll add them as I get them, usually about 1 a month. I'll try to make this page look better in the future.

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Tales From The Inside � Episode 26

�A Word From Your Favorite Acorn�

Hello Faithful Readers, it�s been awhile �

Last Friday was my parent�s Golden Anniversary. Fifty years, people! That is huge by any standard � Wouldn�t you agree?

My family had a get-together at the homestead to commemorate the event, and since I obviously could not attend, I was asked to write something for it.

Wow, what do you say about fifty years of marriage? A thousand greeting cards have already butchered the obvious points with all their flowery sentiments. A fifty-year commitment is not a �flowery� thing. If anything, it is like a tree, a mighty oak �

� and with that thought, the ink started flowing.

Today I would like to share with you what I wrote for them. I hand picked some words and threw them together in the best way I knew how in order to represent (however ineptly), the love I have observed. It is, at the same time, I love I wish to emulate.

We have much to learn from observing any enduring love. They are wonders, everyone.

My words are only an effort to underscore that fact. I leave it to you to observe and emulate as you will.

The Love Of Trees

Don�t give us flowers, they will be wilted in two days. What me must offer each other, (what we must be bold enough to ask from each other) are the little slender saplings that will, with time and tender care, produce mighty oaks.

Let Romance have it�s roses. Give us the hope of branches touching the sky, branches enough to keep the burning sun off our backs while we are weeding Cupid�s garden.

Give us a low branch to climb up on and watch those sunsets, sure, but make it a strong one. One day when we are too old to climb, it will hold the tire swings of our children and our children�s children.

Let them grow up in cool shade. Let them frolic through piles of orange and brown leaves every Autumn �

� and one day, many winters from now �

Let the axe swings true. Let the miller�s price be fair. Let the lumber of our legacy become the home of those we leave behind.

May that hallowed home forever stand on a wooded lot of its own, with a thousand sprouting acorns every Spring.

Have we asked for too much?

Don�t give us the romance of roses, really ,,,

� just give us the love of trees.

- Brian, Friday, July 10, 2007

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Tales From The Inside � Episode 25

�Bold As Love�

Is it that time of the year already, dear reader? Time for another (and hopefully the last) Valentine�s Day edition of �Tales From The Inside�? Good, it gives me an excuse to ponder my favorite subject and to share with you the product of that pondering.

I have come to believe that our species has a fascination (no, make that �a love affair�) with fences. We build them everywhere. The biggest ones, it seems, (�Greater� even than that one in China) are the ones that are not physical. They are lines on a map, words on a page, boundaries of etiquette, custom, or law. These boundaries, more than any other type, dictate the paths we walk, the goals we seek, and the ventures we choose to embark on.

We are told that �Good fences make good neighbors�, and we believe it, but today I would like to challenge that idea. I would like everyone to consider very seriously the thought that good porches make better neighbors.

Love does not know property lines. Love is not bound by trespassing laws. Love does not yield to jurisdiction, it does not recognize boundaries, borders or embargos. Love is not subject to N.A.T.O. or U.N. restrictions, does not concede to the World Court and is uniquely exempt from the Geneva Convention.

There is no law against Loving. I�m not the first to voice this concept, but I want to voice it loud and clear for you today. Love knows no boundaries. Love is never inappropriate, and Love is never wasted.

Love is the single most uplifting and transformative force in the world and all it requires is for us to unleash it. We must have the guts to point it in a direction no one else has dared to send it, someplace dark, someplace scary, someplace forbidding. Only Love can cross the boundaries, close the distance and fill such places with warmth and light.

We must learn to be so bold. We must love boldly, recklessly, and relentlessly. We must love those whom no one else thought to love. Send love over those fences (whatever form they may take) and let it do its work. If we commit ourselves to this task, we may fid one day that we have become bold as Love, and equally boundless.

- Brian, February 14, 2009 (for valentine's Day)

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Tales from The Inside - Episode 24

�Unwanted Gifts�

O come all ye faithful readers, gather around for my Yuletide edition of �Tales From The Inside�. Grab yourself a cup of eggnog (spike it with your favorite liquor), and sit for a spell. I promise not to keep you away from your festivities for too long.

� Is it a bad tie, tube socks and tighty whities, or is it that godawful sweater Aunt soin�so made for you? Christmas just isn�t Christmas without at least one unwanted gift. Am I wrong? No, we all know what it�s like when someone dear gives us something dreadful. Today I would like to talk about the unwanted gifts that Life gives us and what we choose to do with them.

I am a firm believer in the fact that life and everything it contains is a gift, a gift from someone very dear indeed. This belief isn�t hard to hang onto when we win the lottery, when we get a raise, when we are sipping rum drinks out of coconut shells on some tropical island, or when serendipity (in one of it�s countless guises) shows up and plants a big wet kiss on our lips.

These are not the gifts I�m speaking of today. There is no need to speak of these gifts. Our heart tells us everything we need to know when we get them.

No, the gifts I want to talk about are the things we seldom think of gifts at all. The train wrecks, pink slips, prison sentences. Those gifts that wring the tears from our eyes, break our hearts, and try our souls. These are Life�s unwanted gifts. The things we would never ask for, the things we never put on our Christmas list. Am I actually going to presume to call these things �gifts�?

� You know I am �

It�s true, we might never think to ask for strength, for patience, for compassion. We might never hope that the biggest box under the tree is filled with faith, but these are the greatest kinds of gifts that can be given. They are however, gifts that require some assembly. We must first build from the pieces we are given. Sometimes those pieces come from broken hearts and shattered dreams.

When we are given the unwanted gifts of adversity, what we are really being given is the opportunity to build patience, to build compassion, to build strength, and to build faith in the fact that the giver of these gifts knows our needs better than we do.

When we approach our dark days with this firmly in our minds and hearts we realize that only the wrapping on these gifts is ugly, what lies inside is pure gold.

I want to wish everyone a wonderful holiday season, and I hope the new year brings you the perfect mix of both kinds of gifts, you deserve nothing less.

- Brian, Sunday, December 14, 2008

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Tales From The Inside � Episode 23

�Cui Ci Sono Dei Mostri�

Greetings my friends, I bid you welcome to another spine tingling episode of �Tales From The Inside� � mwah ha ha ha ha � (Cue organ music, screams, howls and lightning crashes �)

At the Petti Palace in Florence, Italy, there is a rather famous fresco. The painting depicts a map of the known world, (�known� at the time of the painting, that is). On this map, where our fine continent, (not yet discovered), should be, the artist painted the phrase, �Cui ci sono dei mostri� � �Here there be monsters�. I thought it a fitting title for the message I wish to share with you today.

'Tis the season for ghoulies and ghosties, cackling witches and ooky spookies of every known variety. Most of us love it. Even those that declare Halloween to be �evil�, are telling a scary story of their own. One in which the Devil (the king of all monsters) is fueling our fascination with his lesser minions to lead us to damnation (gimme the shimmies). Today I�d like to explore our fascination with monsters, the origins of that fascination, and hopefully shed some light on the only nefarious aspect of it that I can find.

Monsters are the embodiment of all that is wrong, ugly, twisted, evil, and malicious � Not much to love. I agree, but I contend that what we love are not the monsters themselves, but the idea that monsters are �there� (as in, �not here�), and the idea that in the end, with the aid of the crucifix, holy water, silver bullet, (or the trusty old stand by), fire, the monster is vanquished and the heroes get on with their �happily ever after�.

In ancient times, it was a common practice for priests to perform a ritual in which they would transfer all the sins of a village or city into an animal (usually a black goat). The animal was then driven out into the desert to carry with it the sins of the people. It is from this practice that we get the word �scapegoat�.

In our society monsters are our scapegoat, and every horror film, a modern re-enactment of that ancient ritual. The problem is that that ritual was bullcrap then, as it is bullcrap today. Of course it is relatively harmless bullcrap. Most of us are not really worried about monsters here, there or otherwise, but there is a problem with those who are looking for the monsters �out there�, because their hunt distracts them from the real monsters within.

We must realize that the true battleground between good and evil is the mind and heart of every individual. It is not humans wearing monster masks that should concern us. It is monsters wearing human masks. When we are driven by ignorance, fear and hatred to look for the monsters �out there�, we are lucky only when we fail, for it is when we succeed that we get the madness of the inquisition, the horror of the Salem witchcraft trials. Where were the monsters then? They existed only in the hearts of the accusers.

It is easy to distract ourselves from the work of dealing with real problems by focusing our energy on ridding the world of imaginary ones. It is easy, but we gain nothing by it, and sometimes in the attempt, we bring genuine evil into the world.

The only evil we are equipped to fight, is the evil within our own hearts. That process begins only when we take a good hard look in the mirror, stare intently at our reflection, and say with conviction, �Here there be monsters�.

Happy Halloween everybody, I love you all!

- Brian, on or about Friday, October 17th, 2008

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Tales From The Inside � Episode 22

� � till the whole world is blind�

Greetings my patient �Tale� chasers. Are you ready for another thought provoking (and overdue) episode of �Tales From The Inside�? I have struggled quite a bit with today�s topic. I have never used my �Tales� as a platform to argue politics or to comment on the state of our judicial system (though I am currently caught in it�s teeth). I have no intention of breaking away from that today - though this episode may straddle the line. I believe the concepts addressed herein are as important to you as individuals, as they are to society as a whole. I hope you agree.

We are a people that demand justice. Even when we are not involved in a situation, we are nonetheless outraged when we see someone �getting away with murder�. I do not wish to devalue this tendency. That intuitive sense of �Just� and �Unjust� are (in my view), fingerprints left on our soul by our creator. They tell us that there is an objective reality, a real �Right� and �Wrong� that exist independent of subjective minds.

Today I want to discuss the ways in which we act on those, God given, senses. I sit here in the dumping grounds of the Department of Rehabilitation and Corrections, and I have to tell you, there is very little of either going on. I do see some of the proverbial �Typhoid Marys� that have been, (quite rightly), quarantined from a society they would otherwise ravage, but mostly I am surrounded by the slightly damaged, the walking wounded, people condemned to live in a leper colony for having a bad case of acne.

These people are not being healed. They are not being �rehabilitated�. They are being damaged even further. The truth is, those that do improve in this place, do so in spite of this place, not because of it.

In addressing the subject of �evil� in the past, I have likened it to a highly communicable disease or virus. We experience pain when evil is done to us by another. We react to that pain by lashing out at others (doing evil to them), which in turn, causes them pain and continues the cycle. This is the nature of evil. This is how it grows and spreads.

When, in our humanity, we seek �justice� for the evil inflicted on us without seeking the healing of ourselves and those that inflicted the pain, it is not true justice we are seeking, but vengeance or a state sanctioned epidemic of evil.

Causing suffering to those that have made us suffer is only a recipe for more suffering. It is an �Eye for an Eye� mentality that can only result in the whole world being blinded. Conversely, showing those that have done wrong the result of their actions, giving them a chance to truly atone and offering them forgiveness are healing and transformative acts. They may not satisfy our thirst for vengeance, but they do make for a better world.

If we truly do seek a better world, we must first change our mindset. We must consciously set aside our hunger for vengeance, our darker nature. We must ignore the rhetoric of politicians and the sensationalism of the media. We must look closely at people (not just statistics on a page), then we must step back and look at the big picture. When we do so it becomes clear to us in the depths our soul (where God left those fingerprints) that we cannot be satisfied with vengeance in the name of justice. We cannot be satisfied with retribution when atonement, healing and forgiveness are viable options.

Today I challenge you to challenge the established mindset and dark side of yourself. Consider the possibility of something better. Foster a new perspective in your own mind and heart, and when it is strong enough to stand on it�s own, put it into practice as you deal with others in your daily life. If you are feeling especially bold, contact those responsible for making our laws and overseeing our judicial system. Let them know that we demand something better than �an eye for an eye�. We must demand it while we can still see the path to a better world.

- Brian, Wednesday, September 3rd, 2008

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Tales From The Inside - Episode 21

�In Defense Of The Improper Noun�

Hello, happy readers. Welcome to another bootleg broadcast of �Tales From The Inside�. I�m so glad you tuned in!

I try, as a rule, to avoid controversial subjects when writing my �Tales� for you. I try to stick to basic, universal truths we can all agree on. Well � I�m about to blow all that to Hell and back, so bear with me, and try to enjoy the ride.

One of the first �Words of Wisdom� that was passed on to me when I arrived at Marion Correctional Institution was that �If I wasn�t racist coming in, I will be by the time I leave�. I wasn�t convinced of that at the time, and now, halfway through my four year stay, I can say that this magical transformation from �Brian� to �Bigot� has not yet occurred. I don�t believe in using the word �never�, but I�m going to go out on a limb and say that odds are, that transformation will not occur.

I live, eat, work and sleep among blacks, whites, Hispanics, Jews, Christians, Muslims, and Wiccans. Do I hate any of �them�? Do I dislike any of �them�? Do I have any feeling at all about any of �them�? The answer is a resounding �NO�. I have made it a personal rule to have no emotional response whatsoever to any improper noun.

(For those of you that hate grammar as much as I do: �Osama bin Laden� is a proper noun. �Arab� and �Muslim� are improper nouns. �Pat Robertson�, is a proper noun. �White� and �Christian� are improper nouns � Now that we have that cleared up, allow me to continue �)

I like my rule. I like it because it strips labels of all their power. It cancels out every conditioned response our media, culture, and upbringing have attached to those labels. Ah, but the mind demands a response. Conditioned or otherwise, (have you ever known it not to?). When this occurs, my rule leaves me with no choice but to consider the individual, the �proper noun�.

Once you have denied yourself the indulgence of hating an improper noun, you will find it difficult to hate an individual. You may not like certain aspects of that individual�s character, or you may not approve of the things they do or have done. You may not be comfortable with certain cultural traits, nor familiar with the vocabulary they use to express themselves, but in general you will find that the only things in their composition worth hating are things we will find, (with little effort), within our own race, religion, or culture.

Watch any episode of Jerry Springer, (just don�t do it often), and you will see �ghetto trash� and �trailer park trash� proudly displaying what makes them �trashy�. Watch any of the news gossip shows, and you will see wealthier, and (perhaps) better bred �trash� in Hollywood, Washington, and Wall Street, but you will see that the things that make them �trashy� are all the same. Color, culture, and creed are not the issues.

If we must hate, let us leave the improper nouns alone. I can guarantee that an improper noun never hurt you. Individuals, (no doubt), have, but consider that they did so by acting on character traits that we see everywhere, even in ourselves.

Hatred, intolerance, greed, envy, selfishness, pride, lust � Oh, screw it, you make up your own list of things that make this world and ugly place, and, if we must call for a �final solution�, let us search our own hearts for those things and pile them high in the ovens.

Trust me, when I say, they make better kindling than any improper noun, or individual, for that matter.

- Brian, Thursday July 12, 2008

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Wednesday, June 11, 2008 Tales From The Inside � Episode 20 Tales From The Inside � Episode 20 "What of a Where, of a Were, of a When?"

Salutations, dear readers, and greetings from the Gulag. This week I overheard one inmate say to another that "Nobody on the outside could possibly relate to life on the inside". That statement puzzled me. It denies the validity of what I attempt to do every time I put pen to paper and mail off another episode of "Tales" to you. I think I have to disagree with my fellow inmate on this point. Thomas Wolfe opened his novel "Look Homeward Angel" with the question, "Which of us is not forever prison pent?". The fact that my prison is literal does not negate the reality of yours. The truths that give me freedom within this cage can give you freedom without. In this hope, I write to you.

In the opening pages of Milton's "Paradise Lost", Lucifer rises up to rally his legion of (newly) fallen angels and to give them a sense of purpose after their defeat and exile from Heaven. He boldly declares, "Thou, profoundest Hell, receive thy new professor, and a mind not to be changed by time or place, for the mind is a place in itself and can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven."

I walked into this place and this experience with that quote firmly in my mind, determined that I would not foster a state of mind that would stoke the flames around me, but rather, I would find what peace there was to find and build from it what I could.

Are we all truly "Forever prison pent"? No, we don't have to be. "Prison", is living in the pain or longing for the joy of yesterday. "Prison", is cursing every moment that separates you from an imagined tomorrow. "Prison", is wishing that the moment that you are presently in were somehow different, wishing that you were someplace else, were doing something different, that you had something more. "Freedom", on the other hand, is living in the moment that you are in. It is about experiencing this moment in it's fullest depth, drawing from it everything you can and giving it your all.

Freedom is not about getting away from where you are. Freedom is about fully being where you are, fully doing what you are doing, fully wanting what you've got. Freedom does not come from "What", from "Where", from "Were", or from "When". Freedom only comes from "How". How you love and respect your place in this moment that you have been given.

Today I ask you to put down the bellows, to quit stoking the flames of your private Hell, quit forging new links in the chains that bind you in your personal prison. Forget about what you once had. Forget about what you think tomorrow might hold. Forget the word "Want" even exists. Just look around you with your eyes wide open. Reach your hand out to the sunlight slanting through the iron bars and be free.

Note: I quoted from two great literary works, both of which I highly recommend, they are pure poetry. The title of this episode was inspired by one of my favorite E. E. Cummings poems, "What if a Much of a Which, of a Wind". Read it! Love it!

- Brian , Sunday, June 8th, 2008

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Tuesday, April 29, 2008 Tales From The Inside - Episode 19 Tales From The Inside � Episode 19 "Mr. Bright Side"

Welcome, my dear readers, to the 19th episode of "Tales From The Inside". It's been hard to believe that I have been posting on this Blog for over 2 years now, even harder to believe that 22 months of that time have been spent in captivity.

I was quick to notice, (and point out), in the very first episode, that this situation has provided for me a unique pulpit from which to preach. It robs you, my readers, of the temptation to say " that's easy for him to say � ". There is nothing positive that is "easy to say" from these dark halls. When I ask you to "Look on the bright side", I'm not saying it while lounging on a beach with a Corona in my hand, but I do invite you, again and again, to look on the bright side.

Today I wish to convey to you the importance of Looking for the bright side, the value of being able to see the good in the darkest of times.

I live and eat, shower and sleep among murderers, rapists and child molesters. I am under the control of the masochistic prison guards and heartless bureaucrats. We do not dine on steak, there is no cable T.V., no tennis courts. There are roaches in the kitchen, rats in "the hole", and very often blood on the tiles. That being said, I will tell you that I see and experience concern, compassion, and true generosity daily. I see those with little share with those that have nothing. I have seen hands that have known only violence, create things of beauty out of things that you and I would carelessly discard.

T.S. Elliot told us that he could show us "Fear in a handful of dust". Today I will tell you that I see hope, even in those that wallow in that dust.

I say all of this, not to glorify my surroundings or my comrades in captivity, nor am I attempting to pat myself on the back for being able to see the gems amidst the refuse. I believe that one of the greatest lessons we can learn during the dark times of our lives is how to see in the dark, how to spot the pearls amidst the swine, how to feel the sunlight through the clouds.

When we have trained our minds and hearts to do this, when it has become second nature to do so, how much more will we appreciate the bright and sunny days of our lives? Eyes that have learned to see in the dark are dazzled by the light. This is what I hope for myself, this is what I wish for you.

Kalil Gibran, wrote in his work "The Prophet", that "Sorrow quarries the heart so that it may be filled more deeply with Joy". Consider the wisdom of these words. Look on the bright side. Learn to find "the bright" in the darkest gloom and you will know true awe and wonder when you stand in the brightness of a new day. That is a gift I would give to you. It is one that you should seek for yourself.

- Brian , Sunday, April 26th, 20008

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Tuesday, April 08, 2008 Tales From The Inside � Episode 18 Tales From The Inside � Episode 18 "The Gospel According To John and Paul"

Well, My friends, Spring has sprung. I wish that I could tell you that I have been likewise sprung, but as yet, that has not happened.

John and Paul (the Beatles, not the Apostles) once said, "Little darling, it�s been a long, cold, lonely winter �". I must agree, but winter always ends, spring always comes, summer always follows. The nights get shorter, the days get longer, and the sun shares with us all, its warmth and light once more.

This is not a difficult concept for us to wrap our minds around, nor does it require a great deal of faith for us to believe. If this is such an easy concept, why is it that our Faith tends to falter so during the dark and lonely nights of the soul? Why should it falter at all when we know that the Joy and splendor of Life will eventually return?

Today I would like you all to consider the value of that "Dark and lonely night of the soul", that "Winter of discontent". Life and our innermost self conspire ceaselessly to make us learn, to make us grow, the make us become the very image of our potential, our perfect self. The tools that they use for this purpose are tragedy, hardship and Love. I dedicated my last episode to the subject of "Love". I�d like to dedicate this one to the other department of Life�s Finishing School.

A much younger "me" once wrote that "Pain is the greatest gift God can give a willing soul because it makes a black and white decision out of a world of grey indifference, we either give in, or Shine On". The "incarcerated me" agrees whole-heartedly with the "High School me" in this matter.

If we choose to "Shine On", pain and suffering, hardship and tragedy become transformative. They seek out our weaknesses and give us an opportunity to strengthen those aspects of our self. They shine a light into the dark corners of our soul (where dust bunnies propagate and creepy things crawl) and give us the chance to clean ourselves up.

Though we naturally count the seconds till the dark and dreary seasons of our life end, we must be "willing souls" while they are upon us. We must seek out the opportunities that Life is providing for our growth and our perfection. It is only when we do this that pain becomes "God�s greatest Gift".

Spring will return, but if we approach our winters with the correct attitude, we can greet the Sun with a purity of sight and a depth of appreciation we never thought possible. You deserve no less.

"Here comes the sun, here comes the sun and I say it�s alright �"

- Brian , Sunday, April 6, 2008
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Tuesday, February 12, 2008 Tales From The Inside - Episode 17 Tales From The Inside - Episode 17 " � and now abideth � "

Hello Happy Readers! It's that time of year. Once again the greeting card companies are pushing their mediocre poetry. The confectioners are pushing their sweet treats, and the rose bushes the world over are being stripped of their reproductive parts so that they may be sold to us by the dozen � with the promise that (if we buy), a certain overweight flying infant will deliver a dart to our dear one's derriere.

Well, lions will prowl, snakes will slither, and capitalists will capitalize on our sentiments (be they sincere or self-serving). Let them do their thing. Today I will try to do mine.

Now, don't get me wrong, I love Valentine's Day, and "Romance" � I'm a poet for Godsake! I keep a couple of Cupid's arrows in my pencilbox at all times. Today, however, I want us to remember what Love's heart looks like, its essence, without all the frills and frosting.

Love can be defined as "The act of seeking the physical, psychological, and spiritual growth and well-being of one's self or another." Those words in and of themselves, may seem cold and clinical, but I believe that if we look harder they may form a window through which we may see the meaning of life. Love lifts up what gravity would pull down. Love binds together that which entropy would unravel. Love heals the wounds that would otherwise destroy us. Love is the heart of God, � and we? We are the vessels (of varying quality) through which that force may flow, through which it can affect the world.

Those of you who know me well, know that Faith is the framework from which my life has been built. Hope is (and has been) essential to both my sanity and survival, and though my time spent in captivity has been a nineteen month vacation from all thoughts and hopes of romantic love, I have had plenty of opportunities to reflect on (and to be sustained by) Love's true nature. Another prison inmate once wrote " � and now abideth Faith, Hope, and Love, these three, but the greatest of these is Love � ". I concur.

On this holiday dedicated to Love, I'd like to push my way past all of the peddlers (hawking their petty trinkets) and leave you with a Valentine of my own to pass on.

It is easy to tip our leaky watering can on a beautifully tended garden (that's hardly work at all). It is quite a different thing to bring life to a desert wasteland. Love is the water of life and we are the irrigation system through which the wasteland can be turned into a paradise. It is to this end that we must strive. Love will find a way, if we let it.

- Brian , Tuesday, February 5th, 2008

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Wednesday, December 19, 2007 Tales From The Inside � Episode 16 - �No Room In Our Inn�

The day after Thanksgiving my Aunt and Uncle drove down with my parents to visit me. During our visit, our conversation drifted (as it often does with me) to the subject of "Faith". My Aunt made a statement that day that was the seed from which today's episode grew. She said, "I often wonder why God does not work in the same profoundly conspicuous ways that He did in the days of the Bible." I spent some time pondering this question and I would like to share with you today the product of my pondering.

We live in a world of implied order and self imposed conformity. We like to believe that there is a "normal, that there is a "status quo". Society tells us, "This is the way things are". It builds a box out of laws and rules, manners and etiquette, rituals, traditions and taboos, and when the construction is complete, we race to climb inside. We stick out our tongues, not in defiance, but to lick the back of the label we then freely apply to our own foreheads. We don't just think inside a box, we live inside a box.

I suppose that this is great for some. It eliminates the fear of the unknown, the unexpected, but I'm going to tell you right now, friends, the best things in life are just that, unknown and unexpected. If we lack miracles in the world today it's because we have left no room for them in our box.

Life is raw, it's wild, it's beautiful and unpredictable. Every given situation is made up of an infinite number of variables which lead to an infinite number of possible outcomes. The unknown variable is God's playground and it is the place where miracles grow if we let them, if we do not sow the ground with the salt of our doubt and negativity, if we choose to lose our illusions of control, if we do not attempt to hammer every variable into the mold of our limited imagination.

"Every time a bell rings an angel gets his wings", a cute and memorable quote from a Christmas Classic, but I say that every time someone says "impossible", "never", "can't", "won't", or worst of all, "yeah, but �", an angel falls screaming to the ground with two bloody stumps protruding from his back � not exactly cute, but I hope it is an image that sticks with you.

I seem to recall a story I once heard about a miracle that took place in a stable because there was no room in the inn. (Maybe you've heard this one too.) I'm afraid that today, even our stables are full of squatters and freeloaders. People who have told us what "is" and "isn't", what "can" and "cannot be". Today I propose that we run them out. I say we make room in our inn. I say we call in the maids, turn down all of the beds, and leave a mint on every pillow because I, for one, could sure use a miracle. Couldn't you?

Merry Christmas everyone and Happy New Year. I love you all!

- Brian , Sunday, December 16th, 2007

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Wednesday, September 26, 2007 Tales From The Inside � Episode 15 Tales From The Inside � Episode 15 " > This"

Before I begin this week's "Tales", I would like to express that, for a man like myself, there are few things more valuable than a fist shaking in righteous indignation or a tear falling in heartfelt sorrow. Therefore, the emotions expressed by you, my readers, in response to my recent disappointments have touched me deeply and profoundly. I thank you with all of my heart �

�that being said �

Things don't always go as planned. Lets face it, friends, we all get hit (occasionally bombarded), with the brown stuff. The whirring blades of the cosmic fan distribute it quite evenly, but sometimes it starts to feel than we can handle. It is at these times that I like to break the mind numbing complexity of life's trigonometry down into the simple arithmetic of elementary school.

When the ankle-deep sewage that we all trudge through turns into a deluge of dung, I suggest that you do what I do. Stop and ask yourself, "Am I less than, greater than, or equal to this problem?" I already know the answer to that question, even if you don't.

I sit here in my 6' X 10' box, and everytime I fill my lungs with air I hear stones break and bars bend. I am bigger than this place. I am greater than this experience and I know that whatever you may be dealing with in your life, whatever your problems may be, You are greater than they are. Stand strong, and laugh when the teeth that are gnawing on you shatter.

Things can get hard sometimes, my friends. Sometimes life requires more of you than you ever anticipated it could, but I assure you, there is more to you than you will ever know.

Remember this, and be strong.

- Brian , Saturday, September 22,, 2007

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Wednesday, September 05, 2007

Tales From The Inside - Episode 14

Tales From The Inside � Episode 14

"Invariably a Vertebrate"

I love all of my readers! It's not a hard thing to do. You Gen X'ers, Y'ers, and Z'ers, and yes, even you Boomers. You, who cut your teeth on "School House Rock" and "After School Specials". Those who had their fill of Dr. Phil and Oprah. Those who have sought your inner child, only to discover that he or she is there and indeed, warm and fuzzy, filled with Chicken Soup and duly Embraced by the Light.

I love you because you have heart. I know, because I can see it right there on your sleeve.

Please do not read sarcasm into my words. I really do love you all, and I really do believe that we have the potential to be the finest generations this world has ever known. Unfortunately "Potential" is not the same as "actual", and this is the reason for my words today.

I see (first and foremost within myself) a deficiency, a truly perplexing deficiency that robs us of our potential, that denies us the glory that I firmly believe is our destiny. The deficiency of which I speak is simply this, for all of our heart, we have no backbone.

I know how it goes. We need a break from our meaningless jobs and our vanilla lives. So we pile into the theater to catch the latest "semi-historic" epic. Whatever the "Where" and "When" of the story, by the end we are blue faced, donning kilts and shouting "Freedom!" at the top of our lungs. We are shoulder to shoulder with 299 of our Spartan brothers, or we are making one last stand against the occupants of those 1000 ships (that were launched by one face). Whatever the story, we walk out of the theater feeling ten feet tall, feeling like we found something we were missing.

The fact is, our great big hearts rise in us, they resonate to the same frequency as that which we see on the screen. Our hearts will thrill to it because our hearts are heroic hearts.

I fear that what we are doing in that theater, in those seats with our Milk Duds and our Extra Butter Popcorn is nothing more than mental masturbation.

Our hearts, (our heroic hearts) long for the opportunity to be heroic, but in order to truly satisfy it, we first must grow a backbone. We must stop drifting on the currents of our gray, jellyfish existence. We must stand, and then, (when we have mastered that little trick), we must make a stand. The opportunities are all around us. Did "Braveheart" speak to you? Scotland is a lost cause, but there are six counties in Northern Ireland that could use some heroes. Did "Hotel Rwanda" or "Blood Diamond" move you? The entire continent of Africa is screaming for heroes, but allow me to make it easy for you. You really don't have to go that far to satisfy the urge, to feed that heroic heart and prove yourself a vertebrate.

There is plenty of evil and corruption all around you, from the Playground to the Pentagon, from the treehouse to the courthouse, to the Whitehouse. Victims abound and the world needs heroes just as much as you need to be heroic (probably more).

I have written (much and often) about hope. Today, my greatest hope is that in this world of darkness and despair, invariably, vertebrates will arise. In the end, it doesn't take a sword or a shield, a kilt or a claymore to be a hero. All it really takes is a heart and a backbone. We have plenty of one, lets grow the other.

- Brian , Monday, September 3, 20007 (Labor Day)

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Wednesday, July 25, 2007 Tales From The Inside � Episode 13 Tales From The Inside � Episode 13 "The Delicate Art Of Pruning A Human"

Greetings, my students of Kamikaze Karma. Welcome to another fun-filled episode of "Tales From The Inside".

In Episode 1, I spoke of the need to grow wherever we are planted, be it in the lush and fertile soil of a garden, or the broken asphalt of an old abandoned lot.

In Episode 8, I spoke of doing good, of "spreading seeds", and in doing so, giving "flowers to the world". In keeping with my recurring horticultural theme, I bring you this message.

This week I am toying with the idea that the whirling blades of Life's rototiller, those blades that cut us, wound us, and make us bleed, can also (when carefully handled), be the blades that cut away the worn out and unwanted parts of ourselves. The parts that drain away our energy and prevent us from flowering, from bearing fruit, and from spreading seeds.

This week I want to explore the notion that the things that hurt us, hurt us because they are striking our soft parts, these parts still pliant and malleable enough to alter without breaking.

I assert (and with no small degree of conviction), that when we embrace our pain properly: When we refuse to pass our suffering on to others. When we resist the urge to insulate ourselves in self pity, it is then that we point those razor sharp blades expertly inward and that the healthy act of pruning can begin.

I do not bring this to you as an untested hypothesis, but rather as a well observed phenomena in this strange laboratory in which I find myself. The more that I achieve acceptance of "What I got", the more I discover that this experience has reached and brought healing to areas of my life that I long considered inaccessible: Wounds too old and deep to even think about reaching. Every day I am discovering more of those twisted, thorny, lifesucking vines cut away, and with that, realization the usefulness of this experience becomes undeniable.

So, my faithful readers, I challenge you to be bold, be daring, give the delicate art of human pruning a try. I have faith in your ability.

Come on, let me year you say "Bonsai!", I know you want to.

- Brian , Sunday, July 22, 2007 <

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Monday, July 16, 2007 Tales From The Inside � Episode 12 Tales From The Inside � Episode 12 "Letters From Purgatory"

I have to respect Dante, not just for his visions of Paradise and Perdition (though they are incredible), I have to respect Dante because he managed to devote a third of his _Divine Comedy_ to Purgatory.

I suppose that inventing the atmosphere of Purgatory is far easier than reporting on it's daily existence.

If this place was as horrifying as the movies and media might lead you to believe, I would have plenty to write about. Regaining my life outside these walls would, likewise, get the ink aflowin'. Heaven and Hell make good writing material. Purgatory, not so much � �but then I wonder, how many of you out there see your life, right now as a purgatorial existence? How many times have I viewed my life outside these walls as such?

Maybe this isn't the stuff of literary genius, but this is the stuff of life. Looking back on the past with fond memories, looking forward to the possibility of some better future, and the daily struggle with the grey of today. This is the shared experience of humanity. The basic truths of our experiences are the same, though the set and setting be ever so different.

I will make it through this phase of my life, sooner or later (the verdict is still out on that one). And you will make it past whatever stretch of road you are struggling along. I only hope that occasionally I can point out some hidden beauty on this (sometimes) less than scenic route.

- Brian , Sunday, July 8, 2007
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Tuesday, June 12, 2007 Tales From The Inside - Episode 11 Tales From The Inside - Episode 11 "What Do You Want On Your Tombstone?"

Hello once again loyal readers. Please forgive me for my long absence. I'm afraid I lost my voice for a while. It's not hard to do when someone is standing on your throat (metaphorically speaking of course). You can however trust in this one fact. If I am not writing, it is because I am struggling to live by the words that I have already written to you.

It is nearly impossible for me to write when I am disheartened and soul weary. My inability to write only makes this condition worse and so it becomes the vicious cycle that has kept me silent for months now. That cycle ended today and it's end began with a question.

The dictionary defines the word "Downtrodden" as "Oppressed; tyrannized", an apt description for my recent state of being. It is however, a description that I find nauseating. So I asked myself a question. I asked, "What single word would I choose to be defined by? If I could have but one word chiseled on my tombstone, what would it be?" I found an answer to that question, and in doing so, I found the motivation to make myself resemble the word that I have chosen. I tossed aside "Downtrodden" and embraced "Indomitable" which means "Impossible to overcome; unconquerable."

Today I would like you all to consider what word defines you in your present state of being. Consider what word you would like to be defined by. Consider the contrast between the two, then imagine how you would behave, the things you would say, the things that you would do if you were the definition of that desired word. Do these things, then boldly begin to make the changes necessary to become that person.

This may seem like a petty exercise, but I assure you that I would not waste your time or my ink on anything that is petty. I believe that this is something that can be powerfully transformative. It is a gift that I sincerely wish you to have.

So, as the sun beats down and a tumbleweed blows by, this indomitable soul directs his gunslinger gaze in your direction., smiles slyly and asks once more, "What do you want on your tombstone?" - Brian , Sunday, June 9, 2007

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Wednesday, April 04, 2007 Tales From The Inside -- Episode 10 Tales From The Inside -- Episode 10 "Holy Crap, I'm Alive!"

Every morning, for my first two months in captivity, I woke up with the same thought on my mind. Every day, before I even opened my eyes, I thought to myself, "Holy Crap, I'm in prison!" The shock of finding yourself in the harsh and ugly environment of prison after a life of freedom is a shock that does not pass quickly or easily.

It does, however, pass. Eventually your unconscious mind gets with the program. You fall asleep, dream prison dreams, and wake up the next day without that harsh contrast. If you are a person of thought and of feeling the passing of this daily shock is a sad thing. It lets you know that the place that surrounds you has seeped in and violated that most sacred place, the nocturnal kingdom of dreams.

Today is the first day of April. I sit here waiting. Knowing that in the next few weeks I may be free once more. Perhaps it is this knowledge, maybe it was something else entirely, but for some reason I woke up this morning with that old familiar thought, "Holy Crap, I'm in prison!" Ever since I've been thinking about how wonderful it will be to wake up in my own bed and think "Holy Crap, I'm free!" I've been thinking about how fresh and new and beautiful life will be for me and how hard I will try to help others see the world with my eyes.

I do not wish this experience on any of you, but I do wish for you all to have within you the contrast that I have gained from it. I wish that you will learn to frame each beautiful moment in the knowledge that that moment could have been an ugly one and thankfulness that it was not.

I wish for you to understand that every breath you are given is Life's way of saying "I love you", and understanding this. I want every exhale to be a prayer of thanks for being given one more moment of life.

Do this, and you might just find yourself waking every morning with the thought "Holy Crap, I'm Alive!" It's not a bad way to greet the day.

- Brian , Sunday, April 1st, 2007
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Saturday, March 10, 2007 TALES FROM THE INSIDE - EPISODE 9 Tales From The Inside � Episode 9 "Three Hots and a Cot"

Though I do my best to maintain a positive attitude in here, I must admit that occasionally my mind rebels and tries it's hardest to throw a pity party for itself. When I find myself in that situation. I put forth a conscious effort to forget about my troubles and what I don't have. Instead I try to think of those who have less and whose troubles are greater than mine. I think of the poor, the homeless, the starving, the sick and the dying. I think of all the people in far distant countries and I think of those suffering in the streets of our own cities.

To those people, this place would feel like a five-star hotel. Indeed, there are people here that are "regulars". These people are regulars, not because they are habitual criminals, but rather, because they can get "three hots and a cot". (Or, "three hot meals and a bed" for those of you lacking a prison phrase book). Yes, when you are cold and hungry, you will trade freedom for such things. It is sad, but there are worse things.

I battle pity parties enough in here. Thinking of the suffering people of this world has become habitual. I pray that this habit will not be lost when I leave here.

I know that losing that habit would be so easy to do. When you have plenty, it is difficult not to forget those who have little. It is easy to judge, generalize and stereotype. I have done these things myself. There is no excuse for this careless disregard. There is, however, a cure.

There is a surplus of suffering in this world and wherever there is suffering, there is an opportunity for someone to relieve it: to feed, to nurture, to teach, to heal. If you have something to lose, be it time, money, food, energy, you have more than many people have. Give it, and be thankful that you have something to give. You won't just be helping others, you will be helping yourself. You will gain a new appreciation for your life and everything in it. Trust me when I say that the world is a beautiful place when you can greet it with gratitude each day.

- Brian - Wednesday, March 7, 2007
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Thursday, February 22, 2007 Tales From The Inside 8 - "Flowers To The World"

Tales From The Inside � Episode 8 "Flowers To The World"

Hello happy readers, did you miss me? I took a much needed vacation from my pen. I can't say enough about the charm of written correspondence, but two hundred letters in seven months is a lot of writing, even for me. I needed a break. So I took one. I have returned now to send you all my (slightly belated) Valentine's Day message. I hope you enjoy.

In the very first episode of "Tales", I compared my life outside these walls to a lovingly tended garden and this place to an old abandoned lot. I stated that since I have been "planted" here, I will grow here and I vowed to spread as many seeds as I can while I am here.

I was reminded of those words on this cold and lonely Valentine's Day (I don't mean "cold and lonely" in the bleeding heart poet sense, but rather in the "it's below zero outside and I'm sitting here alone in a prison cell", sense). I was thinking to myself "This is the worst Valentine's Day I've ever had", in spite of the formidable competition other years have provided. No love, No romance, and certainly no one to give flowers to.

It was just about then that I received a pass to go to the chapel. It turns out that I had been invited to attend a graduation ceremony for the Adult Literacy Class that I had tutored. Apparently, some of the students asked if I would be permitted to attend. The instructor, thinking it a good idea, issued me a pass.

While I sat in the chapel watching the students I had tutored being honored for their achievement, a thought occurred to me. I realized that in spite of all the pain, heartache, and loneliness of this experience, I have managed to honor my vow. I have planted seeds.

Sitting there on this cold and lonely Valentine's Day I saw that some of those seeds had taken root. Some had grown, and a few had even flowered.

Life doesn't always give us flowers. Sometimes it doesn't even give us the opportunity to give flowers to the ones we love the most, but wherever you are and whatever your circumstances you may find yourself in, there is always an opportunity to plant seeds. Those seeds may not grow. If they do, you may never see the fruit of your labor, but you can be assured of one thing. When you plant seeds you give flowers to the world. This may only be a small consolation, but when times are tough, a small consolation is sometimes all you get.

- Brian, Friday, February 16, 20007

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Saturday, January 20, 2007 Tales From The Inside � Episode 7 Tales From The Inside � Episode 7 "Where Do You Live?"

Something happened this morning that was a clear indication that I have been here too long. A guy sat down next to me to eat his breakfast. After a moment or two he looked over and asked, "So, where do you live?" Without thinking, I said "H". He looked at me like I was nuts. I was horrified by what had just come out of my mouth. I quickly added, "Oh, you mean, where am I from?"

No, I do not live in H-Block. I live in Lakewood, Ohio. I work at the . I drink at the . I am an artist, a poet, I love to read, I love to write. I have family and friends who love me. I own clothes that are not blue. I have a first name, it is "Brian" and the number "510-" in no way, shape or form identifies me anyplace outside of these walls. I am me, and this is not my home.

It is too easy to lose your identity in here. I hear my first name spoken once a week, if I am lucky. I am "Inmate #510" to the guards and the staff. In here you don't just feel like a number, you are just a number, easily defined, easily dismissed. You have to fight against the depersonalization. You need to be vigilant or you will find yourself slipping up and making mistakes like I made this morning. Not just misspoken words, but mistakes in attitude, mistakes in how you view yourself.

Guess what, faithful reader, you need to be just as careful out there. Others will define you by things just as meaningless as my inmate number. They will define you by your job, the way you dress, the color of your skin, or by the way you choose to seek God. It is your responsibility to not allow yourself to be labeled, packaged, and filed away so easily. More than that, you must not begin to define yourself by such things. Don't allow others to define you. Force them to describe you. When someone asks you one of those questions, (the "outside" version of "what is your inmate number?"), don't give them the easy answer that they are fishing for. Give them an answer that means something. It will give them something to think about, but more than that, it will give you back a piece of yourself.

So, the next time someone asks "What do you do?", tell them "I sing in the shower". Then smile and walk away. If they ask you "Where do you live?", tell them, "I live in my dreams".

- Brian , Wednesday, January 17, 2007

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Thursday, January 11, 2007 Tales From The Inside - Episode 6 Tales From The Inside - Episode 6 "A Little Home Improvement"

I got a new cellmate this week. (My third since I have been here.) As one might imagine, each new cellmate changes this experience dramatically. I have been very fortunate in my cellmates, this time is no exception.

My last cellmate was a really decent guy, but he was quite messy and was a bit of a packrat. My new cellmate keeps the place spotless which is nice, but the fact that he wants to improve the place is far better.

The last three days have been spent on cleaning and "home improvement" projects. We paid a guy in the woodshop to cut us a toilet seat. We then padded it with some old towels and upholstered it with an old blanket. We used the remnants of the same blanket to line all of our shelves and counter tops. We weatherproofed our window and next week's projects include touching up the paint and waxing the floor, maybe a new shelf and some rugs after that. The possibilities are endless.

Now I realize that this probably sounds ridiculous. Gilding a turd is as pointless as gilding a lily, and when you consider the fact that both of us have just filed motions for early release and may very well be going home in a matter of weeks, the tasks seem even more senseless.

The thing that you must realize is that we must be in this cell now, so anything that we can do to make it a little better, makes us feel a little better now. No matter how much you would like to leave the cell, you must make it your own, you must make it the best it can be until you do leave it.

I believe that there is a lesson in this sentiment that holds true outside these walls. Sometimes the world seems like a cold and ugly place, sometimes your life may seem like a prison cell. My earlier observation still applies. You have to live in this world, this life, until you leave it, so why not make it your own. Why not make it the best it can be. You may not have a lot to work with, maybe just a pile of worn out hopes and a few broken dreams, but you would be amazed at how far a little ingenuity can take you, and at how good it will make you feel when you are done. Yes, it's true, someone may come along and tear it all down during the next "shakedown" life throws your way, but at least you will have enjoyed it while you had it and there is nothing stopping you from building it right back up again even better than before.

So what do you say? How about starting a "home improvement" project of your own, what do you have to lose?

- Brian , Monday January 8, 2007
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Thursday, January 04, 2007 Tales From The Inside - Episode 5 Tales From The Inside (Episode � Oh, Screw it) "Embraced By The Chicken Soup"

Every week, (through the US Postal Service, the kindness of my friend Dan, and the power of the Internet), my words reach you. Every week as I write these words, I fear that you will mistake me for a Pollyanna, a Peddler of Platitudes pushing dimestore psychology on you in a "Bernie Mac meets Dr. Phil" format. America, do you feel Embraced by the Light? Is this Chicken Soup for the Soul? God, I hope you know that I respect you more than that!

I suppose I could have gotten a mailorder degree and made a decent living writing self help books for the drooling public. I can turn a phrase and I can regurgitate lessons you were taught by Big Bird and Mr. Rogers. Hell, maybe I could pretend to be channeling some enlightened spirit. I heard that one is profitable (or is that prophetable?) If I could cry at will, I might have been a televangelist, but alas, I am merely a humble balloon merchant, (now in bonds) trying to dish out some caviar in the midst of all your spam.

I am a stargazer. I frolic, and when I listen to Beethoven's 9th symphony, I get orgasmic. At the moment, I am shoulder deep in shit. The highlight of my day today was hobbling across the prison cellblock on crutches to receive a letter sent to me by my dying father. Why am I not disillusioned? I am not disillusioned because I have no illusions. I know how ugly this world can be. I know how cruel life can be. I can't escape the fact (pun intended). These words that I write are my way of raging against the ugliness. They are my attempt to get you to do the same.

You can bag all the philosophy, theology, and psychobabel. Life gives you one choice, one decision to make over and over again. "Are you going to react to the ugliness of this world by making it more ugly, or by making it a little more beautiful?" Do you spread the evil that has been done to you? Pass on the pain? Or do you dig in your heels and scream "No, it stops here with me!" This is what this is about. This is what it has always been about. Could Jesus, Big Bird, and Dr. Phil all be wrong? I think not.

These words I write to you are not just a bunch of pleasant poetry, they form a standard to which I hold myself. I want the scattered fragments of my song to form a finer melody in you. So, stargaze through your tears, frolic through the thorns, and remember that Beethoven was stone deaf and in disgrace when he wrote the 9th.

- Brian

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Thursday, December 21, 2006 Tales From The Inside - Episode 4 - Last Minute Shopping Monday, December 18, 2006 Tales From The Inside � Episode 4 "Last Minute Shopping"

In February, an eviction. In March, a broken arm. April showers brought a flooded basement. June � December, prison. With two weeks left in 2006, I wake up each morning in fear that my cell will be filled with locusts.

I got a visit from my parents this morning and they told me that my father has leukemia. I would have preferred the locusts.

I don't think there is worse news that you can get in prison. It's never nice to find out that someone that you love has a killer swimming through their veins. When you are in prison, you can't run to their side. You can't stay up all night on the Internet researching the disease that is threatening to steal them from you � No, all you can do is sit with your thoughts, your regrets and your best intentions wrapped up in steel bars and razor wire.

My thoughts (and thus, my words) are not as buttoned up and polished as they usually are. I've shed tears today, I've felt the rage today, and I have not yet found the words that will make everything okay. This is me being human, this is me hurting, this is me struggling to find answers.

I like to have the answers. I like to wrap them up in flowery phrases and hand them to you. I don't mind paying for those answers even though the answers often come at a very high price. Sooner or later we all pay. All that we can do is make sure that we get the most for our buck. Maybe that, in itself, is a flowery phrased answer that I can hand you, right now, it's all I've got to give.

"Dear things are paid for dearly", that was one of the lessons I learned very early on, but Life likes to add a little spit and polish to all of those early lessons. The truth is, we pay dearly for everything. That is the way this game works. It is up to us to make wise purchases.

There are plenty of hustlers out there who will take your top quality pain and give you some cheap trinkets in return. Our pain is valuable and in this imperfect world, it is often the coin of the realm. Let the buyer beware. Never trade it for petty things like self pity, bitterness, and resentment. It may take a little longer, it may take a keen eye and some skilled bargaining, but you will find that for the same price you may have wisdom, compassion, and understanding. These are the currency of a better realm, a more perfect world.

If you must pay dearly, and you will, (I'm not in any state to pull punches), make sure that you are paying for truly dear things. Make it count, and help make things better.

I am sorry. I had planned a bright and shiny message for the holiday season, but I must give you what I have. I do wish everyone a very Merry Christmas and a beautiful New Year. Do something crazy, get drunk, kiss someone who is not expecting it, avoid criminal charges, but above all else, Live! Damn it, Live!

As for me, I have some unexpected last minute shopping to do. I promise to share my purchases with you, you're worth it.

- Brian

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Sunday, December 17, 2006 Tales From The Inside - Episode 3 Tales From The Inside Episode 3 "A Fatal Dose Of Hope?"

It's Monday night! This is the night of the week that I would post a favorite quote instead of writing something original. Monday nights were my nights to get too drunk to drive my keyboard down the path of enlightenment. Alas, I am a prisoner of sobriety (as well as the State of Ohio), but I still wish to drop a quote on you to start off this week's episode � for old times' sake �

"To Forgive wrongs darker than death or night. To defy power which Hope thinks omnipotent To love, to hope, till Hope creates, (from it's own wreck) The thing it contemplates � This, like thy glory, Titan, is to be good, Great and Joyous, Beautiful and Free �" - Percy Shelly "Prometheus Unbound"

There is another line or two to it, but the brain cells that stored that information have been destroyed (probably on a Monday night). Fortunately I remembered (and will never forget) the lines about "Hope", because "Hope" is the idea that I want to focus on tonight.

Five months ago, when I started this crazy stretch of my journey, I did something very uncharacteristic of myself. I decided to not allow myself to hope. I did not think myself capable of enduring the pain and disappointment that might come if my hopes were not realized and my motion for early release, denied.

I went on that way for just over a month and a half. I did not wallow in despair. I simply prepared myself for the worst and did not allow myself to believe that anything better might happen. Some days my expectations were met (those days I would rather forget). Some days I was pleasantly surprised, but never did I experience a moment of true Joy.

Then one day I cracked. I was overwhelmed by the weight of four years. Four years in a lonely, dark and ugly cage. That day was August 12th. I remember it, because it was the last day I shed a tear in here. On that day, (as has happened in the past) being broken opened me up to a truth that, (in my fear) I had forgotten.

Hope may not be able to change the outcome of a situation, but it does make the road to that outcome a lot more pleasant. We don't know � we can't know what the outcome is going to be, but Hope strips away fear of the unknown. When we are freed of that fear, we realize that the road that we are on really isn't that bad. We walk that road with our heads held high instead of slouching forward to the beat of our own internal dirge. With Hope, we arrive at that mysterious door at the end of the path, not downtrodden and defeated by our fears, but rather full of peace, and Joy, and strength. We arrive Victorious.

What if our hopes are not realized? What if they are dashed to pieces at the bottom of that last hill? Then you just have to laugh, (if you can), and realize that you made it to the bottom of that last hill in one piece, and it was a hell of a ride. Hope was just the vehicle that got you there. Remember that, and you just might find, in the midst of it's wreckage, the materials you need to build your dreams.

So, next time you're in the bar, raise a glass to Hope and know that I am hoping that I will soon be raising a glass with you.

- Brian Monday, December 11, 2006

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Tales From The Inside - Episode 2 Sunday, December 3, 2006 Author: Brian TALES FROM THE INSIDE � Episode 2 "I NEED A HERO"

Saturdays in Cell Block "H" are loud. Saturday nights are usually even louder, but last night was different.

Here at M.C.I. they show two new release movies every weekend on the prison's own closed circuit TV station, P.N.N. (Yes, that is "Prison News Network"). Last night's new release was "Superman Returns". They put the movie on at 9:30 PM. It was around 9:45 PM (while staring at the blank page in front of me) that I first noticed the deafening silence out in the cell block. Curiosity got the best of me and I stepped out of my cell to see what can be seen. To my surprise, the common area of the block was empty. No card games in play, no "breaks"* being cooked, no gossip, no arguments. Everyone who owns a TV was in their cell watching "The Man Of Steel", America's oldest and dearest Superhero. I scratched my head, put down my writing tablet, and turned on my set. By the end of the movie, I no longer puzzled over the bizarre phenomena that had compelled over a hundred felons to watch a guy in blue tights. I was also no longer at a loss for what to write in this "Episode".

Prison is a great place to observe human behavior. Every tendency and trait that you find on the outside exists here, amplified and exaggerated. The Bizarre phenomena of Cell Block H is a phenomena that can be found everywhere on any day in our country. We need a hero.

This nation has the richest of the rich. We have sports icons, stars and celebrities by the truckload, but do we really have any heroes?

In the endless parade of personalities the media marches past our eyes, is there anyone worthy of that title? No, I will argue that there isn't. Am I saying that there are no heroes in our country today? No, there are plenty of them, but do we really pay any attention to them? Occasionally some saintly individual will do some deed worthy of ratings and we will know their name. If they are lucky, they will be forgotten in a week. If they are not so fortunate they will soon have their motives questioned, their past dredged up and every indiscretion exposed. The media knows that the only thing we love more than a star is a falling star.

Why are we so reluctant to recognize the goodness around us? Why are we so quick to drag down the good doer? I believe that people hate to be challenged. They hate to see someone raise the bar, someone who sets a standard higher than their own. We hate a person with a true moral compass because we don't want to know just how far off course we are.

The residents of Cell Block H just showed me that this isn't always true. There is a part of us that longs for a hero, for someone who will rise above the awful gray of mediocrity and show us what we should be. Someone who will guide us, someone who will lead us, someone who will make us want to be better people.

We have within ourselves two dueling natures, and we must choose which we will heed. The one that will befoul the clean so they are not reminded of their own filth, or the one that would glorify those that can teach us to be the best people we can be.

This week I present to you a twofold challenge. First I challenge you to seek out the unsung heroes among you. Celebrate them. Raise them up high on your shoulders and make them feel like the heroes that they are. Secondly, I want you to take a good long look at these people. Try your best to rise to the standards that they set. Make yourself worthy of their honor, and in doing so, become a hero yourself.

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Monday, November 27, 2006 Tales From The Inside - Episode 1 (11/27/06) TALES FROM THE INSIDE - EPISODE 1

Friends. My Spacers. Loyal Readers. Lend me your eyes. I once asked you all a rhetorical question: "Is it better to get what you want, or to want what you get?" I stated with great conviction that it is better to want what you get; that though we may have (what we believe to be) a perfect plan. Our greatest plans pale in the light of the wild and beautiful spontaneity of life. Wish a casual flick of the wrist Fate can upend our grandest Schemes. We can waste our time (and double our defeat) by crying over it, or we can seize the beauty and potential of whatever circumstances we may find ourselves in � whatever we "get".

That blog was but one of the many sunshine enemas I have administered to you, but I believe it was one of the purest, one of the most true, and one of the most easy to write on a bright sunny spring day. It was easy to write, easy to read, and easy to believe.

Today the sky is gray. It is cold and rainy outside. I can see this from the window of my prison cell. I did not get what I want. Do I dare try to convince you that I want what I did get? No, but I do dare tell you that I am learning to want it. I am telling you that I still believe all of that happy crap with every fiber of my being. Is it a little harder to believe here in my present circumstances? Yes, I would be lying if I said otherwise, but consider this: Roses grow well in lovingly tended soil, but go to any old abandoned lot on a hot summer day and in the midst of the beaten and broken asphalt and shards of glass you will see a dandelion, more beautiful than any rose in contrast to it's surroundings.

It is hard not to long for the soil of that garden, the daily watering, and even the careful pruning, but I have been planted here, and here I have chosen to grow. Here I am doing my best to spread seeds.

Your neighbor may be an asshole, but I'm betting he is not a murderer. Did your boss just chew you out? I'm betting he didn't threaten to throw you in the hole. Did your friends just piss you off? They haven't tried to shank you recently, have they? I am in the ultimate proving ground for all of my pleasant Platitudes. If I can find beauty and wonder here, if I can give and receive kindness from those around me, I think that I may be permitted to suggest you give it a try wherever you may be right now.

Thanks to my dear friend, Dan (dannykewl on my "friends" list), I will be posting once a week as envelopes (and Dan's patience) permit. Comments, messages, etc. will be forwarded to me if anyone wishes to reply. If anyone feels like dropping me a snail mail letter, I can be reached at the following address:

I will be filing a motion for early release the first week of January. If it is granted, I should be back "in the garden" by March. If that does not happen, I will have another 3 years to grow among the other "weeds".

That concludes the first episode of "Tales From The Inside".

I promise the next will be shorter �

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