My friend, Kent, was,
in the fall of 2011, on an emotional plateau. He had learned how to cope with
his environment and was getting good at suppressing his longing and regret for
the life he threw away. In retrospect, he said later that, since his arrest, he
had been moving through the stages of grief: denial, anger, and depression. His letters for the next couple of months reflected his
continued struggle against falling deeper into the pit of anger at himself and hopelessness
of his situation.
September 20, 2011
You gave me a fresh
perspective to consider regarding the ruin of my life. It’s true that I wouldn’t
have had the good years that I did if I had self-destructed earlier. I guess
I’m still just bemoaning the fact that I did it at all. But there are no
do-overs so I’m just going to have to try to make the best of whatever time is
left me.
September 25
Today’s sermon by
Jennifer Forker was titled “Awareness and the Art of Being Human.” It was a
reminder of how out of touch I am from my own sense of awareness. This is
because I operate with my feelings in the “off” mode. In order to be aware, I
have to fully feel and I just can’t do that here. I truly hope I can get to
Terminal Island (TI) and get myself into regular therapy, where it’s safe to
let the tears flow. I know that’s what will happen when I flip the “on” switch
for my feelings. I spent years in my men’s group learning how to give myself
permission to cry. But here I cannot afford to put that ability to good use.
And I know in my heart that I will need to. There is so much grieving that I
need to do; so much loss to be acknowledged.
Sometimes he would talk
about his support system.
September 20, 2011
I’ve begun to feel
like I’m adding stress to my daughter’s life when I call her and ask for
pictures and things. Shortly after I began serving my sentence, she said she
wanted me to call her every week so that she would know I was okay. But with
the passage of time, I think she has come to accept that I have learned how to
stay safe in this world. I think my weekly calls have come to be a reflection
of my own neediness and I just need to back off and give the girl some space.
September 29
I feel guilty now
about skipping my call to K and worrying her. I’m just trying not to be so
damned needy. But I won’t do that again.
My pen pal from
Church of the Larger Fellowship (CLF) is a hoot. He is a retired stock broker
and he keeps giving me stock tips, even though I’ve explained that I am not in
any position to act on them. I enjoy his letters, which I refer to as thought
salad” because he writes about whatever pops into his head.
The books are
plentiful. I get a couple a month from P via Amazon. Plus the library has a
good selection and there is also a box here in the unit where people put books
after they read them. At the moment, I have about 15 paperbacks stashed in my
locker (we’re only supposed to have five).
Thanks for sending
the copies of the letters people have written to the U.S. Sentencing
Commission. I get some encouragement out of knowing there are people out there
fighting on my behalf and who don’t regard me as a monster. I guess that number
will continue to grow as the number of men who are being prosecuted for this
has increased 2500% since 2006 as one of those letters pointed out.
Last night, I had a
15-minute conversation with my son, C. It represents a major leap in the
healing of our torn and tattered relationship. He said he would like to hear
from me from time to time. Not so long ago, he wouldn’t even open a letter from
me. Progress! This is something I have prayed for daily. As I have said before,
I don’t pray for anything that is beyond my capability to achieve on my own. So
I selfishly take full credit for arriving at this hopeful juncture.
I’m flattered and a
little blown away that you think some of my letters might be worthy of
publication. But I’m not sure how the authorities would feel about it. We are
strictly forbidden to call radio or TV stations or newspapers. I would feel
better about it if I remained anonymous.
His thoughts were
also occupied with what happens when he gets out.
September 20
For about 30 seconds,
I flirted with the possibility of getting released to my sister’s house. But
this is also the house where I spent my adolescence with my father and
stepmother. Those walls hold nothing but deeply unhappy memories for me. The
notion if living there again is just unacceptable.
September 25
Do you go to church
every Sunday? I look forward to being able to do that. One of the first things
I will do when I get settled on the outside is find the nearest UU church. I
hope I can get involved in their community outreach programs, such as dealing
with the homeless. But I fear that I will be required to notify anyone I might
work with of my status as a convicted felon and registered sex offender (SO).
I’m not sure if that rule applies to volunteer work. You have to do it for paid
jobs and when you’re renting an apartment or house. That, combined with
restrictions on housing locations, makes it extremely to find a place to live.
A lot of SOs end up in tents under freeway off ramps.
September 29
On the matter of
future computer ownership, there is some hope. I re-read the judge’s
instructions and he said no computers or smart phones “without written
permission from the probation agent.” I think I can make a case that. For a
writer, a computer and the internet are tools of the trade. I can certainly
agree to have a monitoring program installed. I won’t be going anywhere on the
internet that I shouldn’t—of that I am certain.
He answered my
questions about how things work there.
September 29
To answer your
question, this place is a government facility under the justice department, not
a private for-profit. However, it feels as if it’s run as a money-making
enterprise. They won’t let you send blank paper or anything that we can buy
here. Our phone calls cost 23 cents per minute and e-mail (which I’m not
allowed) costs 5 cents a minute. A Sony radio (which we need in order to hear
TV audio) costs $38. I think the same one at Radio Shack would cost about $10.
The government gives the prison $68 a day for most prisoners. But they give
$228 a day for each sex offender. Why? I have no idea. There are around 600 SOs
here.
But weighing most
heavily on his mind was the possibility of a transfer to another facility. The
rule is that he is eligible after 18 months at his current place.
September 20
I’m starting to fear
that the census is so consistent at TI because it’s so hard to get into. But
the time draws closer to make the effort -–just 41 days to go.
September 29
As of this writing,
I am exactly 30 days away from transfer eligibility. I’m trying as best I can
not to get too excited about it as there is every chance that I will be shot
down or denied my first choice. But the possibility of having more access to K and
her family, as well as my sister and my brother is so enticing and encouraging.
October 16
Of late, all my
anticipation has been going into the approach of my transfer eligibility and
the intense desire I have to be out of this place. Of course, I will still be
in prison, but if all goes my way, I will be in a place where I am regarded
with more respect and will have more choices available to me for a healing
journey. And, of course, there’s the hope of being on the ocean, which holds
for me a wealth of soothing and calming properties. I’m probably setting myself
up for a crushing disappointment should the transfer be denied.
October 30
The day after
tomorrow is transfer application day. Wish me luck. I sure hope I’m not setting
myself up for a crushing disappointment.
November 6
I saw the case
worker on Tuesday and officially requested my transfer. Someone I know applied
and it took five weeks for him to get his answer and then another week for him
to he shipped. Already not a good sign, the case worker said to me, “There are
four or five people ahead of you, so it’s gonna take me a couple of weeks
before I can get yours in.”
His Sunday readings
continued to feed his inner spirit and provoke introspection.
September 25
Today I read the
first chapter in Mandela’s Way, which
was titled “Courage is Not the Absence of Fear.” “Pretend to be brave,” he
says, “and you will be brave.” I
think that’s what I did in that first encounter with the DWB back in January. I
certainly don’t consider myself inordinately brave, but pretending to be does
help. It does give you an edge. I think.
October 2
The chalice lighting
today was a very moving statement on the ability to embrace grief and let it
wash over us, embracing its healing properties. SS wrote of undergoing cancer
surgery just 13 days before her husband did. She survived and he did not. She
delivered her talk just two weeks after the passing of her mother.
Today’s chapter of
Mandela’s Way was titled “Be Measured” and speaks of the need for calm in the
face of turmoil. It cites several examples in which Mandela has demonstrated
this trait not only in his personal life but in his dealings on the national
and international stage. He is truly an inspiration.
October 9, 2011
Rev. Nadine Swahnberg’s
sermon, “Casting for Character,” reflects upon the dearth of character in our
modern world. In reading it, I was reminded of something I once read somewhere
that stated in effect “The true test of character is what you do when no one
else is watching.” This line of thought led me to reflect on what I had done to
lead to my incarceration; acts performed in secret that I reasoned “didn’t
count” because no one else knew about them. I have since come to realize how
wrong-headed that thinking was. It turns out that someone was watching the
whole time, monitoring my actions, even my thoughts. That someone was me. Why
did I come to believe that my own opinion of myself didn’t count for something?
I became quite
accomplished at lying to myself. If someone had asked if I were an honest man,
I would have replied that it was the virtue I prized the most. And yet I lived
whole portions of my life in secret, lying by omission about my activities. So
when I was arrested and my whole life thrown open to the world, I was aghast at
having to admit that I was not an honest man; that I was, in fact, a person of
low character who had been actively engaged in violating my own moral code. It
was a shattering experience. But I had to come to grips with the fact that I
had become accomplished at editing out my faults when engaging in any kind of
self-evaluation. If you look at your own life and see only your virtues, you
will doubtless arrive at the conclusion that you’re a pretty fine person.
This is not to say
that I am not without virtues. I feel I am a kind person; that I have empathy
for others and that I have been a good father to my children. I derive pleasure
in helping others. Some of these virtues seemed to get plowed under in the
latest chapter of my life. But it was the flaws in my character that I had to,
at long last, acknowledge and begin to work on. That led me to therapy, 12-step
work, and the front door of my nearest UU church. A religion whose central
focus is on becoming a better person was just what the doctor ordered. I have
to thank you for recommending it, even though it was years ago. Somehow, your
words stayed with me and came to the surface precisely when I needed them.
I’m firmly committed
to the journey to rebuild my character, this time without all of the cracks and
flaws I once found it so easy to ignore.
October 20
The second lesson in
the CLF’s Spirit of Life course dealt with rituals—which ones are important to
us and what we do to incorporate rituals into our lives. I wrote of weddings
and funerals, holiday dinners where the food is secondary in importance to
those who are gathered together. I also wrote of my weekly “congregation of
one” ritual. On that subject, I should tell you that the letters I write to you
are an important ingredient because they keep me focused on the content of the
sermons and readings. It would be easy to just glance over them and then, just
as quickly, forget what I have read. But, because I am committed to write to
you about how the topic relates to me and how I felt about it, it keeps me
thinking about what I have read.
And thank you for
reminding me that I do have some contact with my feelings, thanks to this
Sunday ritual. I tend to walk around with my emotions and feelings tamped down.
But on those Sundays, I do some soul searching and get in touch with the
feelings I usually keep stored just out of reach.
As always, thanks
for caring.
Love, Kent
