Wednesday, November 25, 2009
The key to happiness in prison lies in focusing upon the small things that bring pleasure.
To raise one's eyes above the horizon, to dream of the world just out of reach, is to risk subjecting oneself to that endless torment that comes from grasping for the Moon.
Today is a good day. The words have been flowing from mind to keyboard at an astonishing rate. Someone has lent me a battery to run my new MP3 player and I can allow myself to be moved by music. The paper I am printing on is a particularly pleasing shade of white. There is an interesting science programme on the TV. My beard is nicely cropped, like a Gandhi gone slightly to pot. And I replied to a pile of my mail, easing my conscience somewhat.
I am in prison. From where I sit, I can only take three steps before the walls or door halt me. I am separated from those I love and care for. I am fighting the depression that grows out of the perpetual frustration of feeling unable to make a difference to life. And I go to sleep knowing that this will be repeated again for an unknown number of tomorrows.
Focus on the small things. You will surely be happier.