MINDFULLNESS PRISON MIND

Week one prison. I flash my badge, which says, "STRESS REDUCTION." My picture smiles out at the guard. He wearily reaches to buzz me in, motioning me to step through the metal detector. Don't they search people? What stops people from smuggling things in? I enter the patio, where much of prison life seems to be taking place. Men lounging underneath the basketball hoops. Smoking. Staring vacantly. Watching...the pay phones?I feel more than see all eyes on me. I hope I remember where I need to go to teach my 8 week class on Mindfullness Based Stress Reduction, the sterile "TV ROOM" where prisoners play board games and make handycrafts. Is it my imagination or are there hostile glances as I enter, disturbing the din of the TV? The loud speaker grates my ears. "ALL PRISONERS WHO WANT THE STRESS CLASS REPORT TO ROOM NUMBER 7". Who would want a stress class, I feebly think? We gather around the long metal table, the stressed and the stressing. I fumble with the cables, tottering on a chair trying to get plugged in. I feel watched, with an intensity of gazes, that analyze my every move. I have the thought, "Teaching mindfullness in a prison is like entering a beehive and teaching discipline." I'm not sure what this means. But there is no lack of attention at this moment. We start with a short meditation. As I look around the room, the men's eyes are closed, and their faces relaxed. Some even have half smiles. I feel I have done my job and am ready to leave. THE LOUD SPEAKER CRACKLES OUT AN URGENT MESSAGE WHICH I MISS AND THE MEN GO TEARING OUT THE DOOR. "The count," I'm told. They come back. We go around the room and each has a heart breaking story. They tell their stories as if lining up for the chain gain, compulsory, obediently, even I'd say, wryly. I have a captured audience and the repercussion is deadening my voice. Noone asks questions. We finish with the raisin. The raisin is a famous mundfullness excersize that involves closing your eyes and being told that martians are going to give you something from their planet, and you have to take it and savour it and identify each breath of the raisin. Being the raisin. They closed their eyes and giggled. they liked the raisin. They said they had never tasted anything so sweet in their lives. They ate the entire bowl of raisins and asked if I could bring more next week.