The Freedom to Be Better

        I've an interesting topic this week, my friends.  At least, I think it is.  Perhaps I should preface each one that way, since it's better promotion than starting off with, "Well, sorry, but this is another boring post."  But I was talking to a friend about choosing a topic for this week, and this friend suggested using the subject of our little chat we had been having.  Of course it was an interesting conversation, or I wouldn't have chosen it, nor would I have prefaced the post this way.  Ahem.

Freedom is nothing but a chance to be better.

~ Albert Camus

        The conversation I was having was about my experience with another friend I've known for many years, who has taught me numerous, invaluable lessons about life and myriad other things.  This friend - I'll call him Frank - experienced tragic and unusual circumstances which led to his being incarcerated, with no chance of being released in his lifetime.  Being an unusual sort of person who actually writes letters with people, I then began writing with Frank, to remind him that he had friends out in the world who cared about him.  Thus began the solidification of a friendship which has lasted and grown ever since - for over a decade - he being one of my best and closest whanau brothers.  I once asked him for permission to share his story, which was timidly given with many misgivings, but I could never find the right way to express my thoughts, and so until now, I've not done so.  I hope to do justice to his story, here.

Note: I want you to know, this is not a post about the justice system, legislation nor the treatment of those within the system, though in some ways those things are sort of implied; I do want to make sure, however, that any comments to/about this post are made with respect for the views and feelings of others.  Now where was I?  Oh yes...

        With respect to this brother of mine, a decade is a very long time, and living it in a situation like his makes each day seem like a year, in itself.  Frank has always responsibly accepted his fate, and the consequences for the choices made, even though some of the choices were not his, and some of the choices he made were the result of circumstances beyond his control.  Despite all the other contexts, he has never tried to find ways out of his misfortune, and has always respected the system in general, even if he hates being on that side of it.

        Frank grieves, every day: his life outside, his family, his friends; his job, church and community experiences; the little things, like being able to eat a pizza or drive to the store.  He also grieves the man he once believed himself to be, and the one he knows others thought him to be, as well as his relationships with them; many simply let him slip out of their lives when he was no longer an active participant in them. He grieves the things which used to make him feel like a man - or even a human being.  His experience has stripped him of so much, and forced him to take a deep and meaningful look at life, love and all the things a person can have and enjoy in a lifetime.  In very few ways is Frank the man who went in, and the man who leaves will be entirely different from the one those who knew him would recognize.  

        In his grief and shame, this dear friend has struggled with feelings of self-hatred, self-condemnation, and the sense that he is unworthy of any and all love and good will, even beyond those feelings others might have toward him.  For a long time, Frank's faith was completely disoriented, as he couldn't understand why his god would have allowed him to have survived so many things in his lifetime, just to let him wind up in such a position, with so many, horrible things in its wake.  He pondered a life which allowed him to end up at the mercy of a society which loathed and fought over allowing his being kept alive, and yet whose disputable generosity allowed him food and a roof and the company of others he found to be friends and even his own whanau along the way.  

        How on earth could someone who had spent his lifetime trying to help other people, find himself in a situation wherein he was everything most other people condemned?  How could he, a generally-faithful man, have fallen into such a horrible place in life?  And how on earth could he possibly make up for such a terrible cost to so many people; not just those who suffered directly from the circumstances, but others removed from them, including the very society who resented his very existence?  Was there any way he could keep from allowing his life to be the utter waste he and so many others felt it was?

And here begins my actual story.  

Because this is when his greatest influence on my life truly began.

        

        Frank has often, over the years, tried to figure out how he could contribute to something bigger than his own existence.  My counsel to him has been mixed, because in my own experience, I have had to pretty much look around and pay attention to where needs were, which I could help to fulfill.  So our letters usually consist of some kind of observation, action and/or review of things that he could do to improve the lives of those around him.  

       He has done things such as comfort other inmates with illness, ranging from simple colds - which are never simple in a place like that - to friends who are reaching the end of their lives, such as one who was dying of cancer and had very little comforts available.  He often tries to cheer people up and make them laugh, listen to the heartaches of those without any support from the outside, and sort of mentor new inmates who feel lost and alone, in ways that inspire hope and positive directions for their lives, even in such a place.  Somehow he has found a balance which attracts people looking for a form of light in such darkness, and it has affected everything from the kinds of friends he has to the ways the guards treat him.  He has even learned to crochet and draw, providing gifts to friends within, and loved ones outside, the prison.  His creativity in serving others has done a world of good to many, inspiring recovery in those who might never have thought to change, nor felt enough support to try.

        I really liked the quote I chose to use with this post. Freedom is nothing but a chance to be better.  It works well, because for Frank, he may never be "free" in the sense that we normally consider it, but in his own way, he has created a kind of freedom for himself which extends beyond his circumstances.  He reads; studies new things; learns about different cultures and social views; tries to balance his shadows with light.  In ways many others who are considered "free" don't do, he builds his own freedom by striving to be better than he is, and make the most of what freedoms he has.  

Can you imagine the difference that could happen in your life,

if you decided to face life with the same attitude?

        Better days ahead, my friends!