A Compassion Project
Though I wasn’t surprised that our safer-at-home order was extended, I had an emotional response. Intellectually, I understood. Emotionally, I felt sad and contracted. Last week, with intention, I shifted from a “sprint” mindset to a “marathon” mindset, but when the marathon arrived, I experienced disappointment, not yet having done the training. Now each day is a training in patience, presence, kindness, and forgiveness.
Many of you know that I volunteer in prison. Within prison walls, I teach meditation and mindfulness. We sit together, as a community, for 90 minutes. There’s meditation, sharing, teaching, and more meditation. I witness heartbreaking stories (most inmates have experienced trauma and abuse as kids). I witness courage, insight, and meaningful change. I see people practicing mindfulness—practicing peace—in a noisy, unkind environment. This inspires me to sit on my meditation cushion each morning with renewed vigor. It inspires me to be my best self when life is complicated and difficult (as it is now).
The prison population is vulnerable to COVID-19. No visitors (family, friends, or volunteers) are allowed inside. The prison staff is doing the very best they can during this unprecedented time. I’m allowed to make a mindfulness video each week, which is played on the institution channel. This means I reach an even broader audience. Two prisons now receive a personal mindfulness class each week. New people tune in. Maybe someone, once skeptical, decides to try mindfulness.
Though I miss (deeply) seeing my group members in person, I’m trying to embrace this new opportunity. I begin each video with “words from the outside.” I read messages, quotes, encouragement, and inspiration from people “on the streets.” This lets inmates know that it’s not just me who cares about their well-being—the broader community cares, too.
Because I record a weekly video, I need your help! I seek wise, kind, compassionate, real messages from the outside. These inmates are vulnerable, to both coronavirus and to the complex world of prison (and their own wounds, shame, guilt, and grief). They cannot receive visitors (even virtually, as many of us now do). They are hidden from view. They are shunned by society. Yet they’re in the same state of anxiety, uncertainty, and sadness that we all experience.
Please don’t fuss over your words—let them be messy, ordinary, and real—but share. Share from your heart. I’ll use the messages you send for weeks to come. Though there are many pandemic service projects, this prison outreach is rarely highlighted, yet your words make a huge difference in the lives of prisoners. What do you want them to know during this complicated time?
Share in the comments, contact me on the website, or email: joy@bornjoy.com
Deep thanks for your consideration and care!