Mindfulness in everyday life.
Last Monday, after my long prison day, I felt a new understanding of impermanence. We did meditations on body sensations—noticing how they shift, pulse, and vibrate; how the changing nature of our bodies is okay. It’s not wrong, it’s natural. On my drive home, I listened to a dharma talk that encouraged more investigation: watch the nature of sensations, then open awareness to death—what if I no longer exist? In my expanded awareness, I was okay because I was present, alive in the moment.
On Monday, in prison pastorals and groups, I witnessed rich and varied stories: An inmate struggling to love himself (even like himself). This motivated him to practice loving-kindness inward. He easily expresses compassion for others yet realized how little he has for himself. Now he does daily compassion prayers inward. Through tears he said, “I don’t know why it’s so hard. I don’t know why I feel so undeserving.”
Our first day in Haiti, we traveled from Port-au-Prince to Caneille, located in the rural Central Plateau. During the car trip, I looked out the window in wonder. It felt like a novel unfolding: each new visual told a story. The landscape changed from urban to mountain view to rolling-hill farmland. The sights were abundant and interesting: tap-taps carrying large numbers of people, kids hauling water uphill on makeshift wheel barrows…
Haiti is on my mind and in my heart. I’ll be processing this trip for months. It was an experience like none I’ve ever had. For six days, we were immersed in rural Haitian culture, language, and life. The homesteads in Caneille have no electricity or running water; they rarely have a latrine. People must walk miles to fill jugs of safe drinking water. Ten people sleep in a hut the size of most American living rooms.
