Being Buddhist in Prison

Written by: Vajra Kshanti | Dharma Breeze, Journal of the Desert and Mountain Sangha; 2000

I received Bodhisattva precepts and vows on April 22nd at Lancaster prison. The ceremony itself was short and not excessively serious in tone. The content was quite the opposite. A new and different task has been set before me. May my preceptor accept me as a future Buddha, though I remain as a bodhisattva without entering Nirvana, so long as a single living being remains unenlightened. That line in particular has set me to thinking.

Prison is, obviously, not a place where compassion and mindfulness are practiced regularly.

I have a chance to do that.

I have been in prison since September 21, 1988. For the last twelve years I have not had a sincere desire to get out of prison, mainly because of the fact that lifers are not being let out. So I thought, why bother looking for something that will not happen? But recently it hit me that I want to do everything in my power to be released. For a time, I was focused upon this goal, for goals are good, right? With an optimistic heart I began to convince myself that maybe I would get a new chance.

Now I sit thinking of chances. Prison is, obviously, not a place where compassion and mindfulness are practiced regularly. I have a chance to do that. People do not generally practice Dana - giving and charity - in here; I have a chance to do that as well. I have a chance to practice all of the Paramitas.

I have been in prison since September 21, 1988.

For the last twelve years I have not had a sincere desire to get out.

The Dharma teaches that the true nature of all beings is inherently Buddha-Nature. Even us convicts. Some days I can almost see a prison yard full of Buddhas when I walk outside. I say "almost" with a smile, because of a saying I have adopted for times in which I screw up or am not seeing truly: "Not Buddha yet."

A strange feeling comes over me as I continue this train of thought. I can look out of my cell and see someone drunk on homemade whisky. He has done this to himself to escape the illusory harshness and loneliness of prison life. The alcohol has only aggravated these perceptions and anger generally follows. I used to do this to myself. I can look at him now and feel not pity, but a growing compassion for him and the circumstances in which he has placed himself. It is impossible to escape from yourself - sooner or later the masks all wear out and it is your true face staring at you in the mirror. I do not know how to help him, all I can think to do is not to judge him and be around if ever he decides to change.

Because of my past I personally know the trials of battling drug abuse. It never ends. Even now, with a certainty in my heart that I will never use again, I occasionally feel a craving. But the craving is an old friend now; I try to recognize it and let it go away. Letting go of my delusions and perceptions is much more difficult.

I personally know the trials of battling drug abuse. It never ends.

The craving is an old friend now; I try to recognize it and let it go away.

Today, reflecting on the Bodhisattva vows I have taken, I am filled with a feeling that I am at the edge of something...something beyond my ability to put into coherence. I can recognize that I am afraid to step over the edge and that I do not yet have the courage it takes - but it's growing.

I will make my efforts to be released because I am a realist, and human. I will, though, try to be less sad that I am here and try to give gifts of my smile and non-judging to everyone. Even those who don't like it. There are ample numbers of sentient beings here for me to travel with. And, as the saying goes, "When life gives you murderers and thieves, make Buddhas."