warriors

Last week I talked with a Navaho man who has been detained at MDC for 12 months and five days. He had been my classes since September.

At twenty six he seems ageless, his handsome, scarred face and dark eyes showing a kind of seriousness and wisdom I have rarely seen. Perhaps what I am seeing in him is the face of a veteran, a warrior who has fought but is not defeated.

He was placed in a boarding school for Native American kids when he was five, and held in this place till he was nine. There he learned to fight to get food, to defend himself from bigger boys, to steal the money his grandma sent him for food back from the aides. There, he was left by his older brother who went to live with grandma, and his baby brother who went back to live with his mother. There he became a warrior. The person he does not want to be anymore. A person who learned to use his fists to get respect and to survive.

He is a free man today, eager to start life over, to take care of his children and to leave his fighting days behind him.

Yesterday I interviewed another man who was born a crack baby to a woman who stole him back from social services three times. Three sets of foster parents gave him back to social services because he was "too bad." Raging and tearing up the house. I don't quite get a how a baby of 15 months or two years could be "too bad", but that's his story.

Finally at three years old he got adopted by a family that loved him and kept him.

He's been in my class for about six months and he has a super angry demeanor, that absolutely calms down the minute you look him in the eye, and treat him with respect. Over the months he became one of the students who carries the class; keeps it focused, is trustworthy and reliable, and inside that hard shell, a very kind and creative person.

We talked about his youth in the "Bloods" in California, growing with a loving family who supported his athletic career, learning about music from a young age, seeing many of his friends shot to death or going to prison, and deciding to go into the music business.

He talked about what it was like to grow up where gangs originally started to protect the neighborhood and manage the drug trade. And how in time the money and power fuelled increasing violence among the gangs.

I have come to know and respect these two men for their integrity, their creativity, their devotion to their families and their courage. When I get a glimpse of how much culturally ingrained violence they have survived, I am appalled. I hold with them their dream of moving forward, leaving all that violence behind, taking care of their young families, and succeeding in their work.

sage in the yard

Strange week. No class on Monday due to facility wide lock down for some kind of electrical repair. Wednesday we had been in class about 20 minutes when they came and got us for another facility wide lock down to check the generator.

When this happens I feel deflated. All that prep, then nothing. The guys were down too, from being locked up in their cells all week.

Friday I went out for yoga. The day was perfectly beautiful, the desert blooming with wild flowers, the air moist and windy like the sea shore.

I walked in with my Bhavana Vandana a book of buddhist meditations and prayers, and a branch of white sage I had picked in the jail parking lot to use as a talking stick.

One inmate, John has taken responsibility for this project, managing the sign up sheet.
He had procured a good big broom and sweep the dust out the yard, and was waiting for me.

Jesus a guy with "bitches ain't shit" tatooed on the back of his shaved head, and words tatooed into his eye brows greeted me with "Hey Homie" and a complicated hand shake ending with a "tap".

Everyone was interested in the sage. Is it weed? they asked. Can we smoke it?

Janathan a native guy said, "you boil that and it will make your stomach better." Everyone smelled it. People broke of a few leaves crushed them and smelled the sweet clean smell of the earth. Many people recognized it a a purifying herb.

In the pod there is plenty of day light, windows two stories tall lit by the sky, but that's all you can see from in there: a rectangle of sky divided by wire mesh. You can't see the sun rise or set, you can't see smell or touch land, earth, tree or animal. Some people stay in there for as long as two years.

So the sage was a welcome visitor from the earth.

I stood outside in the sun, my back against the wall, waiting for the 30 men to assemble.

We don't have yoga mats yet, so we're using gray jail issue blankets, sheets or orange shirts.

The temperature was perfect, but its only May. I said "Its nice out here now, but in summer its gonna be so hot we'll have to do this at 7 am." They smiled and said "that will be nice."

We began some standing breathing exercises and then a series of forward bends.
A forward bend in jail is a charged situation and some crude jokes and laughing started.

I stood very still, and calm in my mountain pose and looked at the youngsters (19 -20 year olds ) who were making most of the noise.

Steve, who is in my writing group, looked at me, with a face like a 10 year old. "What?" he said.

I said "I'm waiting for you to focus."

"Oh" he said and he and his buddies got quiet.

A new kid standing next to me kept asking questions. I asked him to be quiet and just listen, but he kept it up. After a about 5 minutes of this I stopped and turned to him and said in a calm voice. "I want you to stop talking. There is no talking during yoga class." " He stormed off in a huff and said "I can learn if I can't ask questions."

Now 29 men were were present and ready to practice yoga. They did great, had fun, tried everything. Got into a pretty good flow with a series of sun salutations.

After the asana practice I lead them into a meditation and ended that with this reading from Bhavana Vandana

The Protection of Loving Kindness

May those with no feet receive my love;
May those with two feet receive my love;
May those with four feet receive my love;
May those with Many feel receive my love;

May those with no feet not hurt me;
May those with two feet not hurt me;
May those with four feet not hurt me;
May those with Many feel not hurt me;

May all beings, all those with life;
All who have become, all in their entirety;
May all see what is good;
May suffering not come to anyone.

Then Shane and Jonathan, two Dine men, got up and went to the big plastic lounge chair they use as a drum and sang blessing songs for us. Their demeanor was so dignified, and humble, the sacredness of their offering so complete, that everyone simply deepened in their stillness. And for a few luminous minutes we were quiet in the fragrance of sage, the warmth of the sun, the companionship of each other.

As the men returned to their cells after class a few asked me for copies of the reading on loving kindness, and the kid who had stormed out said " I'm sorry if I was disrespectful, miss. I'll do better next time.""

This long and hurtful year has saved my life

The context: Writing class on Wensday May 5, 2010 opened with a reading and discussion of This passage from The Bhagavad Gita Chapter two verse 30:

"Arjuna; now listen to the principles of yoga. By practicing these you can break the bonds of karma. On this path effort never goes to waste, and there is no failure. Even a little effort toward spiritual awareness will protect you from the greatest fear."

During this discussion I added this quote to the mix:

"When the suffering is great, the Buddha appears."

We wrote about this and one man wrote this:


"When the Suffering is Great The Buddha Appears

When I was in the outside world I was doing a lot of bad things like kicking in doors. Once I threw someone off my second story balcony for disrespecting my ex-wife and my house. There were so many little things that had been building up over the past few years, and now I am sitting in jail for something that was not my fault, and I had to admit to breaking the law and have another felony conviction.(taking a plea)

Now that I have lost everything that made up my world I finally realized that a lot worse things could have happened to me, like killing someone, or having someone recognize me, and kill me in front of my loved ones.

Now that I am at the end of my time here at MDC, I realize that this long hurtful year has saved my life, and given me a new start, which I intend to take full advantage of.

I hope that all my bad karma has been repaid because I don't want a life behind bars, and now I have the tools to keep that old life behind me."

At this age I especially love

In Writing Group we read a beautiful poem by Robert Bly ( see below) discussed it explored it, and then inspired by the lines

At This Age I especially love.... Wrote our own words.

I'll be posting their writing the Comienzos Web site.

Here's' what I wrote:

At this age I especially love

The way my daughter tells me her life over a boring bowl of broccolli.

The cold feet of my cat walking over my sleeping body

A good strong cup of coffee, sweet, with cream.

Sitting in a circle with "my men" hearing their wonderful lives.

The vastness of the ever changing sky

Singing with my friends

Fire light

Deep soul journeys with people I love and trust

Laughing till my stomach hurts, then some

Water colors, jewel colors, flower colors, sky colors, the colors of our skins

Drums beats quieting my restless mind into a wordless pulse

Knowing I am not alone but seen, heard and accompanied on this perilous and wondrous journey

Knowing for sure I can help


I HAVE DAUGHTERS AND I HAVE SONS by Robert Bly

1
Who is out there at six a.m.? The man
Throwing newspapers onto the porch,
And the roaming souls suddenly
Drawn down into their sleeping bodies.

2
Wild words of Jacob Boehme
Go on praising the human body,
But heavy words of the ascetics
Sway in the fall gales.

3
Do I have a right to my poems?
To my jokes? To my loves?
Oh foolish man, knowing nothing-
Less than nothing-about desire.

4
I have daughters and I have sons.
When one of them lays a hand
On my shoulder, shining fish
Turn suddenly in the deep sea.

5
At this age, I especially love dawn
On the sea, stars above the trees,
Pages in The Threefold Life,
And the pale faces of baby mice.

6
Our good life is made of struts
And paper, like those early
Wright Brothers planes. Neighbors
Run along holding the wing-tips.

7
I do love Yeats's decisiveness
As he jumps into a poem,
And that lovely calm in my father's
Hands, as he buttoned his coat.

no mocking

Last Friday we tried something new in F-8. An outdoor yoga and meditation class for 30 people. My regular guys were skeptical about allowing more people to participate. They Said " They'll mock the yoga, Miss Tejal. They'll just mess around the whole time." Somehow the word got around that this was to be respected, and entered into with seriousness, because this is the way the men wanted it.

Thursday we had 50-60 miles an hours winds and cold, and Friday started off blustery, snow showers, and generally psychotic New Mexico spring weather. Standing out in the reck yard at 2:10, waiting for my guys, the sun broke through and made a twisty grid pattern through the wire mesh.

The men stood, chilly in their cotton orange jail uniforms, and I asked them to spread out and find a spot of sun, make sure they had enough room to swing their arms around
without hitting any one. There was a quiet expectancy, and little bit of nervous laughter.

We did about 45 minutes of postures, and fell into the peaceful entrainment that inevitably comes from practicing yoga together, each man in his own square of sun light and brilliant blue sky.

We sat in meditation for 10 minutes, then one young man sang a beautiful song, a sweet ballad for his girl.

Then we passed a candy wrapper for a talking stick. I heard men praying for the safety and well being of their families, and may they lack nothing.

I heard men saying "Thank you for taking your time to be with us." I heard men saying "I was was stressed and gloomy before, now I see things in perspective."
I said "I have been doing yoga for 30 years, and wherever I go in the world it feels like this: People feeling right with each other."

I heard no mocking.