When Life Jerks You Around

Lately, life has felt like a roller coaster.  In these times, I turn to the prison residents for inspiration, because I’ve watched so many of them move through the yo-yo of hope and despair … and do so with remarkable steadiness.

Take just one person’s story as an example.

He has a life sentence.  And, despite having no incentive, he started working on his rehabilitation over seven years ago.

A few years ago, new legislation opened the door for people in certain circumstances – including his – to have a chance to go before the Parole Board. He still had years to wait, but the possibility was there. A small light of hope.

He didn’t dare to believe in this possibility until he was called into his pre-Board consultation (held 5 years out), confirming that this opportunity really did exist for him.

Then, after this consultation, another law was passed — one that closed that same door.  Overnight, his path to freedom vanished.

Months later, the powers-that-be reversed course again: the new law, they decided, didn’t apply to his case after all. The door was open once more.

Shut.  Open.  Shut.  Open.  Shut.  Open again.

Despair.  Cautious hope.  Belief.  Despair.  Hope.

This kind of yo-yo journey isn’t rare inside prison. The rules change. Interpretations shift. Lives are upended – not because of something they did or didn’t do, but because the system moved.

And yet, what strikes me most is not the fairness or unfairness of it all. It was the residents’ steadiness through it.

While devastated, the above resident didn’t crumble when the law shifted. He didn’t disengage or give up. He kept showing up in our circles, mentoring others, running powerful programs of change, doing the internal work he’s been doing for years. He didn’t let his identity depend on external news — good or bad.  He didn’t let the circumstances define his worth.  He trusted that God and the universe work for him and not against him, even when all the evidence pointed to the contrary.

That’s rare strength.

Most of us — myself included — can get thrown off balance by a single unexpected email, a changing work directive or an unclear future.  Much less, the death of a loved one or the loss of a job.  But real freedom — inside or outside prison — comes when we find our value within and can remain steadfast regardless of circumstances. 

This man with a life sentence shows me – and hopefully you too now – what it truly means to be free.

Because life will jerk you around. 

You have a choice:  When the rules change, when your plans fall apart, when what was promised or what you’ve worked towards for months or years is suddenly taken away, will you crumble?  Or will you stay peacefully rooted in who you are, even as the storm howls around you, and show up with steadiness and presence?  One is destructive.  The other is liberating.

PS:  This yo-yoing of despair and hope is so common among the Donovan folks that, just last Tuesday, one circle member found out that his commutation (opening the way to his release) had been refused.  Another learned that a law that favors his early release is being repealed.