Poison Pill

I'm wondering how to overcome the poison pill of bitterness. I've been reading Miracles by one of my favorite authors, C.S. Lewis, and awareness of the natural state of things, both in the physical environment, the quantum realm (microscopic and the undetectable elements), and also the metaphysical (our internal dialog). Miracles are abundant in all three areas of life, the physical, quantum, and metaphysical, but it is the internal atmosphere that concerns me presently.

What does a miracle look like inside a human being, anyway? Of course, the moment of salvation and the beginning of Christian life are paramount in the category of miracles. The change is usually manifested in physical form with a change in attitude. The knowledge of eternal existence seems to relax a man about his destiny, but also the grasp, or change in temperament, of being made for something more. It is something more that occupies my mind these days.

I often wonder what is the purpose of my incarceration. It has brought heartache, simmering resentment, and an abundance of bitterness about the circumstances. I am paying the price and l will make the best of my time to see the positive side and come out a better man. I self-surrendered, and I have been a compliant inmate, but the nagging question that feeds my bitterness, and perhaps is the root cause, is the question of why?

I happily managed a successful business until the economic shutdown caused by the response to Covid. I participated in the federal relief efforts, paid back the money I borrowed, and it wasn't enough to satisfy the government. It is the first bitter pill I swallowed.

I self-surrendered to FPC Florence and experienced the first of many routinely practiced dehumanizing procedural practices intended to control the inmate population without regard for the dignity of a man. I acknowledge none would really care unless you've been an inmate yourself. I never gave this concern a second thought until I became incarcerated myself. I enjoyed the same naivety before I surrendered, but it leaves a man wondering about the society he's contributed to his entire life. It is the second bitter pill I swallowed.

I have witnessed several unbelievable cases of abuse against inmates from both the staff and other inmates. One would expect inmate abusive behavior, I suppose, but it surprised me with the lack of accountability or oversight of the BOP staff. If it's snowing outside and the guard in charge of your detail insists the day is bright and sunny, then guess what, 'that snowy day is suddenly a bright and sunny day.' I'm not joking either. It is the third bitter pill I swallowed.

The separation from my family was to be expected, and we prepared ourselves as best we could, but it was impossible to fully prepare for such a thing. The best plan in the world is not enough, and although I was intellectually prepared, my heart was broken by being separated. It is the fourth bitter pill I swallowed.

I don't have a magic potion that I can conjure, or a personal mantra strong enough to overcome, or a prayer I can invoke that will convince God to intervene, or an imagination creative enough to dampen the blow to the ego that can diminish the bitterness that engulfs my thoughts. I am fairly certain this one, my sixth mission statement, will take some time to figure out. Perhaps the first step to tackling bitterness is to make my first blog entry about it.