The prison self is made of the strongest bars imaginable. Inescapable save for one key the only the self holds. For many, the self is unaware that it holds the key. The prison of the self can be figurative, theoretical, or real, even. But if you’re it in, it matters not.
Some prisons are depression or addiction: immense expanses whose borders are enormous, until you run into them hard. They hit you hard and repeatedly. Sometimes, unrelentlessly.
Other prisons are smaller, but no less imposing. Self-doubt, guilt, procrastination, or greed. These incarnations are a little more manageable, in that if you try with honest effort and tenacity, you can be free of them, either temporarily or permanently.
Another sort of prison and I’d say the most confining and intimidating is the loss of faith. This is an enigmatic confinement , because first, you don’t know that you’re imprisoned and aren’t moved to do anything to escape the confinement.
What’s the route to becoming aware of your lack of freedom and escaping to a greater sense of liberty? This question has been a seminal one for the greatest thinkers throughout the ages: Socrates, Jesus, Joan of Arc, Hildegard von Bingen, Gautama Buddha, Becket, Shakespeare, Dante, Rosetti, Browning, Yeats, Cather, Bonhoefffer, Rand, Ghandi, Mohammed, Thersa of Avila, St. John of the Cross, King, Churchill, Jordan. All came up with personal hypotheses and treatises that met with acceptance or rejection or worse.
The only way to escape this prison of doubting faith is to self fashion the key with materials consisting of mercy, grace, gratitude, acceptance and intent. Getting through the locks brings one to a place of tenuous serenity that lasts only as long as one keeps “awake”. Being awake is critical to survival in these days of isolation and uncertainty and fear and lack of leadership.
By escaping this intimidation prison of self, one can also fashion approaches to flee confinements and stay open to the graceful possibilities of the present. And to keep roaming freely in the great wide world of the physical and infinite expanses of the metaphysical. And to figure out, one day at a time, as Mary Oliver encourages us, what to do with this one wonderful wild life that we’re given.
