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THE WHEEL KEEPS TURNING 

“My cellmate went out to the yard.  This would be a good time to meditate.  I’ll just hop down on the floor and do this.  Okay, what am I doing here?  Am I sitting right?  My legs are folded and let’s see, the book said to have your butt up higher than your knees so this pillow works okay for that.  Is my back straight?  It feels straight, but I’m straining too much.  Oh yeah, they said to put a curve in your back with your belly sticking out like the Buddha.  They’re right, that does make it more comfortable.  Okay, I’m ready to go.  Where do I put my mind?  Was it the belly or the nose?  What did they say, count the breath or feel the breath?  Man, now I have to check the book and start all over again.  The belly and feel the breath, stupid.  Now, back to my posture, Ane Pema said to get the points right, let me see, butt, feet, back, neck, head, and ready.  I feel the breath coming in; I feel the breath going out, in and out.  This is easy man, what’s all the whining about?  ‘I hurt when I sit, the noise bothers me, my cellmate is inconsiderate,' wimps, that’s all.

“I think I’ll sit for about an hour this time and then again tonight.  That should take care of it.  That book by that Yogurt or whatever he was said that’s the way he got enlightenment.  Just think, a way to get rid of my troubles, I don’t have to be mad anymore, or unhappy and all that bad stuff I did back down the road will be gone, yeah, this is it.  I wish I had found it years ago.  I could have avoided a lot of misery.  Man, this is better than drugs, I feel really calm and for once I have found a way to stop all those crazy thoughts that I have.  My mind is blank, not a thought going through.  Yeah, nothing to it.

“In and out, in and out.  I wonder how I look doing this?  I wonder if I look like one of those Rinpoche cats?  I think I’ll shave my head like those dudes in the pictures I’ve seen. Man, even the chicks shave their heads.  What’s up with that?  Maybe I could get away with cutting the collar off my shirt and then I’d have a costume so people would know I’m a Buddhist.  Yeah, I’d look like the Dalai Lama.  I think when I get out I’ll go over to India and hang out with him.  I could tell him how it is in prison and he will tell everyone how I rose above adversity and became the voice of Buddhism in America’s prisons.  I know, I’ll start a foundation, make a website.  I’ll tell everyone that I meditate for world peace.  I’ll put one of those funny-sounding names in front of my name so it will look like I’m really heavy, like the Buddhists in the magazines.  I’ll write a book and start endorsing everybody else’s books.

“Wait a minute, what was I doing?  The breath, the breath, okay.  I’m back now, I got it.  In and out and make a mental note every time you catch yourself thinking.  In and out, in and out, in and out, that guard just shined that damn flashlight in my eyes and he did it on purpose, I know he did.  I don’t like him anyway and I can see he’s going to interfere with my program.  I got to hurry up, my cellie will be back from the yard soon.  I wonder if I have enough time to check out that new porn magazine?  That new homosexual that hit the yard the other day looks pretty good.  What’s going on, I never think like that.  I can’t say that stuff around the guys; they’ll think I’m gay.  What if I was gay?  Stop it man, stop it!

“In and out, in and out, in and out.  How should I act on the tier now that I’m a Buddhist?  I’ll be real cool and put my palms together whenever I see my friends and kind of bow.  That’ll impress them.  What’s that the Buddhists say, Om Many, or Monty?  Something like that, I wonder what it means?

“Back to the breath, in and out, in and out, in and out.  I think I’ll write my family and let them know I’m a Buddhist now.  My mom would like that I’m into some kind of religion.  She might send me more money.  My Granny would roll over in her grave.  It was only Jesus for her.  I miss my Granny, she really loved me, I wish I was back little again and spending weekends with her.  I loved her feather beds and crisp, clean white sheets.  On Sundays, after church, she would kill a chicken from her coop and cook it.  I can remember how good it tasted.  I’m sad now.

“In and out, in and out, in and out, I need more books too.  Jimmy has a book I want to read.  He said he got a buzz off of it.  When I read those books I feel real good.  If I could just keep enough books I’d be all right.  I wonder if it counts if you just read good books, maybe if they are written by the heavyweights like that Kornfield dude.  I see his name on everything.  Man, I bet he can do this stuff in his sleep.

“Wait, back to the breath, in and out, in and out, I’m okay, in and out, don’t force the just come and go by itself and it’s messing me up to have to help it.  I can see this ain’t goin’ to work.  I need another way to do this.  Maybe there’s another book I can get with a different method.  There I go again!

“Back!  Back, in and out, come on, in and out, in and out.  I wonder if God approves of this stuff?  I wonder if it counts with Him.  I’ve sure done some bad stuff and I wouldn’t want to waste time with this and lose out on heaven.  Maybe I should quit until I find out.  That’s what I’ll do.  Who should I ask?  A preacher will probably tell me this stuff is from the devil and I shouldn’t do it, Jesus wouldn’t like it.  How would a preacher know that?

“Back!  Back, quit trippin’ man, I can do this.  In and out, in and out, in and out, in and out, yeah, I got it now.  I got to get a quick peep at the clock.  I know my time should be up soon.

"WHAT?  FIVE MINUTES?  You've got to be joking!  Five minutes is all I been at this?  Jesus H. Christ!  That's it?  I'm writin' Margot Neuman and tellin' her to find me another way to do this.  This is just a waste of time.  My time is way too valuable to be wastin' it with this drama.  I didn't want to be a Buddhist anyway.  I think I'll check out those Hairy Krisna dudes and see what the Beatle, George Harrison, was into.  This stuff doesn't work.

Papa Joe

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