We're All Doing Time

I recently discovered my class plans for the original version of The WellBeing Project, taught at the Hamilton County Sheriff's Office—aka jail—in Chattanooga, TN, from autumn 2018 through spring 2019.

When we talk about well-being and personal development, we typically think about retreat centers or therapy offices—places specifically designed for that kind of work. But often, the deepest growth happens in unexpected places.

In January 2019, I was several months into using the project concepts with individuals in custody. These weren't polished presentations, but raw, honest conversations and nitty-gritty planning for how they would live each of the next seven days, tending their physical and psychological needs inside a crowded, windowless, cinder block cell.

Today, I'm sharing notes from one of those sessions. They were never meant to be public—just the message I planned to convey when I walked into that fourth floor classroom. Looking over them now, they speak to the universal human struggle to reconcile who we've been with who we could be.

Here are my notes from January 15, 2019 (slightly edited for clarity):

Notes to Incarcerated Wellbeing Project Participants

I looked everyone up and read your arrest info, as well as any news articles written about you. I haven't insisted you tell me specifically what got you in here, mostly because it doesn't really make a difference to me. But on the other hand–it kind of does. It matters that you can speak openly about what you've done. Not necessarily to me, but to yourself. It matters that you can talk about your history without denying or blaming anyone else. I'm not saying you alone are responsible for everything in your past. Many of us have complicated stories.

It's possible you're in here for a lesser offense than things you've done and never been caught for. Most of us have done things we "got away with." But they happened—and that shapes us too. We have to acknowledge those things to ourselves openly, not just stuff them down.

At the end of the day, it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks—including the judge.

I remember being terrified that a judge held the power to deny my rights as a mother. I remember living in absolute shock and fear that someone could terminate my ability to raise my children, even though I was innocent.

I became totally focused on trying to convince the judge I was a good mom. But the more I fixated on what someone else thought of me—even someone really important—the more it weakened my relationship with the truth. I felt hysterical, like I was begging her to believe me.

I was a good mom. I was a loving mom. But the more I focused on someone else's perception, the more I became unsure of my own. The more I obsessed, the less I mothered well.

If I could go back, I'd try to help myself see that the only opinion that really matters is my own. Having the strength to face the facts, believe them, and affirm myself—rather than needing others to affirm me—would have gone a long way in helping me find the peace that felt impossible at the time.

As long as we're trying to convince others, it means we've failed to convince ourselves. When you're fully convinced about who you are, you'll live a life that reflects it. No matter what.

Tonight, my hope is that you'll see your life is a reflection of what you think about yourself.

Do you think you're a valuable person who has something good to contribute to the world? Someone who deserves a life that's drama-free, crime-free, healthy and fulfilled? That's the truth, if you decide to see it.

You guys carry around a bunch of unpleasant labels.

Whenever I talk to law enforcement, they warn me not to believe anything you say—that you're master charmers and manipulators who'll say anything to get what you want.

You could lie to me, and chances are I wouldn't know it. But honestly, I don't care that much either. I'm not here to prove how much I care about you. I'm not here to convince you to live like I do. I'm only here to give you space and encouragement to believe in yourself. To reflect on who you are and decide if you want to continue being that person—or if you want to change.

If you want to change who you are, it's easier than you think.

It doesn't start with hard work and heroic effort. It starts with how you look at yourself.

Everyone has a smile and an asshole. Life would be pretty shitty if we only looked at people's backcrack. Instead, we usually look into each other's faces—and often see a smile. It doesn't mean the other side doesn't exist—it's just not what we choose to greet in them.

When you define yourself by all the things you don't like or accept about yourself or your life, you're doomed to dislike your life. Because that's where your attention always goes.

There are wonderful things about you. There are wonderful things about your life – even now. I've learned that from you. You've taught me to feel ecstatic about the sun on my face. You've taught me to appreciate standing up and walking into another room when I want to. Or into the woods. You've shown me that being locked up doesn't have to be misery – that the fewer the channels, the more you appreciate what you end up watching.

There is always something good to find. In life, and in yourself. And when you stare at those things long enough, they become your new reality.

This isn't about pretending you don't have a past. Or that you never committed a crime. But the only way to deal with truth is seeing it clearly in the context of the bigger picture.

You need to find the truth about who you are beyond the same old story that brought you here.

A Story About Karma

I told you last week that when you start tuning in to your own mind and thoughts—and begin making choices about those thoughts and energy—you get this crazy realization that it works. You get a taste of what it feels like to create your life instead of just ignorantly going along with whatever happens.

I thought I'd tell you a funny story about karma. See, karma is totally real, but we don't always see the direct results of what we put out there. We're still believing life happens to us, rather than understanding we're creating our own experiences.

So my husband's ex-wife and I had a pretty rough time getting used to things about a year ago. There was a bunch of tension between our homes, with my stepdaughter going back and forth. For a while, it was crazy intense. Things eventually settled down, but there were still remnants of tension left. We didn't have major beef anymore, but I wasn't thrilled about having her in my life.

One day my stepdaughter tells me that they'd come home, and her mom walks into her bedroom to find a pile of cat shit on her white bedspread. I laughed so hard. It was awful and funny, and I enjoyed it.

I swear to God, two weeks later I come home and there's a pile of cat shit in the middle of my white bedspread too. I was in total shock—grossed out, of course—but even more so, I knew karma had come back quick.

The energy you put out into the world really is what comes back to you.

If you live your life thinking about other people—hating them, judging them, hoping for them to accept you, whatever it is—you'll live trapped in a failing cycle, depending on others for something only you can make happen.

Your freedom isn't when you get out of here. Your freedom is when you choose it. When you choose to make the inside of your head a nice place to live. When you do that, the world will become a nicer place to you too.

Reflections Six Years Later

It's been over six years since I wrote those notes.

When I first walked into that jail, I thought I was there to help others—of course. But those concrete walls were a mirror—a reflection of the universal human struggle to face ourselves honestly.

We're all doing time in some way. Maybe not behind bars, but behind masks and pretenses and judgments. We get stuck in patterns of blaming others, avoiding hard truths, or defining ourselves by slivers of who we are. Sometimes we inflate, sometimes we deprecate – either way we're serving sentences of our own making.

The men in that room, despite having plenty of reasons to feel powerless, could still choose the one freedom no one could take away—the freedom to decide who they were on the inside.

I remember one participant who told me, "You've changed my life. You know how I know? Because the things I used to want to do to you, I don't want to do anymore."

Given that he was awaiting trial for violent sexual assault, there was a chilling gravitas to his intended compliment.

Of course, I didn't and couldn't change his life. He was changed because of the decisions he made in the privacy of his own mind. It's an honor to support that in any human being.

I'm convinced we all have those moments where we feel like we're at the mercy of judges—whether they're actual judges in courtrooms or just people whose opinions we've given way too much power over our lives. We become so fixated on convincing them that we're good, worthy, or innocent that we lose our grip on our own truth.

What would change if we stopped trying to prove ourselves to others and started facing ourselves honestly?

It takes uncommon courage to see yourself completely—the lipstick out front and the skidmarks in back—and then choose to accept the whole package. But that's the prerequisite to flourishing. And it is no more difficult than the suffering of never getting there.

Any path that doesn't lead you inside, is the wrong path.

A Note About Cancel Culture

Since writing the original notes above, I've had another reflection I wanted to add. It's about cancel culture.

If you agreed with what I encouraged those guys to do – look inside, see the whole spectrum of their humanity, build a future from a place of wholly accepting themselves... and also, how we can't spend our time convincing others of our value, because it only proves we're personally unconvinced...

Well, if you agree with those ideas, then you kind of have to question this cultural phenomenon of canceling others for perceived flaws or failings.

To be human is to fail. To be a great human is to fail and try again. To be the kind of human that makes the world a better place is to be the kind of human that keeps getting back up and keeps trying every time.

I genuinely don't understand how anyone can hope for a better world while rejecting the humans that populate it. We don't have to be best friends with people who harm or fail us in real ways. But we have to understand that harming and failing one another is part of the deal for our species. These unfortunate situations don't automatically make us evil, they prove our humanity. How we move forward, day after day, year after year, that's what determines our ultimate legacy.

I hope I'm making the point – canceling others can be just as harmful, maybe even more so, because we deny others the right to be human. And before we can advocate for any human rights, we have to first allow everyone to be human.

Figuring this shit out is hard. Even when you're doing it right. We're all humans with front sides and backsides. Maybe we could chill with the unnecessary hard parts and let that gorgeous future we're building get here a little quicker.

Remember that freedom isn't a change in circumstance—it's a change in perspective. It's available to you right now, wherever you are.

Cohort enrollment for The WellBeing Project is now open. Join us to explore how understanding and accepting your whole self can transform your life.

inner freedom, self-acceptance, personal growth, cancel culture, jail teaching, wellbeing, authenticity, karma, self-perception, facing truth, human transformation, personal responsibility, mental freedom, self-judgment, unconditional acceptance