A Short Stoic Story…
Off in the obscure corner of a large desert property backed by large mountainous terrain sits a private corrections facility. The owner is the son of a wealthy tycoon and the conditions of profit over rehabilitation is clear throughout. The desert sands are mixed with a clay of the land gives it a radiant orange pigment that blankets everything in its dusty orange cloud. From a distance this correctional facility can resemble that of a loan Cheeto puff in a barren wasteland. This facility is also the home to some of the most violent offenders and the one with the most elaborate library oddly enough.
“To be like the rock that the waves keep crashing over. It stands unmoved and the raging of the sea falls still around it.” -Marcus Aurelius
Closing the book and shaking his head saying under his breath, “it’s not that simple.” Feeling like he is going to vomit.
“What did you say to me?!” A large man stands over Len with his imposing figure blocking the light from the window above and looking for any reason to start something. The two delinquents behind the large man circle around to the sides of Len who is now pinned to the table he sits at. Len swallows his nausea.
Keeping his head down staring at the book in front of him spelling the title in his head over and over waiting for these men to move along…
m- e- d- i- t- a- t- i- o- n- s.
“I am speaking to you!” The large man slamming his hand on the metal table looming over top of Len like a lion having pinned his prey. The other two men begin to chuckle and crack their knuckles and roll their shoulders in preparation.
Looking up from his book realizing they weren’t leaving Len says, “I wasn’t speaking to you.”
Again in his head… m- e- d- i- t- a- t- i- o- n- s.
“Then who was you speaking too?!” The man despondently asks.
“He must be talking to himself.” The other two delinquents chime in like a noxious ring tone.
“Oh you’re a crazy milk toast aren’t you?” The large man beckons.
“Guys, I am simply reading and nothing else.” Len laments.
All three men look up at the camera as it turns away as they all grab one of the heavy law books on the table Len was reading. Gripping them tight ready to beat this fresh inmate for being fresh; a man who works in the library walks up to Len sensing some misdoings. He approaches with his cart from the other side of the table.
“Hey Len, I found the other law volume you wanted,” handing Len a book of Shakespeare knowing the three idiots wouldn’t know the difference.
“Oh…” quivering a bit with his breath smelling of adrenaline Len responds, “thank you I was looking for this one.”
The three men walk away knowing that getting in trouble by the staff is a major problem for any inmate. Len has dodged that bullet as it were as the men leave they gesture they will find Len again. Panicked on what do do he sat shaking.
“I read your case file.” Jon the librarian says still standing across the table from Len.
“How?!” Len looking up asks.
“Thats not important. I see that you have started to familiarize yourself with law. Why is that?” Jon asks.
Looking around as if he is about share a dark secret… “I’m innocent.” Covering his mouth with his hand.
“Oh I see well…” pointing at the table in the corner with a mix of races sitting together with a stack of law books and files in the middle of the table. “Those men are innocent too. Can I give you some advice?” Jon offers.
“Please do.” Len says feeling a slight relief.
“Prisons especially like this there are two types of inmate. One knows they aren’t innocent and may say they are to a lawyer, but choose to play basket ball and games in the yard they choose what side they are on usually based on their complexion and they assimilate.” Jon posits.
“And the second type?” Len hanging on to each word hoping the other option is better.
“The second, believes they are innocent despite being locked up. This person will be drawn to the library as it can be a momentary tranquil spots for brief moments. The second type will be drawn here hopefully to find an answer…. That’s you.” Jon explains.
“How do you know I am innocent?” Len asks.
“Since you got here you only spent free time here or in your cell. Staff members talk. What I recommend is that you get smart on law and its practices because your case is pretty clear you may be being railroaded.” Jon offers.
“Where do I start. First of all Meditations by Marcus Aurelius is a great start for the mind and soul. For law goto that table with those men and tell them your story.” Saying as he points at the table of men who are now looking back at them.
Snapping out of his memory as Len sits in his bunk with Meditations in hand. Len thinks to himself, “reading that passage of being rocks among the restless sea became my mantra after that day I almost got beaten with law books. Not a day goes by that I don’t reminisce on who I came into prison as.” Closing the book just in time for the alarms to sound and a loud buzz can be heard sounding through the whole facility. “Its free time,” Len thinks and like always heads straight to the library as he has for the last five years looking for his innocence in those law books.
Making his way to the library Len moves his shoulders around and is sore from all the push ups he did this morning. One hand gripping Meditations now which is his personal copy which was gifted by his daughter for his last birthday and the other massaging a knots in his shoulder blade.
Len thinks to himself as he walks by all the cells as all other inmates are just barely getting up as Len has been up for hours. Operating on five hours a night of sleep Len has established quit the system for being locked up. Thinking to himself on the way to the library, “oooooffff too many push ups this morning, but I got some solid reading hitt training in.”
As Len makes his way by each cell most inmates give him subtle nods of respect as he has become some what of a therapist for some of the worst offenders.
Len drifts off into thought, “there’s Charle’s,” waving at him as he passes and Len receives a warm smile quickly followed by a snarl so no one sees him acting weak. “That man and his followers almost beat my head in my first week and the library wasn’t their last attempt.” Len thinks back when he stood up to the three men, “I was working in the laundry room minding my business just getting through another day when those three emerged from the darkness like monsters in the night. Surrounding me like they did before, but this time I was ready as I had taken a heavy law book with me as I did each day in preparation. Guards don’t think much of carrying books with you until that day. Once surrounded I slowly grabbed the book from under the dirty linen and without hesitation cracked on of the followers breaking his jaw. As I backed into the corner readying myself for another swing Charles approached me like a lion approaching prey. I then suddenly asked… Why are you doing this?” As if by some kind of spell he stopped and what seemed like the first time he thought. For the next hour I threw every single psychological tactic I would take with my schizophrenic father while in his episodes. It worked and turns out that lots of these men weren’t asked questions of the wrong decisions they made.”
Once at the library Len nods to Jon and sits at the table with all the other “Innocent Until Proven Guilty Party” as they coined it. This table was of men who knew to little to find that they were being set up in some manor.
One of the men sitting down asked Len, “when do your therapy sessions start today doc?”
“In an hour and starting with Charles!” Len says pleased.
“Wait, wait!” Jon yells from his counter. “Did you say Charles?! The man who almost bashed your head in with one of those law books there?” Jon gestures pointing at the thick books. The other men sitting around waiting for Len’s answer knowing all to well that getting mixed up with the wrong people is bad.
“Yes, that Charles. I have been speaking to him about his anger and what he should be learning from his sentence. He has patched up his relationship with his son a bit and wants to provide when he is out. Yes he slips up and beats up someone from time to time, but not as often lately.” Len states. “Also I’m much stronger than I was when I came in I don’t only read in my cell.” Len says laughing throwing some comedic air punches.
The men sitting around are amazed that Charles could even vaguely change. Jon speaks up again, “what are you searching for in these therapy sessions for other inmates?”
“I’m selfishly curious and I think most these men are misunderstood and weren’t given the opportunity to succeed. I am showing them that they have even a small amount of potential so that this life isn’t the only one. Charles even recently got his GED. He didn’t think he was even smart enough for it before talking.” Len explains.
“It also took you separating a mans jaw with the second volume of American Law and Procedure,” Jon says holding up the volume still stained with that lemming’s blood.
“Welll…” Len says as the whole table and Jon laugh.
“Alright men,” Len says clearing his throat, “while doing my morning push ups and reading I thought of a question for us all.” Curious eyes perk up around the table as Len lets some suspense build.
Jon from his counter says, “get to it I got books to put away soon.” As Jon continues scanning returned books back into the system. The faint beep in the background works like a metronome to Len’s question.
As if in some speakeasy poetry slam Len stands up placing on foot on the table Captain Morgan style and asks, “Is it unfortunate that this life has been put on our plate? Or is it a gift?” Len states and sits back down allowing it to sink in.
Rumbling is heard around the table as the men ponder to themselves muttering thoughts under their breaths. Jon from his counter says, “Unfortunate!” Saying so boldly and continuing, “that is for all of you men at that table at the very least.”
“What do you all think?” Asks Len not wanting to influence their natural responses.
After each of the other five men take the time to think they all come to the same conclusion of, “Unfortunate!” They say in unison.
“Right!” Jon proclaims from his counter.
“No.” Len says.
“No?! Your life was flipped and when I met you sitting at that table over there,” pointing at the same metal table in the middle of the library, “you were a puddle about to be beaten onto another puddle!”
“No. We are fortunate!” Len says standing again to gather attention. “We… Are… Fortunate. We are alive. We believe. And we are strong. I was a weak, agreeable man with no real prospects in my life. Once I was locked up something I didn’t commit I was frightened. Instead of cowering and withering away or meshing with this environment I chose to come here to this library. As you all did. You felt something inside wanting answers.” Len takes a minute to drink so water as that all sinks in.
“Did you know that this is one of the most studded libraries in the state? Common Jon you literally make more than most salary wise because these books are expensive and vast especially in law. Why is that Jon?” Len prompting Jon sarcastically and waving his hand to move his words along.
“Who told you how much I make!” Jon retorts.
“You just did!” Len says as then men laugh, “so then…”
“Okay yes…” Jon sighs. “I am the highest paid librarian probably anywhere because this library is so vast.” Jon says rolling his eyes.
“Why is it so vast?” Len says again waving his hand looking for the right answer to make his point.
“It’s vaaasssttt…” says sarcastically and sighs, “it’s vast because the original warden that built this correctional facility believed in rehabilitation and…” Jon get cut off by Len.
“…and he thought that if the problem of prisons was the lack of education given to an individual the why not have the most studded place to learn here where it’s needed most.” Len says proudly.
The men around the table look a bit confused. Len continues, “we are all wrongly convicted and were sent to a place with the best resources for one to free themselves. Gentlemen we are sitting in the key to our freedom and always have been.” Len holds his hands out wide to presenting the vast potential around them.
Taking a moment to gather himself serious Len says, “I can say that I am a better man than I came in as despite being innocent.” Just then Charles walks in and places his large hand on Len’s shoulder.
Like a sandbag slung over Lens shoulder Charles asks, “are you ready doc?”
“Oh Charles! What did we talk about walking up behind people.” Len admonishes.
“Oh!” As if remembering Charles tries again, “hey Len and crew… I am ready for our session.” Stumbling on the words Charles gets out as much pleasantries as he can.
“Well done and yes I am as well Charles.” Len says beginning to walk to the same table they met at as Len turns back to the men saying, “think about what I said.”
Once Len steps away with Charles a man approaches the “Innocent Table” his name is Jack.
All the men stand up exclaiming, “Jack!”
“Hey guys, sorry about my absents.” Jack says with a warm smile and an odd look of peace on his face.
Jon walking by with his book cart as he is putting them away approaches Jack saying, “Oh great! You’re out!”
“Out?!” The table of men say.
Jon continues, “yes I heard from the guards that you were placed into special housing for a fight or something? Wasn’t your case a few days ago?”
Jack clears his throat, places his books and papers down and sits with the men at the table. “Alright gentlemen, yes I was his special housing, solitary confinement or the pit as we like to say for a month. They said I was mixed up in a fight and that I had resisted against a guard so I was sent to solitary confinement. Being that my court appearance was the beginning of this month the warden didn’t want to loose a pay check knowing we had been solving my case.”
Jon speaks up, “so just because you are one of the harder workers and you could be freed that the warden is delaying you getting to court? Does he have that right?!”
“Thats my theory, but it was not all for not.” Jack then points down on his papers layered between the pages of a law book.
Jack continued, “that time in solitary confinement of 23 hours of my day in a cement cube for a month I gained two things. One I got in very good shape. Two I solved my case.” Jack pulls out the papers and passes them around.
The table rumbles with astonishment and pride. Just then Jack sees Len approach with Charles under his arm crying and wiping away tears. As if it was a gift for him being freed from solitary the sight of Charles crying made it all worth it. Charles quickly wipes his tears and adorns his mad dog resting face and charges out of the library.
“Jack!” Len says with pure joy. “I loaded your lawyer up with all that we had on your case and they have extended it so you can be at the next one.”
“I heard about that, thank you.” Jack laments.
“It was all of us… but no problem we are in this together. I overheard special housing huh?” Len shaking his head and looking down patting Jack on the shoulder.
Quickly turning to the other men Len states, “now men take notice here that this can happen to any of us. All of our cases have holes in them and we have solved a great deal. Which means we all could be tossed away into solitary before our hearing for no reason at all. We need to learn how you kept it together in there Jack so that we may survive as well.”
Jack takes a moment to gather his thoughts, “honestly men it is pure unpolluted chaos in there. Constant noise with brief moments of quiet as men throw hissy fits slamming around like a baby chimp. That sound echoes through all cells and vibrates into your bones. I would sit on a rolled up mattress for some blunting. Other times the people neighboring your cell would yell the most vial things to you hoping to get a rise from you. They only know what they briefly see of you when you pass their cells. So the comments after a while become tasteless and not creative at all. In the beginning it gets a rise out of you, but what I learned is to shove pieces of my mattress in my ears and focus on my work.”
“Wait, so you were forced to learn patience?!” Len interrupts… “sorry, continue.”
Chuckling off the question Jack continues, “yes, I was forced to learn patience mainly because I had my case to solve and could get a constant rotation of books from here. I would often see some of your guys notes you forgot in some of them which actually worked as inspiration when I was stuck. Len is right we all can survive in there and see it as a time of study and self improvement, but that is easier said than done. Routinely other men would loose their minds to the constant noise and taunting and some would even attempt to kill themselves. What this told me was it is how you treat the time rather than how long you will be in there. I have emerged a smarter and more confident man especially in my case.” Jack says slamming his hand on the table in rejoice.
“HEY! Quiet.” Jon tells from him counter.
“Sorry Jon I got excited.” Jack retorts.
Standing up quickly startling the other men assuming an attack Len begins rummaging through his personal copy of Meditations… “ahhh I can’t find it, but I know it roughly by heart. Marcus Aurelius wrote to himself as a journal. What he mentions about misfortune is perfect for right now.”
Len rubes his temples to recover the words…. “We have to ask ourselves men that in times of great misfortune we can realize that if the misfortune doesn’t disrupt our ability to choose how we act then there is no misfortune at all. Look at this table all of us were dealt a hand not fair to us. Instead of picking a gang and playing in the yard we choose to learn, exercise in our cells and come here daily to work together with groups on the outside doing the same work. We will more than likely continue this work when we are released. This experience did not hinder us; instead it allowed us to become better than we imagined we could. We continue to act as free men despite being locked up.”
Jon then breaks up Len’s speech, “you guys have ten minutes til its back to your cells!”
“Got it.” Len responds.
Len turning back around to the table he says to the men, “alright ten minutes…” gathering his thought. “We all need to take a piece of Jack’s research he did in special housing. Once we have all combed each chunk and assessed no holes in the case we will be ready for Jack’s hearing despite him being present this time.”
Nods of comradery and a common purpose are shared among the table. The men start to break apart Jack’s notes putting together all the seemingly random scraps of ideas on bits of paper with their corresponding pages in books and pages he wrote. Once divided Len stands up knowing he only has a moment before they go off to their cells.
“Gents I want to leave you with this last thought. When times are roughest or a Charles is beating you with a law book you can find solace in knowing that it was no misfortune as long as you endured it and survived. Surviving and making efforts to thrive despite circumstance is great fortune. That is the type of wealth no one can take from you.” Len finishes just as.
BUZZZZZ! The alarm goes off and all the men shove the scraps of scribing and printed pages of law books into their personal books. Like well organized squirrels these men got up and brought their spoils back to their trees.
At each of their cells the men lay in their bunks waiting for bed time to begin and their studying to start. Each of them patiently wait for the moment the big lights are shut down and the facility is left with a faint night light glow. It isn’t light, but isn’t dark enough either. Its like that so the guards can always see what you are doing. Most men place shirts on their face to block the light. Those in this case who want to read have become accustom to reading in dim lighting. Like an owl brushing up on law they men did so as a bed time story. A large thud is heard ringing through the facility as the lights disengage. Then mens eyes slowly adjust and they all begin their study as they do every night and each morning.
This story was inspire by Marcus Aurelius. The passage forty-nine of his fourth book of Meditations:
“To be like the rock that the waves keep crashing over. It stands unmoved and the raging of the sea falls still around it.”
“-It’s unfortunate that this has happened. No. It’s fortunate that this has happened and I’ve remained unharmed by it-not shattered by the present or frightened of the future. It could have happened to anyone. But not everyone could have remained unharmed by it. Why treat the one as a misfortune rather than the other as fortunate? Can you really call something a misfortune that doesn’t violate human nature? Or do you think something that’s not against nature’s will can violate it? But you know what its will is. Does what’s happened keep you from acting with justice, generosity, self-control, sanity, prudence, honesty, humility, straightforwardness, and all the other qualities that allow a person’s nature to fulfill itself? So remember this principle when something threatens to cause you pain: the thing itself was no misfortune at all; to endure it and prevail is great good fortune.”
Mr. Sods 