“I Bow to You” | By Alexander Bolling

Last Updated: May 28, 2024By

It’s hard to have a good goodbye in prison. This is a place that sours the sweetest experiences. I watched as Kathleen struggled to hold her tears captive behind her smile. It was our last day of yoga class. Our group had whittled down to Kathleen — our instructor — and three amateur yogis. MCI-Concord was inching closer to closing down and each day inmates were being shipped out in bunches. We sat, legs crossed, Kathleen facing the three of us as she issues a heart felt parting message. Hands to heart center, I bow my head and return her namaste.

There is a hold on the movement to return from class as inmates in the secure adjustment unit are moved to the yard for recreation. This gives the class a few more minutes to mingle with our beloved instructor. I go to shake her hand, and the closer I get to her, the closer the recreation officer gets to us. I don’t know if he’s hoping to overhear our conversation or if he is satisfied knowing that his presence sullies the atmosphere. He’s been there for the entire class, but while we were actually doing yoga he had nodded off for a nap.

Now, as I shake Kathleen’s hand he pretends not to be concerned with my actions, but his disapproving look tells another story. “Kathleen, thank you again for everything. I really appreciate you!” I stressed my words, by what I wanted to say was, “You saved my life.” Her eyes are glassy as she smiles at me. It’s almost as if she knows what I mean by everything.

Of course, there is no way she can know what I mean. I began taking yoga only a couple of weeks before my mother passed away. I almost quit in the beginning. Not because of the physical challenge, but because I wasn’t sure if I would be able to dedicate myself to anything after losing my mother. I missed one week — the first Wednesday after learning of my mother’s death. The following Wednesday was the day of my mother’s memorial service. If mindfulness had any use for me, this was the time to find out. I didn’t tell Kathleen what was going through my mind that day. I just followed her instructions and tried to be present on the mat.

It turns out the theme of the day’s practice was release. The focus was on letting go of things in life that do not serve us. What did I need to let go of? What wasn’t serving me? My first thought was what I was losing, what I didn’t want to let go of. It led me to think about what I needed to keep. The love, the strength, the lessons, the good memories, the hope. This helped clarify what needed to go: the guilt, the fear, the doubt. I went through the motions and left the class feeling cleansed. It was then that I knew I had to stick with the practice of yoga and mindfulness.

Our class had two instructors who would come in and lead the practice on an alternating schedule. When Kathleen was out, Charlie was leading the class. On some weeks we were lucky to have both instructors in at the same time. Either way, yoga had become a must. Aside from the physical benefits, it was mentally refreshing. One hour in the middle of the week when I could flush out all of the negativity inherent in prison, hit the reset button and clear away the built up stress.

It seemed like I had to answer the same question every Wednesday at 1 p.m.. “Where are you going — the yard?” a friend would ask. “Nah, I gotta go get my yoga on!” My response always came with a pose. Usually a warrior two or a tree, and always with a smile. Sometimes I got a look that seemed to question my mental stability. My close friends would just laugh as they remembered my routine, even if they would be asking the same question next week.

MCI Concord

The author recieving his BA in Media, Literature and Culture from Emerson College via the Emerson Prison Initiative in 2022.

Now, the exodus from Concord was gaining momentum, we were told that it would be our last class. Charlie treated the previous class as if it were the last, so we had something of a goodbye. This time the finality was certain. Kathleen chose to keep her words short, because, as she said, she gets teary. After expressing hope that she would see us again, she assured us she would remember us regardless.

I wanted to speak as freely as my instructor, but the looming surveillance of the recreation officer stymied my words. Not that I was going to say anything against the rules, but I felt an intrusion on an otherwise intimate moment. I wanted to thank Kathleen, and Charlie, for helping me to keep my sanity. At the time of my life when I was most likely to break down, yoga helped me keep it together.

The past few years I have experienced a chaotic series of upheavals. I’ve said goodbye to friends, to program coordinators and to my mother. Soon I will be saying goodbye to MCI-Concord as well. With all the changes that have occurred and continue to occur, my only source of grounding was myself is my yoga and mindfulness practice. With so much stripped away in so little time, I was left bare. Just me — the me beneath all of the ideas about who I am. Looking inward has been enlightening. I discovered strength and resiliency that was crucial to my journey. And yoga helped me reach deep down inside where I found peace.

I bow to you is the literal translation of namaste. It is a recognition of the divine essence in each of us. It is why Kathleen understood me, even as I held back my words. Namaste.

ecotherapy

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