I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas...Outside of Prison

 While walking the small yard between sets of working out, I mentioned to my friend and workout partner that I've been listening to Christmas music lately. Looking at me like I'd just said something crazy, he responded that I was probably the only prisoner in this prison listening to Christmas music. I doubt that's true, but his response reveals a common attitude in prison about holidays and special dates, like birthdays. If we don't acknowledge them, we can avoid the feelings of regret, nostalgia, and longing that accompany these special occasions. 

Besides the obvious reality that ignoring something doesn't make it less painful, I believe that resisting the inevitable pain only amplifies it. I've both tried to ignore reality and leaned into it, and by far, when I try to stuff pain, it only makes it worse. 

Prisoners cannot recreate, in prison, the joys of special occasions, like Christmases past; however, we can, and I argue should, find our own ways to create new joyful memories. Simply wallowing in self-pity and regret does nothing to honor those beautiful past memories. Nobody can take those from me. But when I am future focused, I recognize that today I can create new memories of joy. 

Newly created memories do not diminish the specialness of other memories. They only add more memories. We don't have to make value judgments about which is better. I can love the times I spent with my family in the past, for I treasure those memories with all that I am. But I can also love the times I've spent playing Euchre or Scrabble on a holiday in prison, or the joy I felt when another prisoner gave me a carefully wrapped gift of simple things from our commissary. 

I can love the times I've sat around with other prisoners in the chapel, singing Christmas carols together. I can smile when I remember the times I played Christmas songs on guitar alongside other prisoners on their guitars and keyboards. In fact, I can remember the first time I played a Christmas song on guitar, and how proud I felt. 

Yes, Christmases, and other holidays, are painful for most prisoners. But that pain doesn't have to be our only reality. Christmas songs develop new meanings. Christmas meals are uniquely prison: "noodle-dos," "bagel sandwiches," "wraps," and "nacho dos." And the true meaning of Christmas is less likely to get lost in the material "stuff" that consumes American consumers today. 

So, yeah. I'm listening to Christmas music, even as I write this. And while I do, I'm feeling longing, nostalgia, regret...and hope. I remember the beautiful moments of Christmas past. But I also look forward to creating new memories, both in prison and out. These things don't have to be mutually exclusive. 

I'm profoundly grateful for the blessings I have, even in prison. I'm grateful to still be loved by few, to be peaceful, and that joy can invade even one of the most depressing times and places in America: Christmastime in prison.