Hitting Reset
Some days require starting over
My commitment to intentional living means that I start each day with a positive and productive agenda that fills every waking hour. There are forces here, however, that couldn’t care less about my plans. Shakedowns, lockdowns, and all manner of downers are a part of prison life—not to mention the random interventions of my fellow residents, many of whom have nothing to do and all day to do it.
I have learned to be adaptable and resilient, taking to heart the words of modern philosopher Mike Tyson, who said, “Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face.” On days when life punches my plans in the face, I’ve also learned to hit the reset button. This morning presented an opportunity to practice.
I like to get started each morning with quiet time, including reading, prayer, reflection, and journaling. When the weather permits, it’s enjoyable to have this session at a picnic table on the front lawn of the camp. Out I go—books, journal, and cup of coffee in hand—to get equanimous and properly stimulated.
I sat down today and, in a matter of moments, was under siege by head gnats, flies, mosquitoes, mayflies, and other winged agitators. It’s peak bug season, and I know better than to show up defenseless. Back inside I went to don a hat and drench my upper half in Bug Soother.
“Okay, now I’m ready to get centered,” I thought confidently. The birds were singing a serenade for my period of serenity. Except one bird didn’t get the memo, and instead of giving me the gift of song, gave me a healthy dollop of crap in my lap. Ahhh, I see that you’ve recently been eating buckthorn berries, little birdie. Isn’t that precious? Back inside I went again to change my pants.
“Third time’s the charm,” I thought as I retook my seat and cracked open my book. Two sentences in, and a pack of the institution’s other outdoor creatures—the camp’s landscaping crew—arrived as if on cosmic cue to mow and weed-whack the lawn in the most raucous way possible. It was at that moment that I finally took the hint about my plan for the morning. I opened my spiritual toolbox and pulled out a highly useful tool. It’s the short version of the Serenity Prayer, and it goes like this:
F@&% IT
Since the Universe is clearly having a goof with us at moments like these, the Reset Prayer is best delivered with a smile and a chuckle, followed by a deep breath and letting go.
And so I reset. I packed up my books, journal, and coffee, and went back inside to one of my other hiding places to begin again. Life and people are going to do their thing. I’m grateful that I have tools to respond by resetting—keeping me aligned with my core value of equanimity—rather than reacting and ruining a day that can still be well lived, regardless of whether or not it unfolds according to my agenda.
Postscript
I typed up this post in an email to send to my son Jack for him to publish on Substack. When I sent the email, the antiquated BOP system glitched, causing what I typed to disappear into the ether. Random occurrence? Methinks not. Some days, that’s just how it is. Thank God for the reset button!