Prison
Je viens de lire un témoignage fort intéressant :
My son did 10 years in prison. He has been out of control and on drugs for many years before his arrest. He was skinny, eyes sunken and hollow. He looked dirty even when he was clean shaven and showered. His attitude was nasty, rude and disrespectful. He was cocky and unpredictable.
Don’t get me wrong. I love my son but if he wasn’t my son I wouldn’t want to be left in a room alone with him. As a parent, and like most parents, we get blamed when our kids, no matter how old they are screw up. We are accused of not doing enough or doing too much. But in reality, we do everything that we can do for them. No matter how much a parent does to keep their child on the right path, we can only do so much. At some point the child has to put forth the effort.
I’ve read many times that once a child is 5 years old, the parents are competing against an army of peers and other influences that are much stronger than the parents who love them the most. I believe that.
The person my son was the day he was arrested was not the boy I had raised. He was angry at the world, addicted to drugs and unwilling to see his behavior. He was out of control.
The 10 years in prison allowed me to get a good night sleep without worrying about planning his funeral. I’m aware of the issues and dangers of prison but I also know that he wouldn’t be able to get away with his attitude in prison. Too many prisoners would see right through his bullshit and set him straight. And many did.
When he was out on parole he was not allowed to see me as I was the victim of his crime. He had committed arson. Yes, he deliberately set fire to my home and my business. Burned everything to the ground. He knew I wasn’t there at the time so it wasn’t considered attempted murder. He turned himself in the next day and in his confession his reason for the fire was because I was mad at him and he felt like I had no reason to be mad at him so he gave me a reason to be mad at him. It is still very hard trying to understand that.
During his 2 years on parole he stayed in a halfway house, he had to hold a job and he attended anger management and drug classes. When I first saw him once he was off parole his wasn’t the 24 year old punk with a bad attitude that blamed me for everything wrong in his life . He was a grown man. He was what I imagined he’d be when I looked at him when he was 14. He was kind hearted, motivated, full of energy for life. He looked healthy and his blue eyes shined like the sky. He was buff and had developed some healthy habits. He enjoyed cooking, eating healthy and being active.
He was not the same person he was when he was arrested. The 10 years he was in prison and around people who were living the life he had been living, helped him to see himself and his behavior. Although he never said it, it was obvious that he didn’t want to be that person anymore. Once the drugs were out of his system, he could see things much clearer. He wanted to live.
I wish I could say that now, 10 years after his parole, that he was still the person that he was, so full of life and focused on living life, but he isn’t. We all have to suffer the consequences of our behavior. His behavior labeled him a felon. Doors were shut. He couldn’t get jobs he wanted and most places won’t rent to felons. He was getting frustrated with trying to do something positive in a world that left him living in the environment he was trying so hard to avoid. He did find a good job and advanced with the company. He had to prove himself in the beginning, and he was grateful that the owner gave him the opportunity to prove himself. He met a girl and they moved into a nice home. All was good until the pandemic. Both were without work and confined to being together 24/7 and the relationship ended. His company went out of business. He had no job and no home. That was about .3 years ago. I saw him a month ago. He was back on drugs, skinny and out of control. He was angry at the world and basically feels like the world is against him. He is now 40. Nothing I say is going to help him. I can’t take him in. He is too unpredictable. His beautiful blue eyes are dark and full of rage. I can only hug him and tell him I love him. I do love him. He knows I love him. I know he loves me. He is living his life that he has chosen. He has a choice, why he chose this life is what I don’t understand. Maybe it’s the easier choice. I just wished he’d would have found it in himself to make a different choice. To fight for the life he wants instead of given in because he allows himself to be frustrated, angry and allows those emotions to control his life.
We get to decide how our day will be. We have that freedom to choose to have a great day or choose to have a crappy day where nothing goes right no matter how hard I try- just like yesterday and tomorrow Keillor be the same, poor pitiful me… your day sucks cuz you allowed it to suck. i Wish he could understand that he has more control over his life than he realizes.
Maybe tomorrow he will choose a different life for himself, maybe he is exactly where he wants to be. What ever he chooses it’s his to choose. I will always love my son unconditionally.
Je ne sais pas pour vous, mais pour moi, ça dérape vers la fin, et la femme révèle enfin son vrai visage. Je veux dire, un parent aimant ne dira pas que son gamin drogué est exactement là où il veut être, et qu'il a choisi de faire ça. Je suis bien placé pour savoir qu'on ne choisit pas de faire les conneries qu'on fait. On y est poussé par le karma, et si on ne croise pas un maître réalisé, au moins de loin, il n'y a aucune chance qu'on progresse vraiment. Le karma, c'est terrible, et je trouve encore plus terrible de le nier. Ce faisant, cette personne révèle son orgueil. Elle croit être meilleure que son fils parce qu'elle est une "meilleure" personne. Mais est-ce que c'est être une meilleure personne que les autres, que de s'attribuer ses mérites et de leur attribuer leurs échecs ? Je trouve ça lamentable. Peut-être bien que son fils s'est rebellé contre elle parce qu'elle était insupportablement bien pensante et patronizing. J'aime bien le début de ce témoignage, mais la fin m'écoeure. Si son gami est foutu, elle y est certainement pour une bonne part, mais comme ça lui ferait trop mal de le reconnaître, elle dit que c'est de sa faute à lui. C'est sûrement une bonne femme qui pratique la méditation, un infernal gibier de sangha.
Ensuite ne vous méprenez pas, je ne dis pas que c'est de sa faute. Elle est elle-même détrminée par son karma, et je le suis aussi. Je suis si peu fier de mes vies antérieures et présentes que je n'en dis que fort peu. Je suis un nullos et jhe sais parfaitement qu'il faut des milliers d'années dans le dharma pour évoluer un tant soit peu. Maître Philippe disait qu'on n'avance que d'un cheveu, en une vie. Mais je suis écoeuré quand même, et ce qui importe au final, c'est ce que j'en fais. Est-ce que dans ma méditation de tout à l'heure je vais y repenser en me disant que je la déteste ? Je crois que je vais plutôt penser à son pauvre gosse. Malheur à nous les hommes, qui sommes si bêtes.
Aparès il reste le côté intéressant du témoignage, où on voit que la prison a bonifié son fils (ce que je disais récemment sur les épreuves), et le fait qu'ensuite il a été dégoûté par un tas de c... qui se sont tous crus meilleurs que lui, exactement comme sa mère. Il n'avait pas une vocation de sainteté, c'est-à-dire de tendre l'autre joue, mais qui l'a ?
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