To the Beach

the jail

Going to the Beach

We sit cross-legged on the jail floor

“Outside” in the “rec” area

This is our ritual, our meditation practice together

Only a few inches of sunlight exposed, surrounded by high walls of thick concrete

An echo-chamber

Passing cars on the nearby highway sound just like the ocean

We close our eyes, and you say, “let’s go to the beach again.”

Strong back, soft belly, we adjust our posture

Opening our hearts, quieting our minds

Breathing mindfully as the waves crash

In

And

Out 

We could meditate at this beach for hours if the deputy would let us

But the metal door slams instead

The deputy yells loudly

Someone in distress is screaming back

“Help me! Help meeeee! Help meeeeeeeeeee!”

We hear them banging on their cell door

Come back to the breath.

Follow the breath.

The waves crash, as traffic passes

Trucks honk like a ship’s foghorn

Breathing in

Breathing out

At the beach