by Sara Hurley, Diamond Approach teacher
What inspired you to do this work?
For some years, I wanted to volunteer in a setting unrelated to my work as a Diamond Approach teacher. I was keenly aware that I was largely “preaching to the choir” and was mostly serving people who had means, interest and access to spiritual teachings. After a few years of holding the question, “where am I called, and where can I be of use” an opportunity arose to enter San Quentin Correctional Institute as a volunteer.
With Kiki Kessler’s invitation, guidance and encouragement, I began to work as a facilitator of a Wednesday night support group for men who had completed a drug and alcohol recovery program. The support group was partially staffed by San Quentin inmates, who had been trained and certified by the state as drug and alcohol recovery counselors, with outside facilitators coming in on a rotating basis with different skillsets that could be useful to the men.
The Wednesday night support group is a mixed race group—Whites, Hispanics, African Americans, Asians, and Native Americans—of 18 to 25 men. Most have murder convictions and are “lifers,” meaning their release date is not set. Many were sentenced as young men, and they’ve been in prison for 20 to 30 years. To earn their release date, they work extremely hard to demonstrate that they understand what led them to being in San Quentin, have taken full responsibility for their crime, and have rehabilitated themselves in a complete way—in body, soul, mind, and action.
From the first evening I was struck how sincere, humble, and present they were. Their education levels varied, as did their language skills and exposure to inner work concepts, but each had a true flame, and immediate access to the light and life of their true nature. Over a six-month period, we began to find our way together and build trust based on mutual respect and listening. I found within my own heart a sense of human kinship with them, and connected person-to-person, presence-to-presence with each man, each night.
Together we explored how to find our authentic self, within the mire and tragedy of personal history. We explored the terrain of feelings, both positive and negative, and essential feelings, and the challenges of feeling joy, compassion, empathy, and strength in a prison setting. We explored what identification means. We explored accountability. I found these men to be masters of accountability. They practice taking full responsibility for their lives in ways that it’s so easy to circumvent in the outside world. I introduced them to dyads and triads. Slowly we opened to exploring vulnerability, a taboo word for them in a paramilitary environment. They long for full access to the goodness of their being, and know that feeling vulnerable to themselves and each other is an important part of their humanity.
How does your practice support, nourish, and enable you to do prison work?
At first, I wondered what I had to offer the men, given the disparity of our backgrounds and life-situations. This is a unique group of men, deeply committed to working with themselves. I was humbled by their sincerity, genuine welcome, and dedicated listening. I wanted to give them principles and practices of inner work in a jargon-free language they could relate to—practices that could support them in their worst and best moments. That desire on my part, coupled with their warmth and sincerity toward me, has created a lively and trusting circle of exploration and meditation. I want to be present with each interaction in the prison, with each guard, each inmate, each staff member. That orientation, coupled with an open heart and clear mind, has made each visit a gift of learning and inspiration for me. I doubt that I would have such ease in the prison environment without having practiced the way I’ve been able to the last 30 years.
How have you been impacted by this aspect of your work in the world?
Working as a program volunteer in San Quentin has directly exposed me to complex social truths. First, it’s shown me the real, crushing social and economic injustice and racial bias inherent in our society. It’s shown me the unfairness of the three-strikes laws in the U.S. and the impact of that law on people of color, and others. It’s also shown me that some people can use the correctional system to heal themselves. Some inmates talk about being in “San Quentin—this healing place.” Being situated in the more liberal Bay Area, over the decades, San Quentin has responded to the community’s desires to be part of the education and rehabilitation work in the prison. Repeatedly in this circle of men, I’ve seen where the spiritual need is strong, with the only other choices being “soul-killing” choices, the human light of truth and awareness can shine so brightly it dims everything around it.
In what ways do you see those you work with being impacted?
These men have turned to the truth. They soak it up, they run with it, they hold on to it, they cherish it. They sincerely try to go all the way with their practices and their inquiries. Recently I saw a PBS clip with San Quentin men talking about their “Brief but Spectacular Takes” on their crimes. A couple of the men speaking are in our program. It’s so moving to see their integrity and ease now, knowing the depth of the darkness and torment from which they have emerged. I’m sure I have been more impacted than they have been.
What are the biggest challenges you’ve faced in the prison environment and how have you negotiated those challenges?
Every now and then I have to step back and take a break, re-fresh my energy. I have to let my heart take in the depth of my connection with these men and the ways we have touched each other. Many of them are people I now care deeply about, and I’d be excited to know how they fare in their lives once they are released.
What has been the single most important realization that has supported this work for you—and for those you work with?
I know, without elaboration, qualification or doubt that we are our basic nature, our true nature, and that this nature is the fundamental ground for each and every moment of life. I know we are helped by a skilled and kind approach to each other and ourselves. I know the light of awareness, love and understanding can break through in the most surprising and unexpected ways. No matter what the men are confronting, I have faith in them, and faith in the goodness of accompanying them in their journey, and I believe that has been a blessing for me and for them.