Freedom!

         Jarvis Masters is a Buddhist on death row. He was not a Buddhist prior to incarceration, but rather discovered the practice during his time in prison at San Quentin in California. Meditation and mindfulness practice have helped him navigate his isolation, maintain peace in the face of the continuous aggression and suffering all around him, and deal with the anxiety of court proceedings surrounding the appeals of his conviction. Masters maintains his innocence and a great deal of other people agree with him.

        I came across Masters' story in David Sheff's book The Buddhist on Death Row, which chronicles Masters' life, his imprisonment, and his efforts to gain freedom, paralleling each of these with his jailhouse conversion to and practice of Buddhism. The book maintains an interesting balance of presenting Masters' unflinching work to overcome his past and present trauma through meditation and mindfulness while also giving a clear introduction to Buddhist ideas. Aside from the engaging personal element of the story is the higher philosophical question of the nature of freedom. At one point, Masters remarks that the discipline and insight he has gained through meditation actually make him freer than people "on the outside." As he recounts to those who visit him in prison, "we can free ourselves without ever leaving our cells."

        It's an interesting question: what truly constitutes freedom? In a political climate where a certain segment of the population sees being required to wear a mask as an unacceptable infringement on personal liberty, delving into what it might actually mean to be "free" feels like a worthwhile endeavor. Some behavioral psychologists, evolutionary biologists, and philosophers would contend that this is a nonsense question: no one is ever really free due to the overriding influences of genetics and culture. I don't expect to settle any of that here, but given the transformations people have been known to undergo (Jarvis Masters, for instance) saying we are completely without freewill seems like an overstatement. From that vantage, it might be more interesting to ask what freedom really is, whether it is something primarily internal (being able to control one's own actions or state of mind) or external (having as much choice of action or range of movement as possible).

         When I used to teach a class called "Eastern Thought," we'd start with an ancient text called the Yoga Sutra by a philosopher named Patanjali. Those used to Yoga as primarily an exercise regimen might be surprised to learn that the practice, at least in its original Indian context, is about disciplining the mind first and foremost, and any bodily practices are aimed at reaching the mind through the body. One achieves release (moksha) by elevating the mind to be able to overcome all the mundane physical circumstances it might encounter. Masters' brand of Tibetan Buddhism is similar: freedom is judged by control of one's own reactions and inner state, and any negative outward environmental factors one finds are to be seen as opportunities to cultivate the inward practices.

        Speaking broadly, Western culture (particularly American culture) has by far emphasized an external definition of freedom. (One former student in that Eastern Thought class even remarked, "In the U.S., we're big on choice, not so much on discipline.") By this analysis, regulation and external control are the enemy and the absence of those constrictions equals freedom. Hence, we see rebellions against kings and mask mandates alike.

        From the point of view of those, like Patanjali and Masters, who see freedom as an internal state, external freedom really isn't freedom at all. If freedom is defined by unfettered action and choice and being able to do what I want, then conceivably I am more free if I have ten options to choose from as opposed to two. As befits a capitalist, consumerist society, we then perform our freedom by demanding more and more choices, amassing them like any other commodity. Freedom becomes something to consume and accumulate like an iPhone or a bigger house. The difficulty arises when, like other possessions, attachment ensues. If freedom is a possession to quantify, it can be taken away or reduced by something as simple as reducing my options from ten different iPhones to eight. One lives in constant fear of others regulating their choices, and the greater the number of choices, the greater the fear. The more "freedom" I have, the less free I am. French Existentialist philosopher Jean Paul Sartre thought something like this, even arguing that we are "condemned" by freedom. (And if you haven't watched Monty Python's sketch on Jean Paul Sartre, which touches on freedom, you really should.)

        Is there a way to make these two notions of freedom work together? What if we see the internal freedom of discipline as a prerequisite for the external freedom of choice? It's a bit of a shift in topic (I'm known to make strange linkages at times), but I would argue that's what we see in the famous movie (and one of my favorites) The Shawshank Redemption.

        The main character, Andy Dufresne, has been incarcerated for murders he didn't commit. Though the situation is certainly grim, he develops and maintains an incredible sense of equanimity, for instance helping another prisoner earn a GED and building a prison library, all the way chiseling through his cell wall a few grains at a time. Eventually, he tunnels his way out of the prison and makes his escape. During his time in prison he's developed and defended a robust internal freedom, which prepares him for the external freedom he achieves toward the end of the film. Perhaps partly due to these themes, the film has risen to much greater popularity even than when it debuted in the mid-1990s.

        So, perhaps the dichotomy between these types of freedom is the wrong question after all. Instead, maybe we should be asking if we'd all be more apt to enjoy and make the best use of our external freedom after developing the internal freedom of self-discipline. Jarvis Masters would say yes, and he's spent half a lifetime on the subject.

        That's all for now. Until the next time, take care.