Soon after I dedicated myself to a daily meditation practice, my understanding of “self” completely shifted. I soon came to believe that there is no such thing as suffering in the present moment. It only exists when we think about the past and the future ― or with the wanting, analyzing and worrying that often accompanies thinking about them. I realized that the source of my many previous problems was greed ― my greatest expression of desire.

I had spent so much of my life wanting more and I came to understand that my desire took many forms including gluttony, selfishness and a constant dissatisfaction with the abundance that I already had. I began to journal about my meditation practice and the questions I had about who I was and how I had lived my life before getting arrested.

Day 15 of 180. A few questions that surfaced during my morning meditation today: Why is it that I’m selfish? Why is there such resistance to my giving when I know it brings me so much joy? Why do I lie, compulsively, fabricating an existence that I haven’t lived ― and wouldn’t want to live? Why do I steal, when I’ve always had enough? Why is it so hard for me to give, when that is my most significant purpose? It feels good to write these things, to admit to their existence. I lie. I steal. I take. These are the things I would like to shed.

After a few weeks, I felt calmer, less angry and even less desperate for my time in prison time to pass. I came to understand that it doesn’t matter where my body is ― suffering and happiness exist only in the mind. Realizing this helped me regain my freedom, if not physically, then at least internally. I could, for the first time in my life, tap into my memory bank, into every moment I had lived before. I could close my eyes and be on top of a mountain I had visited in the Annapurna range in Nepal or cuddled in that hammock on the San Juan island where I had watched orcas play in front of me. My body was in prison, sweating and uncomfortable, but my mind was elsewhere and my heart was with all of my loved ones.

Mentally traveling to my best-loved moments in my life helped me stay sane as I served my sentence. I meditated every day, no matter what distractions I faced. I practiced yoga, even if only a few sun salutations, every day, no matter how little space I had or the awkward corners I crammed my body into so I didn’t kick anyone in the face.