I think I may have lost my allegorical virginity and I can see why all the best parables involve animals. There I was, sat on the bench outside my unit having a coffee at around 6-30 am (one of the benefits of Open Conditions) when I saw the fledgling jackdaw. It was at the usual feeding spot – there’s a manhole that lads dump there leftovers on that has become the feeding station for everything from Red Kites to Sparrows.
Another early riser had obviously emptied a mix of cereal and porridge oats and the fledgling had followed its parent down for breakfast. Well this fluffy black thing promptly sat itself in the middle of the food and started to squawk and beg from the parent. The parent in turn bent, picked up the food and put it in the fledgling’s mouth and this process went on for about 3 minutes. I kept thinking, surely the chick will cop on to the fact that its parent is picking the food up from right under its head and sooner or later it will start to eat itself. It only stands to reason that this chick will be curious if nothing else and at least stick its face in the food it is sat in. But it didn’t happen, a walker by got too close for comfort and the two generations of jackdaw flew off to pastures new.
Now as I sat there my first thought was how stupid the fledgling was, and moreover, how stupid was the parent for indulging it. In evolutionary terms I figured that if the parent had ignored the squawking the chick would have had to learn to feed itself sooner.
But as I sipped my coffee I extrapolated the scene and applied it to prisoners. In my decade I have met thousands of men inside, men of every shape, size, age and ethnicity (except for Inuit – never met an Inuit prisoner). Each has there own needs and there own coping skills. Some are highly independent and self-motivated while others really need to be led by the hand. One would be surprised how much resentment and judgement that this can bring.
There is a breed of prisoner, often called a Cat. This vernacular stems from the fictional saucer of milk that the Kanga’s keep in their wing office, ergo, the guy that hangs around the office all day is the office cat. Now this guy can be a pain in the arse if you are in need of something from the staff – they are usually wilfully ignorant to any hint of needing privacy. I’ve lost count of the times that I approached the wing office, seen the cat and just turned on my heel. Then again, I don’t doubt that others would have called me the office cat. Holy shit – I didn’t even know that that Zen bomb was in here – that’s not even the main one!
So anyway, as I reflected on office cats and lazy chicks it suddenly dawned on me. I shouldn’t sit in judgement on those who want or need more help than I do. Instead I should focus more on myself and be grateful for those areas of my life in which I am blessed with more independence. Now that was the Zen bomb that I was thinking about.
But just as I was getting smug about my realisation I had another reality check. Haemin Sunim (a bone fide Zen Buddhist) said something along the lines of ‘If you want to measure a man’s enlightenment, first shower him with praise, then shower him with criticism. If he reacts to either, then he is not enlightened.’ So I was saddened that my smugness after my Zen realisation had cheapened my achievements. But what could I take forward from the experience? What pearl or saying might I coin?
People shouldn’t judge a book by it’s cover? – That’s been done.
Look under the surface, not all is as it seems? – Too much of a Crystal maze clue
Then it came to me, “People shouldn’t generalise.”
I was happy. It was short, succinct and said what I thought it should. But my Zen joy was short-lived. I nearly spat out my coffee when I realised that my pearl of wisdom was in fact a damned oxymoron. This Zen stuff is a minefield!
