The Struggle of One-ness

Years ago I spent about 14 months working in a prison. A psychologist, I worked with male inmates living in a dual diagnosis unit. That is, they carried mental health diagnoses and substance abuse diagnoses, and they were participating in treatment in preparation for their release (or completing treatment to earn “good time” and shorten their sentences).

It was interesting work on so many levels. There was certainly an element of risk. Some of the inmates had repeated sex offense convictions, others had been involved in violent crimes, another had been involved in an armed robbery during which someone had been killed, several others demonstrated antisocial and even psychopathic thought patterns and behavior. It was easy to fear and to dislike them.

I didn’t, however. I heard their stories, I read their files, I talked with their Corrections Counselors, and dealt with their attempts to manipulate me. Still, once we filtered through all of the smoke and mirrors, what I ended up seeing was their humanness. It was often broken, in many cases beyond repair, but it was human. Each of these men really were doing the best they could with what inner resources and tools they had. The problem was not that they were terrible people seeking to do terrible things. The problem was that they didn’t have the tools, the capacity, to know how to do it differently. The terrible things they did occurred within a context, one we cannot even begin to understand if it has not been the same for us. They hadn’t been born planning to do those things, those things were the result of years of heartbreak, crisis, abuse, disappointment, neglect, disadvantage, impaired judgment, limitations on all levels (cognitive, emotional, social, economic), etc. These men weren’t monsters, they were broken. The were the product of a lifetime of cause and effect.

My time working there really led me to see human nature differently. Despite the terrible things that had happened to these men, despite the terrible things they had done, we found common ground. We found human connection, even if for only brief, fleeting moments. They were generally not capable of maintaining healthy connection, but they were capable of moments of very real connection. They craved it, they responded to it, and they healed tiny bits of themselves with it. For most of them it wasn’t enough. We predicted most of them would re-offend and be back, but the connection was there nonetheless. I saw a lot of difference between myself and these people, but there were moments when I was very much aware of the ways in which we were similar.

What if we could all do this in all aspects of our lives? What if instead of seeing separateness we could experience one-ness, we could recognize that we are all from the same source? This can be conceptualized in many different ways: we are all made from the same energy, we all have pure and perfect souls and our limitations are part of our humanness, we are all made by God or Goddess and in his/her image and therefore the same at our core, etc. Most, if not all, religious and wisdom teachings throughout the world carry and teach this theme, yet for some reason it’s so hard for us as humans to do.

In her book “Braving the Wilderness” Brene Brown states that “People are hard to hate close up. Move in.” It’s very easy to see difference and divide when we keep ourselves at a distance, and much harder to do so when we actually get to know “them.” I had this experience when I worked in the prison. I “moved in” and got “close up,” and the view was very different from the one outside the prison, the one painted in the media, the one emphasized in crime dramas. It was an enlightening experience. People are actually much easier to like than to dislike once you get to know their true essence.

In today’s political climate of divisiveness and disdain this message seems particularly salient and relevant. It’s become easy to see “them” as the enemy when in reality if we allowed ourselves to “move in” and get “close up” we may realize that not only do we like “them,” but we actually have more in common than not.