Jarvis Jay Masters

Freedom – it’s an inside job.

You’ve probably noticed that’s the tagline for The Liberated Life Project. Few people exemplify the spirit of this more than Jarvis Jay Masters. If you’re feeling trapped by the conditions of your life, I’d gently encourage you to find out more about this remarkable man and see how his story might change your perspective.

Jarvis has spent the past 30 years (since he was 19 years old) in San Quentin, one of California’s highest security prisons. For many of those years he has been on Death Row, though he did not murder anyone. (You can read more about his story here.)

While I believe in free will and personal responsibility, it’s hard to look at the facts of Jarvis’ life and not understand how he ended up at San Quentin. In a nutshell: he was physically and mentally abused as a child; both his parents were heroin addicts; he was passed off from one foster family to another, as well as group homes and locked facilities.

By the time he was 17, Jarvis had gotten involved with gangs and expressed his anger and frustration in unhealthy ways. After a series of robberies, he was arrested and sent to San Quentin. Although he did threaten some of his victims with a gun, he never shot anyone.

Jarvis began studying Buddhism while incarcerated and took vows in 1989 from Tibetan Buddhist teacher Chagdud Tulku Rinpoche. He also began to write, and is the author of numerous essays and two wonderful books: Finding Freedom: Writings From Death Row and That Bird Has My Wings (with a foreword by Pema Chodron).

Jarvis is a gifted writer, and this is where my story intersects with his. In the 1990s, I edited two Buddhist magazines, The Mindfulness Bell and Turning Wheel. We published Jarvis’s articles in both these journals, and as a result I corresponded with him by snail mail several times.

Jarvis had never met me before and he was the one in a dire situation; yet his letters to me were filled with kindness and consideration. He would ask me how I was doing and tell me how much he appreciated the magazine. I never forgot his graciousness.

If you read Jarvis’s work, you begin to understand how he maintains a spirit of freedom in spite of the challenges he faces. First off, there is not an ounce of self-pity in his writing.

Here are three lessons that I’ve gleaned from Jarvis about freedom, illustrated by some excerpts from his writing:

1. Use the ingredients available to you to make what you need.

One of Jarvis’ earliest essays was called “Tylenol Prayer Beads.” In it, he described how he was inspired to make a mala (prayer beads) to help him with his Tibetan Buddhist practice. Inmates are severely restricted in their possessions, so he looked around him and fabricated a mala from materials he had right there: a pair of prison-issue jeans, a magazine, and a bottle of Tylenol:

I opened the Sports Illustrated to the middle and took out one of the staples. I straightened it out and sharpened it on the rough concrete floor beside me. I had to be very quiet. If the night watchman heard these strange scratching sounds, the whole cell block might be searched in a panic. Scraping usually meant a weapon was being sharpened.

For almost an hour I ground the staple on the floor, until it was as sharp as a sewing needle.

Now I opened the bottle of Tylenol and began the slow process of poking a tiny hole in the center of each tablet. There were a hundred of them. I had to be as careful as a surgeon. First I poked at the surface of the Tylenol and then with a screwing motion I made a hole all the way through. Taking the thread from my jeans, I passed it through each “bead”…

Five and a half hours later I held my first mala, made from trouser thread and Tylenols. I was elated.

2. Create beauty wherever you are.

This passage is from Finding Freedom:

After the first days had passed, I decided to decorate my walls [of the cell] with photographs from the National Geographic magazines. The landscapes of Malaysia and other parts of the world had enormous beauty, and I gladly pasted photos of them everywhere. These small representations of life helped me to imagine the world beyond prison walls.

Over the years, I collected books and even acquired a television and radio-windows to the outside world. And I pasted many thousands of photographs on the wall. The one that has made my prison home most like a sanctuary to me is a small photograph of a Buddhist saint that a very dear friend sent to me. It has been in the center of my wall for a number of years.

3. Commit yourself to your spiritual practice. Do it unfailingly, every day, no matter what conditions surround you.

More selections from Finding Freedom:

Meditation has become something I cannot do without. I see and hear more clearly, feel more relaxed and calm, and I actually find my experiences slowing down. I’m more appreciative of each day as I observe how things constantly change and dissolve. I’ve realized that everything is in a continual process of coming and going. I don’t hold happiness or anger for a long time. It just comes and goes…

I now begin every day with the practice of meditation, seated on the cold morning floor, cushioned only by my neatly folded blanket. Welcoming the morning light, I realize, like seeing through clouds, that home is wherever the heart can be found.

Jarvis has taught me so much more about the true meaning of liberation from his writing and his life. In the future, I’ll share more of these lessons.

Until then, I’d love to hear how you find freedom in the most challenging situations…

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