Being Released... Part 2

Elmira, New York. An economically depressed town in NorthWestern NY State. The one good industry in Elmira, one that is not in any danger of failing is Prison of which they have 4 in the immediate area. And of course I was a big supporter of that industry by putting myself in prison for 12 years. All of this came to me while standing on the sidewalk in front of the bus station. Of course I was at a total loss as to what to do. Finally, I figured that the best thing to do was to exchange my voucher for a bus ticket. As I walked in to the sation I felt like everyone was watching me, knowing me for who and what I was. Of course that was rediculous but I felt very self concious nonetheless.

I managed to get my ticket without incident, although the ticket agent gave me a knowing smile after seeing the voucher. No mistaking what the voucher was. I went outside and waited for the bus which arrived on time. I got on the bus and luckily it was only about 1/3 full. The ride home took about 4 hours and the ride itself was uneventful. Even my wandering mind was quiet. I was was excited though. I hadn't seen NY since 1993 and lots had changed... 9/11, 42nd. Street clean up, the Hudson River park, taller buildings, cleaner and safer streets. I couldn't wait and at the same time was nervous to get off of the bus.

The bus pulled into Port Authority at 42nd. Street and my moment of truth had arrived. I stepped from the bus, walked through the terminal and exited on to the street. I had arrived, I was home. I felt like an explorer seeing something I had dreamed about for the first time. It was amazing. A big smile appeared on my face and a pronounced spring appeared in my step. At that moment for the first time in 12 years I felt free and it was a sweet feeling indeed.

There are moments in each of our lives, defining moments, moments of joy and elation that we need to hang on to. We need to capture that feeling, that joy, that elation, that natural high. I was standing on the corner of 42nd. Street and 9th. avenue, $40 in my pocket and a duffel bag with a few pairs of pants, socks and shirts. I had my prison ID and my release papers. I had a few packs of Marlboros (I smoked back then) and that was it. Nothing else. And yet in spite of, or maybe because of it I felt like I was the richest man in NY because I had something more valuable than all that stuff.... I had my freedom and thats worth more than anything.

On days that I'm feeling needy and a bit down I go back to that time and place to help me rediscover what is really important. What really matters. What life is really all about. Life isn't about a big house or a fast car. Life isn't about a high paying job or a fur coat. Like is not about any of those things. Life is about the simple things, the little ones.... a baby's giggle, a hug, a pat on the back, singing happy birthday, walking in the warm rain, making a snow man. Life is about standing on 42nd. Street with a big old stupid grin on my face and not wanting or needing any more than that. Life is the glass half full and thinking of the possiblilities.

Peace.