In 1995, I was sentenced to 50 years in a high security prison, in a state where I had no one and knew no one. I was totally alone.

An initial piece of advice convicts gave me was, “Forget about the outside world because you are never getting out. You may as well get comfortable and make a name for yourself in prison because that is all that matters.” Making a ‘name’ for yourself meant joining a gang, fighting, resisting the guards, and being willing to put your life on the line.

In prison the path of least resistance is to conform to the crowd, make their values and goals your values and goals. I was a terrified young man being alone in this environment. My head throbbed and I longed for relief from the stress, pain, and loneliness that gripped me. “Just join us,” I remember one of the shot callers saying to me. “Everyone does in the end.”

I wanted desperately to embrace the path of least resistance to stop my pain. But something inside me refused to listen to those voices.

Instead, I chose the path of most resistance. If I was going to make it through Hell I had to figure out a way, to find that path through this journey.

You don’t know how strong you are until you are forced to face your fears. There is no growth in following the crowd and no strength in the refuge of sanctuary, for when challenge comes all you seek is to flee from it.

What gave me confidence in myself wasn’t the fact I was surrounded by lions. No. What gave me confidence in myself was the years I spent alone, sitting on a prison bunk in the middle of chaos teaching myself how to write. I dropped out of highschool after the 9th grade, and my secret was that I barely knew how to write. I couldn’t grasp it, but I knew I wanted to learn and to overcome my fear of English. Not just overcome, but conquer it and so I clutched pen and faced blank pages everyday and overcame. On the days when I didn’t overcome I still faced the blank page, and wrote something if not a single sentence vowing to try again tomorrow.

After a while I had stacks and stacks of filled pages I’d written and began to realize something. I am strongest in my discomfort. It is in discomfort where I build confidence and grow.

Prison isn’t about physical strength. It’s about mental fortitude, about what’s in your mind. You must face yourself and that is the greatest challenge. It took years before I truly understood this.

Happiness and peace is found first in your mind “The quality of your life depends upon the quality of your thoughts” (Marcus Aurelius). Then, you discover your truth that enlightenment is in your heart and soul, but you had to journey to understand. Deep down you knew all along.

I took a risk decades ago by telling others I don’t share their views. I faced the fear of retribution for shunning the convict establishment. And retribution came.

Even on my darkest days where no one came to my aid and I had no one to go to, I stood my ground owning what came with my decision. Every hardship and defeat I endured only made me stronger. It made it possible for me to face myself. When you face yourself you overcome yourself. You discover there is nothing in this world that you cannot overcome.

I’ve heard a lot of advice over the decades I’ve been Inside. Most of it was shortsighted or prison focused; limiting or self-centered, or offered by individuals who didn’t live by the very words that came out of their mouths. Everyone seems to have an opinion.

I don’t care about opinions. What I know is that I am who I am because I face my fears when others flee from them. “The man who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones” (Confucius). I’ve put in the hard work to overcome and to better myself. “I must be willing to give up what I am in order to become what I will be” (Einstein) and now I know there isn’t anything I can’t achieve.

I act on what I feel and I question what I hear and see and this works for me. What works for you may be something different only you can answer that question.

I tell guys around me, you need to discover who you are. You need to face yourself and then put in the work — damn hard work, for there are no shortcuts — to better yourself and to build the future you sincerely desire. It doesn’t matter who you are or how long your sentence is because this journey isn’t a part time thing. “The privilege of a lifetime is to become who you truly are” (Carl Jung).

I will forever be grateful for the day after Christmas 1996 here in prison. I had spent the previous night vomiting, fighting fever and cold sweats. The next morning I somehow stumbled to the infirmary for help, and after 5 minutes was dismissed by a guard, “Go back to your unit,” the guard said. “You’ll live.” Five minutes that changed my life. I understood then that no one cared if I survived or perished and it was up to me to live. To face discomfort and thrive. “In ourselves our safety must be sought. By our right hand it must be wrought” (William Wordsworth). And I have taken that moment and taught myself to think differently, for here in prison you must know how far you’ve come or you will remain stuck where you began.

When you are alone over months, years, and decades with nothing but your thoughts you figure it out. And when you do you embrace the journey and begin to truly live.

In the 5 minutes it took you to read this I hope that it changes someone’s life, just as 5 minutes once changed mine “For to be free is not merely to cast off one’s chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others” (Nelson Mandela).


*Christopher Monihan is a writer, author, and Stillwater Award recipient. He is incarcerated in Ohio.

Thank you! for following. If you haven’t already, subscribe and you will be notified the moment I publish a new post. —Christopher