5 Small Boxes

What you learn when everything you own fits in 5 small boxes

When I was arrested on 2/14/2016 for armed bank robberies and taken out of our house at gunpoint, it was the last time I would ever be in that house. 

 By the time I left prison six years later, my family had relocated as the house was going into foreclosure due to my failed business ventures and expensive addiction to narcotic pain medications.

Inside of that house were all the trappings of a man of means. 

I left a garage full of power tools, hardware sets and equipment, sets of expensive golf clubs and accessories.   In the house, stereo surround sound systems, 60-inch TV, an office with computers, hundreds of books, awards, memorabilia collected, and more.

I’m not even sure how many custom-made suits, shirts, ties, cuff links, and shoes I owned. 

Let’s just say it was a lot. 

That stuff was all great to have, and I won’t pretend it wasn’t.  We were blessed; I was blessed.

That February morning I left it all behind. 

I was under arrest for allowing my addiction to run rampant. 

I had failed my family, failed my children, failed my wife. 

Later that day, after being booked by the Connecticut State Police Major Crime Squad, I was sent to the Hartford County Corrections Center. 

 Immediately, I was stripped naked.  I handed over my jeans, shirt and shoes.  I was given a tan prison shirt, tan pants and a pair of karate-style shoes.  The only personal item that was still with me after intake was my wedding ring.

 Everything else, gone.

 Forever. 

 To get some financial help for my family - my stuff was sold, consigned or just donated. 

Too often people lose everything.  Their homes burn down, or some catastrophic weather event takes away all of their possessions.  So unfortunately tragic, and so unfortunately common.  These people have done nothing wrong and yet lose everything.

My stuff was gone because of my failures.  I have no deity, no act of nature or accidental fire to blame.  It was all on me. 

After almost six years in prison - I was woken up at 1:30am one morning by the guard and told to pack up my belongings.  I was heading out of prison and to a halfway house. 

The best wake-up call of my life.

My possessions now were mostly books that I had collected and been sent by family and friends over the years.  There were notebooks full of speech notes and drafts, articles from newspapers and magazines collected over the years along with personal letters, cards and notes that I had received from the outside. 

I had a pair of sweatpants and 2 sweatshirts, a few pairs of prison issued tee-shirts and boxers, my crappy sneakers and I believe 4 pairs of socks.

That was pretty much it.

 There is an unwritten rule among the inmates that says you leave prison with nothing but the clothes on your back.  Everything else you give to your cell mate or others in the block and leave prison with nothing – the same way you come in. 

I had, through the commissary program, over the years bought a small fan, a small tv, little alarm clock and a hot pot.  All of that I left to a couple of guys in the block.

 Unwritten rule or not - I was keeping my work and the books, letters and cards that got me through the years away. 

 At first you pack up your belongings into large garbage bags, and you then drag it through the prison hallways to the processing area. 

There, everything I NOW owned was put into 5 small boxes. 

At 6am a prison van picked us up for our ride to freedom - or to half-freedom in my case.

 So away I went, happy to be in a vehicle for the first time in years and NOT in handcuffs. 

Happy to be leaving prison behind and optimistic about the future. 

Me and my 5 boxes were dropped in front of a halfway house in New Haven CT. 

I was elated, to say the least.

 So what’s the lesson here?  What is the point?

Jim Morrison said, “You can lose something you have, but you cannot lose something you are.”

 With PERSPECTIVE, I accepted the fact that everything I now own fit into 5 small boxes.

I was lucky to be alive and blessed to be one step closer to restarting my life. 

It did not matter to me what I owned or did not own anymore.  

 As stated earlier, having things is not bad.  I have not vowed a life of poverty.  Sure I’d love some of that stuff back. Who wouldn’t?

 But I know now, through this process of having and having not; what I value, and what does not matter.

 I also know now that my value to my family and friends is who I am, and NOT what I have. 

They loved me when I had stuff, and they love me now without it.

 This is a simple lesson, and one I think we all inherently already know and understand. 

Through this process I’ve been reminded, and the lesson reinforced. 

 We are defined by the person we are, and not the things we own.  We are seen by our loved ones as father, mother, wife, husband, son, daughter, etc. - and not as the owner of stuff.

Having it all and then having nothing – does not matter either way to me. 

Being present in the lives of my loved ones is the greatest thing I have ever had. 

Your loved ones and friends love YOU, regardless of what you own, or don’t own. 

PERSPECTIVE is awesome.