My impression is that happiness is a very similar thing for most people no matter their background. After we wade through the nonsense that we think makes us happy – the stuff that we are tirelessly working for that just clutters our lives, I think most people come to a pretty similar conclusion. We want peace. We want to be with the people we love. We want everyone to be healthy and happy. It’s relatively simple. – Excerpt from Mortality Check and the Realization of Happiness

My guest for this interview is not sitting in the same room with me while I ask him about his thoughts on his life and the room for happiness therein. He is not sitting quietly at his computer sipping a cup of tea as he leisurely answers my questions. His situation is the antithesis. The replies to my questions are coming through a contraband telephone. He is incarcerated for the third time in his forty-two years. For various crimes, he has spent more than a third of his life in prison. A bit over two years remain on his latest sentence.

Simplicity Sprouts: Tell me about your surroundings. Do you have windows?
Guest: My time is spent in a 10×4 meter (approximately 32×14 ft) room with forty other men. The room is filled with bunks. There is about 50 cm (20 in) of space between the beds. That’s our walkway. I have access to windows for most of the days. But the physical surroundings aren’t the scariest thing.

SS: What is the hardest aspect of being in your position?
G: It’s exhausting to be around (these) people constantly. I am never alone. I’m tired of the profanity all day long. I’m surprised by what I have become accustomed to – the deprivation of basic needs, the constant theft, the inability to be alone with my thoughts.

SS: Could you describe your schedule? Is it the same every day?
G: I wake up at 4 a.m. for prayer. I read Scripture until 6 a.m. Then I exercise. I eat breakfast. Between 7 and 8 a.m., I read again, although recently I have started using the internet, which I’m not very happy about. It’s a waste. At 8:30 a.m. we have count. Until 12:30 p.m. there are various things, various jobs. Then it’s lunchtime and rest followed by count again. Dinner is at 6 p.m., then prayer, count, and not much else until 10 p.m. when it’s the end of the day.

SS: Your life right now is, of course, a collection of choices, right? Is there any moment in your life, in which you think a different decision on your part could have altered everything and you wouldn’t be imprisoned?
G: I don’t know. Everything happens as it should according to our sins. It’s not surprising that I ended up here.

SS: In your current situation, what brings you happiness, or at least a small measure of peace to your day?
G: The days are incredibly monotonous. It’s the same thing over and over again, but prayer and reading save me.

SS: Tell me about one of your happiest memories.
G: One day, during the spring, I sat by a window. The sun was shining. I was either praying or reading Scripture, I can’t remember. I thought of the woman I love and tears flowed down my face. I was very happy. I had never had this before and I haven’t since.

SS: What happy memories do you recall about your early childhood?
G: I remember that time often. I remember going to pick mushrooms in the forest with my parents. I remember walking around the city with my grandfather. Yes, childhood is carefree time. It’s cloudless. Certainly in my childhood I was happy, but you only understand this when it passes.

SS: Not all children are happy during their childhood, I don’t think that is a guarantee for everyone. Research shows that this early childhood time has a massive impact on a person’s life in adulthood. The way that he is treated even as a newborn will impact relationships, problems with narcotics, issues with aggression, etc. But you would characterize your childhood as overall happy?
G: Yes. Maybe I was spoiled and some of my issues came from that, a result of permissiveness. But there were more factors.

SS: If you had no obstacles and could do absolutely anything right now with one day, what would you do? Where would you go?
G: I haven’t seen women in six and a half years. This is my weakness and it’s driving me crazy. What else can I think about? I would be happy to take a stroll in the woods or spend time by the river. Maybe I would drink 100 grams of cognac. Really, it would be great to wake up and not see anyone, walk into the kitchen and have a cup of tea by myself.

SS: What are your hopes for when you are released? What would you like to do? Where would you like to live?
G: What could I possibly want? I want peace. I want to have a family, to raise a child. But this is all equivalent to landing on the moon. I don’t know if there is even room for me in this world.

SS: You have to allow yourself to dream. If you don’t believe that such a life is possible for you, who will believe it for you? Who will plan this happy, peaceful life? You have to dream.
G: I would do that with pleasure, but I have forgotten how.

What do you hope for when all hope has been torn from your person? Do you allow yourself to dream? Do you allow yourself to imagine something past the nightmare of a presence in which you find yourself? When every excess is stripped, what is it that you wish for most? Simple happiness.