An insight made available to us by the hermit's life is that we are all, each one of us, a hermit; that in the end we know we are a unique creation of God, and alone because of that uniqueness, and that this alone-ness become solitude is the meeting place with God. This is true no matter how social and communal our exterior lives may be. It is within our interior solitude, the solitude and silence that many of us (including hermits) try to shut out with noise and activity of various sorts in order to evade that encounter, that we are called into truth and confrontation with mercy, that we are given what it is we have to give in our encounters with other people who in their own lives are engaged in the same searching.
Over the months, I kept on sending Boss a daily supply of tobacco, always wrapped in a page of BEING PEACE. One page at a time he came to like Thich Nhat Han. Every now and then, Boss even tried his best to meditate, but he was never able to stay awake early in the morning.
After eighteen months Bosshog is released from the grip of San Quentin and from the dependence on me for tobacco and BEING PEACE. Before he walked off the tier, he stood in front of my cell and together we recited what had become Boss's mantra whenever he was about to blow his top:
"Man, man ... If we are peaceful, if we are happy, we can smile, and everyone in our family, our entire society, will benefit from our peace."