I realized I was not as honest with myself in this soulful concept as I thought I was, when the man who picked me up in his taxi wore prison gang tattoos on his scalp, face, arms and hands.
I struggled not with fear, but with revulsion, and judgementalism. Though he chatted nicely and I soon learned he had seriously left his criminal life behind, his exterior appearance got in the way of my seeing his inner light.
I didn't believe prisoners, especially rapists and murderers deserved forgiveness. I still have that hump to clear. But have learned a lesson that some people can be rehabilitated and deserving of the same respect as anyone can have. I wonder how others would feel to discover that their cab driver was an ex-con.
It was very thought provoking and soul searching experience for me.
Note: I borrowed the picture of the "prison sleeves" from a site that sells them. Guess what! They are not tattoos at all!