Sorting It All Out, and Centering Myself

Fellow St. Louis native and poet Maya Angelou says:
"My Garden is the place I want to go after my last breath is refused, but before I meet God."

Whether it be a physical place or a temporary mental reprieve, we all desperately need a place of respite to escape to when whatever it is that life is hurling in our direction is aimed at our heads.

This place must be sacred, but not necessarily in a religious or spiritual sense.  It should also be virtually untouchable by any outside force:  Your job, your spouse, your children, a ringing phone, your daily "To Do" list, etc.

Much like a dragonfly pausing to sun himself on a water lily, I also need to pause not only to recharge my batteries, but I crave those moments of peace and tranquility, and I seek them out on a regular basis.

(From my own photograph, at The Missouri Botanical Gardens)

I am a "I like this AND that, rather than a "I like this OR that" person. 

I like to sample from the huge buffet called LIFE, rather than force myself to eat one item, while trying to convince myself that I am satisfied with that single choice.

For that reason, I have several sacred places, many of them depending on the particular time or season.

During the spring / summer / fall, a nice, slow walk through the Missouri Botanical Gardens always centers my soul.  This place is still a green and floral oasis in the middle of the concrete jungle that is St. Louis.





Most specifically, the Climatron Tropical Rain Forest in the Missouri Botanical Gardens recharges not only my mind, but also my body.  This jungle is kept at 85 degrees with 85 percent humidity throughout the entire year.

When I go to the Climatron with the intent to take a mental and physical break, I always take my knitting.  By doing so, I combine TWO of my favorite escapes.  I push all other appointments and cares out of my mind (use a couple paper towels to wipe the moisture from one of the many benches!), and I make myself take an hour or so and sit on the bench..... knitting.    Both are good for the mind and the soul.  In this setting, I am surrounded by lush greenery, the sound of waterfalls, birds, heat and humidity, all things that are 'just what the Doctor ordered' for this pesky Psoratic Arthritis.  We can all rest assured that one day, I will still be sitting on that bench when they close for the evening, and security will have to drag me out!

Inside the Climatron @
 The Missouri Botanical Garden

I also like to walk to the highest point of the Climatron, where the Orchids and other epiphytes grow in the tree tops, and the heat, humidity, and life-giving sun are all at their best.  I walk across the bridge at the top, and stop in the middle of the bridge, turning my head toward the sun, and closing my eyes.  From the top of my head to the bottom of my feet, I can feel every muscle relax in my body.  That, in itself, is worth the cost of my seasonal Garden membership!

There are several other favorite items on this mental Sabbatical buffet that I choose to feed and enrich my soul on a regular basis.

Thirteen years ago, due to predisposition and bad genetics, I had to get every one of my teeth pulled, first the upper set, then the lowers.
Because my upper set had remnants of broken root canals (plastic strips sticking out of my gums!), and roots from other teeth that were still in my gums, but the tooth, itself, had long since broken off.
The only solution was to surgically remove my remaining upper teeth (14 teeth), and while the oral surgeon was 'in there', they scraped and leveled my jaw bone to make a better fitting denture.

(Three months later, I had my lower 14 teeth manually pulled, requiring multiple shots of Novocaine. I waited a total of 6 months to get my dentures.)

Anywho, back to the oral surgery:

I vaguely remember waking up at the oral surgeon's office, then my memory is *BLANK* until we drove through the McDonald's drive-thru to get me a milk shake, per the doctor's suggestion.  I know we had to have stopped at a pharmacy to pick up pain medication on the way home, but I don't recall that stop at all.  Nor do I remember walking into my apartment.  
(Remember, I don't recall ANY of the following interaction:)

When we walked through my front door, my Ex told me, "Michael, you've had a long day.  Do you want to lay down and rest a while?"

With huge wads of blood-soaked gauze still packed my my mouth, I found my way over to my Hammond A-100 / B3's bench.  I patted the bench, and I roughly mumbled to him:

"No, I'll be alright right here."  (:::Patting the bench with my hand:::)
 "Just leave me alone."
In an unconscious state of mind, I told that user just how worthless he really is!

HALLELUJAH !  Can I get an "AMEN!" up in here?

I know lightning probably flashed, and thunder boomed!

My Ex (Shannon / Sean Foreshee) relayed to me the entire story the next day, and he told me that I played my Hammond for 2 hours before I found my way down the hallway of my apartment to the bedroom to go to bed.

The moral of this story:

That damned fool has been gone (and I am thankful for that!) for 13 years.  My Hammond A-100 with a Leslie 122 is still sitting here with me, alongside 28 other keyboard instruments, most of which require 2 - 4 people to carry.

A Hammond organ or piano bench is one of those 'untouchable' places that I go, and nobody can harm me.

Remember Maya Angelou's words:"My Garden is the place I want to go after my last breath is refused, but before I meet God."
Insert "The Climatron at the Missouri Botanical Gardens", a piano bench, a visit to the Art Museum, or whatever is your Great Escape.
I honestly pity those who have no such place, and I can easily discern those that do have a place(s) of respite from those that do not.

- Michael