May. 13, 2004 - 21:34 MST

THE WONDERING JEW

Stolen Peace

When I got so bad off that I couldn't relax enough to recognize the need to do so, the walls came tumbling down.

Most of my aware life I have had these little havens, nests, hideaways to where I could go, to be just me, and converse, Id to Ego and vice versa.

Sometimes my hiatuses were somewhat a retreat from reality into daydreams, had some neat ones. One place that was prime to me was when in junior high summer school, there was a cathedral across the street, one day as I passed it on the way to the street car line I heard some great organ music and noted that a side door was ajar, I came by there every day while in that school, sit in a pew and feel protected and in complete peace while the organist practised. Sometimes I would meditate and come to mental equilibrium. Sometimes I would sit and puzzle about getting along with others. Other times I was in prayer.

Each time was good for me. Away from the world, quiet, catching my breath.

We had a big yard when I was a kid, our house was on the back of the lot. I had a place amidst the bushes, out of worldly sight where it was calm, couldn't even hear the street car on the rails. Or on the studio couch in the bedroom was another. The library in our neighborhood was also a good place, at the far end of one wing was a fireplace that had a bench on each side, inside of it, a mental retreat it was, funny thing nobody bothered me while there, an open book on my lap but actually lost in thought.

No matter in life where I was, a place for me could be found if I searched. Sometimes it was a bit absurd, but if the place fitted me, I fitted it. Places could be summer places or winter places. Some times walking along the street at nightfall in our neighborhood suited me, I had the sidewalks memorized, knew the stumbling places where one rock slab would be lifted up by a tree root and where the night sprinklers were to be avoided.

One thing I can occasionally do is meditate at my keyboard, but it is not a natural thing --- too many things intrude, but at times it is the right place to be. But there are places on the grounds here I can go to -- benches, nooks and hear the fountain and birds and achieve pure peace and can seek what my mind needs.

Today, for a short time I was in the shade at the edge of the pond where maintenance had built a buttress, a deck and seats, I had to navigate a few stairs but it was where I needed to be.

Every day I can see and read about things I think need correction, and really know not what can be done, but I voice my opinions in the manner that I always vote, as is my right. I think now for a time I shall turn to the inner man and communicate with my higher power. I do not feel guilty about my Stolen Peace . . . . . . .

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