I thought I was done with health care for the year, but I wasn’t.

I had two cavities pressed together, closed together at the bottom of my mouth. Dr. Merryman said they were both very close to the tooth’s nerve, which might make it a complex procedure.

The doctor and his staff worked carefully to make the process painless, which it was.

I didn’t even feel the novocaine needle. I brought Zinnia; she lay down by my side and checked on me once in a while, then went to sleep. I am learning that she is uncertain about tiny children. She isn’t aggressive or challenging; she seems puzzled by them and walks away.

I realized she was rarely, if ever, around small children. We’ll do some work on that.

I was in the dentist’s chair for more than an hour, and the procedure went very well. My teeth look great, said Dr. Merryman, my work with a Water Pic and plaque gel and flossing and brushing is working out well.

As has been the pattern with my health care, these procedures and issues have turned out well for me; each one makes me better, wiser, and healthier. I now have an excellent and caring dentist to add to my growing list of doctors I appreciate and respect.

I went into Saratoga  (near my dentist) and bought some Honey Crisp apples, a staple snack in my new way of eating. I realize that I’m not dieting, I’m just changing the way I eat, and I am losing weight steadily. I’m discovering the veggie omelet big time; this will make the American Heart Association Happy.

It tastes good to eat well; it feels good.

My sleep apnea mask has turned out to be something of a miracle. Last night I watched parts four and five of “Shetland” with Douglas Henshaw on Amazon Prime; it’s one of the mystery series I like the best. The series was inspired by the book of Anne Cleeves, one of the best British mystery writers. The British know how to do it.

The Americans haven’t learned yet.

The problem is I watched it until one a.m.

I slept for six straight hours with my mask on, something of a landmark event for me.

But I realize that I am tired. I’ve written more than once a day for months now, with very few exceptions. The Amish experience was intense.

Sometimes my head needs a rest. I plunked down in my chair in the living room, put on my earphones, listened to Roy Orbison, and fell asleep.

I sometimes forget that writing is work and forget to step back and let my spirit cool off and my mind rest.

This week, I will make an effort to slow down a bit and work on my contemplation and meditation. That permanently restores me, but so does writing and taking photos, which I will be doing every day.

Wednesday morning, I’ll conduct another prayer service for the Mansion residents. I’ve bought a dozen inexpensive cross necklaces to hand out to the people who want one.

I’m looking forward to my contemplations in silence. Every afternoon just before dusk. I am so fortunate to have this time for the first time in my life. This week, the Mansion is quiet, Bishop Maginn is closed until January. A good time to breathe.

Contemplation, writes Thomas Merton and my contemplation mentor is the highest expression of a man’s intellectual and spiritual life. It is that life itself, funnily awake, fully active, fully aware that it is alive. It is gratitude for life, for awareness, and for being.