An exercise of cultivation

I had been complaining to a friend, saying I needed to go to the dentist. There had been something bothering me and I didn’t have a good feeling about it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not the sort of person who hates going to the dentist. Yes, I know I’m odd, but hey, when you’re a kid and spend a hefty amount of time sitting in your dentist’s chair every month because of your braces, you just get used to the whole procedure and the bright light environment. I’m going off on a tangent, sorry.

So yes, I was telling my friend that it felt like I’d broken a tooth as it had started off as a nagging feeling in one of my molars – a constant throbbing. I had thought it might be a cavity developing, but somehow it didn’t quite feel like that was the case… something just wasn’t normal.

I called my dentist and was annoyed when he told me the only appointment he had was in a week’s time. So I just went into my bathroom, picked up my ultra magnifying mirror, the sort that shows you all your imperfections (why we even buy these I don’t know – something to use when we feel like torturing ourselves?). I couldn’t believe my eyes: it looked like a little stick was poking out of my tooth. I ran my finger over it and it did feel just like a little twig. I was speechless. It definitely wasn't a cavity, but then what on Earth was it? (If it was, indeed, Earthly... and here I am getting away from myself again, sorry.)

I paced around the bathroom. I couldn’t just leave it there. Eating anything now that I had seen what was on, or in?, my tooth just wouldn’t feel right. So I tentatively tried tugging at it. It budged slightly. I felt like a gardener digging up a tree stump. I gave it another tug, this time a little stronger and it popped out, roots and all. It was probably only a few milimetres in length, but it was still impressive. I was ogling it when my friend walked into the bathroom asking what I’d been doing. She saw the tiny black fleck between my fingers and figured it was dirt, so left me to wash my hands. But I had another idea – I was going to try and plant the little twig.

I found an empty peanut butter jar I’d finished earlier in the day and moved some dirt from another flowerpot and gently placed my little companion inside. I put it in my room, hidden by the curtains in hopes nobody would see it and throw it out. I went out for the day and when I returned I immediately went to check on my jar, but it looked the same.

The next few days I almost forgot about it, hidden away in my room. But when I got a call reminding me I had a dentist’s appointment that afternoon, I had a sudden jolt of anxiety. I went over to my window and pulled back the curtain to reveal a little tree, like a Japanese bonsai tree still in early phases of development. I decided that since my tooth wasn’t even bothering me anymore, I would go to the dentist and show him my little trophy. So off I went.

My dentist greeted me with open arms and a joyful smile:

‘So honey, what seems to be the matter?’ he asked.

To which I answered: ‘Nothing now, actually. I thought I had broken a tooth but it turns out I just had a little tree growing out of it’.

He nodded solemnly, but with a slight twinkle in his eye.

‘I always knew you were a little bit special…’ he said. ‘Did you bring it with you perchance?’

‘Of course I did!’. And feeling like the little child who used to sit in that chair every month again, I grabbed my empty jar of peanut butter and proudly handed it to him. He ogled it for a few moments. And said:

‘I guess we spent so much time molding and sculpting your teeth that they decided to gift you with something they knew you could take care of in the long-term’.
Not questioning my dentist’s judgement I left feeling proud of myself. He had trusted me to take care of my teeth, and now my teeth had trusted me with a bonsai tree. This all seemed normal to me.