21 Days of Storytelling.

This random selfie in my Deanna original scarf makes me happy.

Work has been crazy. Busy, yes. But also just emotionally taxing, man.

Sigh.

I can tell it's been getting to me because I have all these half written blog posts in my queue that haven't been finished. Almost like a bunch of sandwiches with two bites out of them. But, like nourishment with food, writing feeds my soul. Yes, it does.

And so. Here is my challenge to myself. For the next 21 days, I'm going to write something each day. A story, poetry, something. Work my literary muscle out. And the point? Well. I guess the point is to write. Write, man. All in an effort to replenish me in that way that only writing can.

Yes. Yes!

I feel tired. Which makes the challenge even better. I also want to be brave, too. And . . .I don't know. . .just willing to try things in my writing. Or flesh out quirky thoughts, man. That's also stifled me a bit as of late. You know? I'm just thinking. It doesn't have to be that heavy, man. Writing is like running. The best way to run is to run. The best way to run well is to keep running.

And so it is with writing. So . . .no more over-thinking it. This is a nudge to just do it.

Just Do It. Ha.

Now that I think of it, even though I'm a runner now, I've never gotten that runner's high that everyone keeps talking about. But the writer's high? Man, oh man. That I HAVE felt. I've had moments that seemed just like a sky rocket in flight and an afternoon delight all rolled into one. Where I couldn't stop myself.

Nope.

And so. Tonight I will sleep. I will write in my dreams and stick post it notes all around my heart. Then, at some point, I will write. And by "at some point" I mean starting tomorrow. I'll do my best to stick with it for 21 days.

Why? Because that's what feels right in my universe. And not writing feels awry.

Yeah.

***
Happy late-night Wednesday mostly Thursday. Kinda excited.

Oh yeah. Forgot to tell you guys this rad thing. Or wait, did I? I can't remember. On August 10 I wrote an essay about how losing Deanna to heart disease changed me as a physician. I submitted it to JAMA (The Journal of the American Medical Association) on August 11--Deanna's birthday. Well. It was accepted for publication and guess when the manuscript went live on line? November 16. One day after the two year mark of her passing--and in the Cardiovascular Disease special issue, no less.

You know what? I'm proud. And I know she is, too.

Regrettably, the full text version is only available with subscription to JAMA or access through a university library. But I knew y'all would want to hear about this either way.

***
Now playing on my mental iPod. . . . .