I've tried for some months now to write, but it's just not any good. Things may crystallize eventually, and maybe with some clarity I will be able to cut them into stones for display. But for now it still seems murky.
I'm getting back to myself. Internship can be miserable, and I did my best to maximize the misery outside the hospital. I needed to fall apart altogether and that's why I went to Africa. To fall apart, and be reborn. Think phoenix.
I didn't come completely undone, and maybe I still need to. I didn't reach a center of clarity, or break away from the trivialities of life. But I made some progress. I remembered some of the things I value about myself. And I made plans to foster those things. Plus I got to see the bright night sky from a dark land. If that's not inspiring, maybe nothing in nature is.
Two more weeks. I can do two weeks of anything. At least that's what I'll tell myself. It's true as long as I believe it.
