100 days of ... Residency
Not quite as romantic as 100 days of Summer, but stay with me.
I went to their spot -- up on the hill overlooking LA, the one they went to for the view. It was walled off for construction, and the view also wasn't quite the same. But maybe that's what writing or creating is about, trying to capture the moment like you've experienced it, to create a sanctuary for that memory. Like the creation process of a song, or the one listening to it - re-living memories of when it was first heard.
Writing helps me share snapshots in time - snapshots of my journey that will hopefully come full circle in retrospect.
This has been my process for the first 100 days of residency.
Life is unfair. Deal with it. This is so hard. This is not that bad. I got this. I don't got this. This isn't okay. I'll be okay. I'll figure it out. I've figured it out. Humanness is so unattractive. Am I good enough? Reminder that I don't have to be. Reminder to give it all up to God and stop forcing every single thing.
These are pieces of pieces, and I am too close and too invested. Everything matters. The ins&outs of every single day are tedious and long (16-18hours long) and it's not ... good enough. Not good enough for all of the hours I've spent away from loved ones or not living out my late 20s. But not only is the goal to focus on one thing at a time, one skill at a time, one day at a time - it's being cognizant of what I am becoming, out of the ashes from the burning fire, that matters. Will I be the doctor I'm hoping to be? Will I be the surgeon that someone needs me to be when it really, truly counts? The fear and heaviness of failing that someone overwhelms all else.
Day 101. Let's go.