Climbing Mountains

So, my daughter said something quite timely to me today:

She said,

"Dad, if I were you, I would climb mountains."

...

I needed to hear this. 2016 hasn't been a bad year by any stretch; in fact, in many obvious ways, it's been a success.

But it's been a tough one for me internally. My periodic bouts with depression resurfaced in the face of a lot of stressors and worked to derail the progress I made in the last few years in terms of eating healthily, exercising frequently, and writing regularly.

And thus, the snowball was born.

It left me with a lot of doubt and negative inertia as far as these goals and key components of my life have been concerned, and I've been struggling to get them back on track. Just in terms of my writing alone, I've had a lot of rejections over the past five years, and they really start to wear on you. This is a major goal of mine, and lots of days, I feel like I haven't gotten anywhere with it.

And then there's this whole residency thing.

Not to mention the fact that sometimes, everything can be going just fine, and that doesn't change the fact that I don't want to answer the phone.

Or get out of bed for a week.

That's just how this stuff goes.

But over the past week, I've really been thinking a lot about how to get back on track. New city, new job, these things help. I also listened to the musical Hamilton for the first time, and it's been incredibly inspiring. (Seriously, it deserves all the hype. And then some.) I remember now that I still have a lot of goals, as a writer, as a physician.

As a father and husband.

Mountains to climb, you might say.

And apparently, when my daughter looks at me, she sees someone who has everything it takes to rise to the top of the world.

I guess I best get to it, then.

Laughter Lost

Mrs. Doubtfire came out shortly after my parents split. I was 9 years old, and that movie was one of the things that taught me that being a child of divorce might suck, but it was survivable. And sometimes, it was even, believe it or not, the best outcome for a family. 

I watched Aladdin eleven times the day I got it in the mail. We were poor, not destitute but definitely struggling, and the story of a diamond in the rough gave me hope. My Aunt bought it for us, and it painted a picture for us of a brighter future.

I have never in my life laughed as hard as I did watching his Live on Broadway in a cramped dorm room at Rice University in the summer of 2002. To this day, the magnitude and depth of every laugh is measured against that afternoon.

Patch Adams helped me understand what kind of a healer I wanted to be.

One day shortly after I started teaching English, I did it. I climbed up on a desk and exclaimed loudly, passionately about the magic and wonder and virtue of words. Of writing. I had seen my hero, my genie, my funny faced fantasmo do it, and I had believed. And I like to think that for a moment, just the briefest of moments, so did my students.

I knew he was a hero. I'm not sure until tonight that I realized to what degree or precisely why.

(Originally published on Facebook.)

Rest in peace, Funny Man. 

***

I'm not sure how many people read this, but if you're someone who struggles with depression and/or addiction, don't give up. 

There are people who can help, even if you've fallen down the rabbit hole once or twice or a dozen times before. 

There are people who love you, no matter what lies your disease whispers in your ears. 

There are people who understand what you're going through. I'm one of them. Let me help.

Let someone help.

American Foundation for Suicide Prevention
www.afsp.org

National Suicide Prevention Hotline
1-800-273-8255

We Interrupt This Blog to Bring You Some Thoughts on Basketball

It's hard to write about the San Antonio Spurs and not tell you about how much I love them, how I admire their dedication, fearlessness, and character. How for me they epitomize everything I love about sports in general and, in so many ways, the basic tenet held most tightly by my heart-that good should always triumph. The good guys, the ones who don't boast, who are the very embodiment of sportsmanship, as far as I'm concerned, are the ones who should always take the trophy at the end of the day.

But all of you know how I feel about this team, and I'm sure you can imagine how I feel today, as the Spurs tilt one more time towards the windmills carried to this court by time and age.

So let me say something else, instead.

Let me note that no matter what my heart may wish, no matter what all of our hearts may desire, the good guys, the team players, the soft speakers and respectful heroes DO NOT ALWAYS WIN. Not in "real" life, not on the battlefield, and most particularly not in basketball. If they did win more often than not, Stockton and Malone would have won in '97, and definitely in '98. They were good guys, who had worked so hard for so long, and they deserved it. You knew that in your heart.

But they didn't win, because sometimes, oftentimes, the best team doesn't win. The best player does. And as much as I would love to turn Jordan and James into the bad guys and rage about an unfair world, that's not really what it comes down to. Instead, it comes down to a simple truth that I learned a long, long time ago:

There is always someone better. Always. Someone stronger, faster, smarter, taller, wiser, or any other adjective that you can come up with.

That's what the Spurs are faced with, what we are all faced with at some point in our lives. That someone better. In the Spurs case, it is, of course, LeBron James. Arguing about whether or not he is the best player on the planet today is pointless. He simply is, whether you like it or not. And as I consider this game tonight, I'm reminded of all of those moments where the best player wins. That's how the world works-transcendental, generational athletes, leaders, visionaries carry their team to a higher ground, and it is so very, very hard to overcome that particular flavor of greatness.

And yet.

And yet, once in a while, they don't win. Once in a while, greatness can be overcome by desire, by a need so deep and mighty that it can overcome the inertia of greatness.

Once in a while, miracles happen, as one happened in Lake Placid in 1980. A team can come together and function as one, as something unbelievably greater than the sum of their parts.  And you know what?

That sum is far greater than any individual can hope to be.

Now, just being a good team doesn't automatically mean that this is going to be the outcome. But it is something fantastic that we can yearn for.

It's what I'm yearning for every day lately, as I spend all of my time studying the seemingly endless ways a human body can break down in the face of living. That I can learn enough so that I and my fellow healthcare professionals can, as a team, as a group, gain some ground in the war on suffering.

It's what we yearn for when we teach our children the Golden Rule, that loving and trusting others can bring us all to a place where the unrelenting cruelness of a violent, angry world cannot touch us.

And it's what I am yearning for in this NBA finals that begins tonight.

Something fantastic. Because every fantastic moment that we can string together keeps us hoping for the next one.

So. Once more into the breach, dear friends.

#GoSpursGo

Thoughts on #YesAllWomen

(Most of this comes from a status that I posted on Facebook a little while ago, but I wanted to reproduce it here for anyone who might miss it there.)

Father Christopher Arnold is a priest in the Episcopal Church and a friend of mine and herself. In fact, he was the priest at St. Mary's Episcopal Church in Middlesboro, KY when we decided to try out that church, and I can say with 100% certainty that the open arms of he and his amazing wife, combined with his intense dedication to his faith and evident calling, were what guided us to a place where we could realize what a wonderful fit the Episcopal Church is for our family. 

He's good people.

This morning, his sermon discussed the #YesAllWomen movement that has been consuming Twitter over the past week or two. Here's a link to his sermon. (While you're there, check out some of his other sermons as well-he's a fantastic writer in my opinion, and well worth the read.)

http://www.fatherchristopher.org/?p=992

Now, you may not be a Christian, but words like those written by Father Chris in his sermon are important for all of us to hear, regardless of creed.

They are words that we have heard over and over, that you can hardly avoid seeing plastered all over the internet these days, that we should never forget that while NotAllMen are Elliott Rodger, YesAllWomen do live in fear of men like him. And that is horrifically, terribly wrong.

All violence against women is Evil, as Chris point out, and there is no denying this point, no gray areas when it comes to this topic. And it is an evil that we must fight against with every fiber of our being.

It's possible that some of you may look at this post and say to yourselves that you are sick of all this constant chatter, that things aren't really that bad, that all these whiny women should get over it.

You'd be wrong.

The most shocking thing in my life is the number of female friends and loved ones I have who are victims of abuse, whether sexual, physical, and/or mental. And until we can say that YesAllMen understand and respect the bodies, minds, and souls of AllWomen instead of NotAllMen, then we will keep shouting these words over and over and over.

Good Intentions

To borrow that well-used phrase, if I had a nickel for every blog post that I've read over the years that said something along the lines of "Well, I meant to post regularly, but...", I'd be able to pay a sizeable portion of my educational debt down.

Two credit hours, perhaps. Maybe even three.

So I won't throw those words out here. Instead, I'll state proudly that life happens, that you have an organ give out on you (and me not even thirty! Yet. So soon.), that you and your family welcome a bundle of squirming, shitting, sleeping, stupendous Sam into the world, that you manage to survive another year of medical school, and that those things are triumphs aplenty. 

But just in case you wondered...I'm still here. Still eyeballing the world slantly, and picking through all the thoughts to find the stories worth telling. Because while all stories may need to be told, at some time or another, I think there are some that specifically I am meant to tell. 

So. Keep on being amazing, folks, and we'll chat some more soon.

Thoughts on test week and rejection letters and several interesting links.

So, another test week done and gone. Managed to survive this one, and fairly well, much to my surprise. I'm chalking this semester's improved grades up to a return to basics, if you will, in which I remember and consistently apply the knowledge that I am first and foremost a reader, a lover of words, and attempt to do as much of my studying as possible in that fashion.

Apparently it's working. Here's hoping it continues to do so.

And with last Monday's block exam done and gone, it's adios Cardio/Respiratory/Renal systems and on to the Hematology/Lymphatic and Reproductive systems, the latter of which I greet with some trepidation as I'm not particularly looking forward to going through the Repro system while my wife navigates the tumultuous and hormone-fueled funfest that is the THIRD TRIMESTER (I know, I can't believe she's that far along either.).

Why the trepidation, you ask? Well, the second year of medical school involves a lot of time (and by a lot, I mean pretty much ALL) spent focusing on all of the things that can go wrong with the human body. By nature, I tend to be the kind of guy who worries about things to be begin with, turning them over and over in my mind until I'm ready to implode and go all black hole beneath the accumulated weight of anxiety. And to be honest, combining that with the already present concerns of pregnancy just doesn't seem like the most fun to me.

Yet my mantra for the year is to try and be a more positive human being, so I'm going to do my damndest and NOT worry.

I'll let you know how that goes.

Let's see...what else is going on. Managed two submissions to some short fiction markets in the last week or two. One rejection came back yesterday, which isn't really surprising as while I think the story is off to a good start, I can't shake the conviction that something is missing, some key element to pull it all together. I think it's a plot problem as I'm fairly happy with the setting, character, and style, but I haven't managed to sort it out just yet. I'm going to let it percolate in my ol' noggin for a few days and see if I get anywhere with it before tossing it out into the ether again.

Although that brings up an interesting point: the dilemma of whether or not I should focus on continuing efforts to publish short fiction or if I should move on and attempt to write something of novel length. As far as money and career opportunities are concerned, novels are definitely the way to go as short fiction just can't really cut it in either of those two categories any more, particularly not in spec fic.

But I'll be honest-I have this nagging concern that my inability to get any of my short fiction published in the past three plus years means that my writing isn't quite up to snuff yet, and I worry about pouring all of the time and effort into producing a longer work if I'm not really ready for it yet. I mean, it's not like there's really a surplus of time in my life right now.

On the other hand, writing is like every other skill; you only improve by doing. And I do have an idea for a multi-book series, most likely a trilogy, that contains a setting, characters, and conflict that have been rattling around my brain for over a year now and are starting to clamor loudly to get out. I've spent my whole life reading epic fantasy and series sci/fi, and perhaps that has hardwired my brain to be best suited for longer works.

So I think I'm going to try and do that. Be warned: you should expect numerous frustrated posts concerning my attempts to get this thing done. I'll try to do so fairly regularly so any of you who might take delight in that sort of authorly schadenfreude can eat your heart out. Or, you know, offer the occasional bit of reassurance.

It'll be an interesting journey. Right now, I have two other projects that I'm working on (a musical and a TV show idea, if you really must know), both of which I'm really excited about as they involve collaborations with two of my favorite people. As each of those taps into a different part of my creative mind, I think that working on a fantastic (both in genre and, hopefully, quality) novel will help round that out nicely, particularly as the analytic portion of my brain is subsumed by the juggernaut that is school.

And there you have it. That's what's going on in my neck of the woods. Now I"ll leave you with a few interesting links that I've stumbled across this morning (descriptions of said links are below the links themselves):

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-22751415

In which you learn why Finnish babies sleep in cardboard boxes. Trust me, it's fascinating.

http://designtaxi.com/news/361484/Ad-Shows-The-World-s-Popular-Opinions-Of-Women-Using-Search-Engine/

I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Our children deserve so much better than the world as it stands right now. This ad uses a search engine to show the world's opinions of women, and many of them are just as depressing as you  might imagine. But the images and brief commentary offer a perfect counterpoint and commentary, I think.

http://www.freesfonline.de/index.html

This is a site I came across this morning that collects links to various authors' speculative fiction online and organizes it according to said authors so that you can select find your favorite sf author and have quick access to places where their work has been published online. There's nothing pirated as the links take you to online magazines and what not where the works have been published.  (I'm not sure this summary actually explains it all that well, so head over there on your own and browse to see what I mean.)

http://kenliu.name/binary/liu_the_man_who_ended_history.pdf

And here's a link to "The Man Who Ended History", a novella by the depressingly fantastic Ken Liu. If you haven't read anything by him, you really should, which is why I'm recommending you start with this, my favorite work of his. It won a number of awards several years ago, and deservedly so.

http://www.fantasy-magazine.com/new/new-fiction/choose-your-own-adventure/

While I'm giving links to some of my favorite short fiction, I'll go ahead and toss a link up to Kat Howard's "Choose Your Own Adventure." This appeared in Fantasy Magazine a few years ago and is, I think, wonderful. Kat is, like Ken Liu, a terrifically talented young writer on the sf scene and has quickly become someone whose work I read automatically whenever it comes out. If you're interested in learning more about either of these writers, here's the links to their websites:

Ken's: http://kenliu.name/

Kat's: strangeink.blogspot.com 

Ok. That's it for today, I think. Catch you all on the flip side.

"As Others Dance"

Shall we dream, you and I?

Let us have the audacity, let us be filled with temerity.

Let us dream together as others dance,

let us tangle our vibrant needs like legs in bed sheets.

Let us yearn as one for the hazy promise of possibility

while others content themselves with lust and love that are merely

ordinary.

Let us wander through the night

like tourists through the streets of Rome,

like a comet tracing a trail through the vacuum,

like two forgotten orphans searching for a home.

Let us wrestle with cliches and doubts

like heroes with lions: you and I,

back to back against the world,

grinning madly at the wonder of it all.

If we do nothing else for as long as we breath,

let us do this, so fiercely that

the electric symphony in our minds

will echo and linger

long after we cease to be.

Shall we dream?