Rituals are important. Large or small, they help us to make order from chaos.

When asked to name a specific ritual, people usually think of the big ones- weddings, funerals, rites of spring and summer. Yet small rituals are equally important-the daily shower, the weekly meet with friends at the bar, the hour set aside to read or write before bed to calm the mind.

In the grand scheme of things, I have no power or influence over the equinox, or when the future Mrs Doctor J will enter my life. Yet I can easily create a plan to listen to jazz while I cook dinner, to shut off the tv for an hour before bed, to go to the gym in my building. However, after almost 3 months of general inertia, restarting my own daily routine is a herculean effort

Do anything long enough and it becomes second nature. Unfortunately, with my constant flitting about, and irregular work schedule, my second nature settled slowly into tv watching as I gradually regressed into an undergraduate again, spending my days in leisure with few to no responsibilities. Nice as it was, in the long run it was terrible for me.

So here I sit, fighting the very laws of physics with my mind, trying to figure out which puzzle blocks I intend to piece into the new me. What is my weird? Not weird in the sense of strange, but in the old greek sense of the word.

Before it took on its common meaning, your weird was your destiny. The one thing you were put on this earth that only you, and nobody else can accomplish. It is a fate that can be glorious or tragic, and is destined only for you. You dont have to fulfill your weird, and you may not even knowingly discover it, but if you find and choose to embrace it, you will never lack purpose in your life.

So as I continue my self revision, I find certain motifs repeatedly cropping up in my life, nagging suspicions that they are part of a greater whole. Am I on the right path? Am I on a path at all? I must be doing something right-I have a job, friends and family who care about me, I’m better off than 90% of the worlds population-yet I dont wake up feeling that incredible sense of fulfillment that some people just cant help but radiate

Not that I’m depressed or feel my life is meaningless-far from it. I just wonder if I already missed my calling for another, or if it has yet to be presented to me. And if so, how will I recognize it?

Weird, no?

-Doctor J

Anonymity is both blessing and curse.  On the one hand, with none of my potential readership knowing me, I am safe to portray or invent myself however I chose. Yet even if the online me isnt a partial or total fabrication, how much of the real life me gets left behind.

The last decade of blogging has been devoted to my medical exploits. The years before that to my exploration of the internet and what amused me as I began to develop my own writing style. As Josh 2.0 continues to develop, it’s a bit daunting and humbling to realize just how true that 24 hour people byline has become. I have a dedicated persona people have come to expect here, though I feel like I have totally lost touch with that aspect of myself in recent times.

So for a while, to avoid any potential obstacles with my new employers while I establish myself, it’s time to drift away from the medical blogging. I’m no longer an idealistic med student blogging my journey of self discovery. Neither am I an established physician and science blogger like KevinMD or DrGrumpy. In point of fact, I’m not entirely sure who I am anymore, and in the months to come, I am returning to writing to try and figure it out.

So as always bear with me as I undergo some personal construction. Although I may still comment on my medical life, it’s time to shift the focus of this blog to some questions of philosophy and self discovery.  A bit of a regression as the prodigal son returns to the midwest and sets out to accomplish one cool thing every weekend, to resume online conversations with fellow bloggers of like intellectual pursuits and gets on with the pursuit of life, liberty and happiness.

Dont worry though, deep down I remain deplorably, adorably immature. I just have to figure out what shell to pull over this creamy nougat center.

Turning in the virtual pager after a looong call,

Doctor J