I’ve spent time in the last couple weeks away from my keyboard. Or longer perhaps.

• Not that I haven’t written about deaths and traumas at work in my charting during my shifts.
• Not that I haven’t spent time on my iPhone and iPad thumb boards, tweeting and facebooking and sharing photos after runs.
• Not that I haven’t written a couple of new posts here, along with some of my edits and reruns and words from Paul and Rich.

But one of the ways that I think is with my fingers on a keyboard, writing about what’s been happening so that I can understand it a little. And in my best moments, that happens in my study at home, feet on my desk, turning on the switch in my brain that allows me to turn off the other projects for a bit to think.

This thinking and reflecting matters. At least to me, perhaps to you.

Without this time, I forget the moments of delight that have come in the last month. Sunsets. Germany. Sunsets in Germany. Conversations with patients about the Whataburger on South Padre Island. Ben.

Without this time, I forget the brainstorms I was working on, the projects I started that will bear fruit in months and years more than in minutes. Knowing better how to be helpful in times of loss. Remembering the reflections on Mark that faded away as the year went on.

Without this time, I lose track.

A couple weeks ago, I made a note of the value of doing an annual review during the next month or two. Setting time aside to be honest about what went well, about what could have gone better, about what I want to work on in the next few months.

As we start November, as we brace for Advent, as we watch our time fall back, I invite you to join me. On a keyboard or not.