Heavy Lifting

I don't want to be one of those friends that only calls when bad things happen to them. I know the regularity of posting since August has left much to be desired, but as I introduced in my other blog recently, there has been a reason for this: I've been birthing. Not a baby but a concept. 

Sadly, this coincided with Larry's illness and the moving of home and business. 

In a few short weeks everything is different. 

This takes deep skills. To process. To manage and to filter. 

Skills I might add that do not naturally run optimally at high speeds for me.

Writing just became too much. The therapeutic nature of the blogs and the reason I began them couldn't be exercised because I couldn't/can't process all the events happening at the same time. 

I totally get 'micro-blogging' not that I didn't before. It has been the only means that I've been able to keep consistentlyish connected with my own inner dialogue and the mysterious healing process of putting words on a page or in this case a screen. 

I was thinking about all of this stuff today in between bouts of profound despair about Larry and life without him when I happened across an article in the Science section of today's New York Times. It begins:

 "James W. Pennebaker's interest in word counting began more than 20 years ago, when he did several studies suggesting that people who talked about traumatic experiences tended to be physically healthier than those who kept such experiences secret." 

If this is true maybe everything will be okay. 

Read for yourself here. 

Twitter here.