Elizabeth Gilbert: Your Elusive Creative Genius

At present, I am struggling to write an article for publishing, after an incredibly long hiatus.

My writing brain feels atrophied. It feels like my genius has left me.

Something that used to come so naturally, now feels forced and staggered.

Inaccessible, unattainable, just barely out of my reach - but I know it's there, and that's what frustrates me.

But the more I try, the more I feel like I'm making progress. I'm finding my way back and opening up inwards.

When I was much younger, after writing a song or a poem, I would often look at my work and feel that I'm looking at something that I did not create, but instead, something that was already in existence all along, just waiting for me to pen it to paper.

And in that realisation, I would feel like a puzzle piece; part of a larger whole. I felt both humbled and honoured to be part of this bigger picture.

Over the years, one of the most important things that I've realised about writing and my other creative pursuits is this.

As with all things, perfect practice makes perfect. There is no shortcut to this rule, regardless of whether you're 13 years old or 31 years old.

This means, that if you have a skill that is important enough to you to want to excel in, you have to make time for it. You have to work at it, and you have to perfect it. Use it or lose it.

When I first enrolled into medicine, I promised myself that I would retain my literary and artistic skills throughout my course. What I didn't know then that I know now is just how difficult it is to do that.

However, letting that part of you atrophy is dangerous. You lose so much from it; most important of which is your sense of self.

What I'm learning at this stage of my life is to now and then take myself away from medicine and nourish my little genie.

And, in the long run? I have no doubt that I will be a better doctor for it.