- Joined
- Dec 8, 2002
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- 9
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I find myself this time of year being more emotionally affected by events in life. Fall brings the end of life cycles and a constant reminder of mortality as days grow shorter and winter approaches. Sometimes the smell of the air is enough to initiate a day of somber thought.
We're covering population biology and ecology in bio right now and it is a very difficult study. The lectures are on the rapidly growing human population, the dwindling resources and ecosystems, and the accelerating rate of these conditions. It is very hard to withstand a barrage of numbers "4% of natural wetlands remain" "The human population is doubling every 27-35 years" "If all water on earth is represented by 26 gallons, 1/4 teaspoon is available for drinking" etc.
We, people who have completed college study, are among the tiny percentage of humans on earth who have been exposed to this information in a real way, and it can feel like a terrible burden. I am reminded by the professors that knowledge is power, and global change begins with personal change, but it can be overwhelming.
I took an introduction political science class several years ago that reversed the way I saw the US and how I interpreted events on the news. Cynicism became the filter of choice with which to view the world and I joined the ranks of armchair activists who cursed the US and all of its loathsome habits. I don't think that's a sustainable or productive way of being because it leads to a downward spiral. At some point in that line of thinking (look at all the ignorant Americans in their SUVs, look at the trash that passes for news, you can't trust anything, everything and everyone is driven by money) leads to the discovery that you are not exempt from the cycle. I am an American, and regardless of how much I cut back on personal luxuries I still have ready access to computers and cars and hybrid crops and use them. What then? What options is one presented with upon the realization that the "everything is wrong" philosophy applies to oneself?
Well at first, I thought it meant that there was nothing to be done. I continued my college education that was overtly billed as job training and wondered why I constantly felt unsatisfied. You can't lie to yourself forever, and I eventually dropped out. It, fortunately, turned into taking a break. I did get more and more furious at stupid Americans and the futility of trying to do anything and the futility of howling about it. But I began to notice a few things. I did notice that I had a choice on what I could focus on and internalize and what I could accept and move past. I didn't have to bear the burden of cheap oil individually, it was ok to be aware of the problem, at least as a first step. The more that happened, the less I was knocked down by reality and the more I could at least allow the ideas to exist in my mind that yes, there were immense problems and no, there are not solutions yet, but that we are not necessarily doomed. I felt, oddly, the more I knew about these problems the more energy I had available to do small things against them. There was a spiritual comfort in knowing that it was ok if my beginning steps were small.
So then I had theories on the sources of those problems. Maybe there were fundamental things lacking or forgotten that made it incredibly difficult for average people to take inventory of their lives and realize that change was inevitable if we as a species were going to continue for more than 50 years. A general, dull sense of loneliness seems to pervade the general psyche, and I think that drives a lot of the desire to consume, to repeatedly fill a small void created by a deeper longing for love or connection. I think it was (and is) true for me. I still wondered, then, what could I do that was sustainable? I didn't want to lie awake at night with the screaming heebie-jeebies thinking that I was simply contributing to the consumption machine by designing newer and better things and ways, nor did I want to burn out at 40 having exhausted the mistaken idea that I could change things for all.
I was at a friend's graduation when I made an important connection. A faculty member was talking about the class of graduating medical students and I wondered why I hadn't considered medicine. Over the next few weeks I realized that that lifestyle choice could answer a lot of questions. It wasn't running away from the problem: there is intense devotion required and the large scale problems of being a human in the 21st century could not be ignored. It wasn't ignoring the problem: I didn't have to justify my choice with "Well, I'm providing for myself and family, what's wrong with that? You go to work, you come home. It's honorable." It could also help: perhaps I could be a physician that people would choose to confide in, and perhaps by doing that they would feel a little less lonely, a little less overwhelmed. Maybe, for some of my patients, a realization would occur of what is really missing, that it's not the nachos and DVDs, and that there is a different way. I don't think that's fantasy because I believe in the power of simple human connection, of creating a space - even if only 30 minutes - in a day for quiet and reflection.
I share this with you because I was reminded of this near-forgotten pathway to the discovery of the choice of medicine by my recent lectures in biology. I caught myself frustrated, again, with the human condition and our seeming lack of ability to recognize problems in their early stages. The cold, bleak feeling of conceptualizing a future containing the ghastly final stages of the end of man was familiar, and I re-arrived at the conclusion that I did feel solidly about why I was spending such enormous energy to earn a bachelor's degree to continue on to medical school. This time, at least, it took an hour instead of 3 years.
We're covering population biology and ecology in bio right now and it is a very difficult study. The lectures are on the rapidly growing human population, the dwindling resources and ecosystems, and the accelerating rate of these conditions. It is very hard to withstand a barrage of numbers "4% of natural wetlands remain" "The human population is doubling every 27-35 years" "If all water on earth is represented by 26 gallons, 1/4 teaspoon is available for drinking" etc.
We, people who have completed college study, are among the tiny percentage of humans on earth who have been exposed to this information in a real way, and it can feel like a terrible burden. I am reminded by the professors that knowledge is power, and global change begins with personal change, but it can be overwhelming.
I took an introduction political science class several years ago that reversed the way I saw the US and how I interpreted events on the news. Cynicism became the filter of choice with which to view the world and I joined the ranks of armchair activists who cursed the US and all of its loathsome habits. I don't think that's a sustainable or productive way of being because it leads to a downward spiral. At some point in that line of thinking (look at all the ignorant Americans in their SUVs, look at the trash that passes for news, you can't trust anything, everything and everyone is driven by money) leads to the discovery that you are not exempt from the cycle. I am an American, and regardless of how much I cut back on personal luxuries I still have ready access to computers and cars and hybrid crops and use them. What then? What options is one presented with upon the realization that the "everything is wrong" philosophy applies to oneself?
Well at first, I thought it meant that there was nothing to be done. I continued my college education that was overtly billed as job training and wondered why I constantly felt unsatisfied. You can't lie to yourself forever, and I eventually dropped out. It, fortunately, turned into taking a break. I did get more and more furious at stupid Americans and the futility of trying to do anything and the futility of howling about it. But I began to notice a few things. I did notice that I had a choice on what I could focus on and internalize and what I could accept and move past. I didn't have to bear the burden of cheap oil individually, it was ok to be aware of the problem, at least as a first step. The more that happened, the less I was knocked down by reality and the more I could at least allow the ideas to exist in my mind that yes, there were immense problems and no, there are not solutions yet, but that we are not necessarily doomed. I felt, oddly, the more I knew about these problems the more energy I had available to do small things against them. There was a spiritual comfort in knowing that it was ok if my beginning steps were small.
So then I had theories on the sources of those problems. Maybe there were fundamental things lacking or forgotten that made it incredibly difficult for average people to take inventory of their lives and realize that change was inevitable if we as a species were going to continue for more than 50 years. A general, dull sense of loneliness seems to pervade the general psyche, and I think that drives a lot of the desire to consume, to repeatedly fill a small void created by a deeper longing for love or connection. I think it was (and is) true for me. I still wondered, then, what could I do that was sustainable? I didn't want to lie awake at night with the screaming heebie-jeebies thinking that I was simply contributing to the consumption machine by designing newer and better things and ways, nor did I want to burn out at 40 having exhausted the mistaken idea that I could change things for all.
I was at a friend's graduation when I made an important connection. A faculty member was talking about the class of graduating medical students and I wondered why I hadn't considered medicine. Over the next few weeks I realized that that lifestyle choice could answer a lot of questions. It wasn't running away from the problem: there is intense devotion required and the large scale problems of being a human in the 21st century could not be ignored. It wasn't ignoring the problem: I didn't have to justify my choice with "Well, I'm providing for myself and family, what's wrong with that? You go to work, you come home. It's honorable." It could also help: perhaps I could be a physician that people would choose to confide in, and perhaps by doing that they would feel a little less lonely, a little less overwhelmed. Maybe, for some of my patients, a realization would occur of what is really missing, that it's not the nachos and DVDs, and that there is a different way. I don't think that's fantasy because I believe in the power of simple human connection, of creating a space - even if only 30 minutes - in a day for quiet and reflection.
I share this with you because I was reminded of this near-forgotten pathway to the discovery of the choice of medicine by my recent lectures in biology. I caught myself frustrated, again, with the human condition and our seeming lack of ability to recognize problems in their early stages. The cold, bleak feeling of conceptualizing a future containing the ghastly final stages of the end of man was familiar, and I re-arrived at the conclusion that I did feel solidly about why I was spending such enormous energy to earn a bachelor's degree to continue on to medical school. This time, at least, it took an hour instead of 3 years.
