This past weekend has been spent surrounded by very inspiring individuals. Makers, do-ers, discoverers, searchers. And yet all so humble. I suppose that is what drives the medical profession, or scientists in general. We are usually never satisfied.
Right now I am frustrated at myself with my lack of motivation and inspiration. With my lack of purpose. It feels pointless and frustrating to live like this. A life with purpose is everything. Find purpose and you have everything. Purpose can always change. But to live without it is meaningless. It is a waste.
I know that I will find purpose again, however, right now I am in limbo. I know that I should be studying for the NAVLE, which I am. But that is purpose in itself. There is no passion behind it. Purpose should be self-driven. You cannot help but think about it. You cannot help but obsess about it. I want to find that something again. My dangerous love, where are you??
The Japanese have a method of repair which is termed kintsugi or wabi sabi. The metaphor of this philosophy is quite beautiful. When an object is broken, say a plate or bowl, it is subsequently fixed with gold. The original object is made stronger. The imperfections are not hidden, they are highlighted and they are what make that object unique.
Such is resilience and such is life. Lately, I've been a bit harsh on myself with comparing to how things were or how I wish they could be. However, resilience means not giving up and pushing on despite setbacks and so-called imperfections. I am made more valuable by being broken, over and over again.
The room is illuminated by two surgical lights emanating a cool blue tinge to the patient on the table. Ribs retracted, the slow, steady hum of the bypass machine in the background accentuated by the steady heart rate beeps. "Pressure?!" bellows the primary surgeon before the cardioplegic solution is pumped into coronary circulation causing arrest.
The procedure starts, four sets of eyes follow as a cut is made into the fleshy red tissue. The device is placed into the designated valve and slowly the incision is sutured. A small pucker remains on the ivy leaf shaped left auricle. As the heart starts returning from arrest it squirms and quivers, like a bag of worms. Fibrillation.
"Paddles!! Charge to 150!" bellows the surgeon as all hands leave the table. Thud. "Charge to 200!" Thud. All eyes are on the fleshy organ that has now developed mild bruising. Will it beat with all this damage? Resilience triumphs today as it cardioconverts back into rhythm and re…