My Latest Read: Oliver Sacks

I'm currently reading Oliver Sacks's book, Uncle Tungsten. I'm no scientist, but I have a definite interest, albeit short attention span, in science, psychology, technology, ethics. They are all constantly expanding the borders of our knowledge, whether in inner space, like the brain and the body, or outer space, as in the earth, the stars and the universe we call home. "Facts" can be fluid things. I once read that if you look at an ordinary wooden table and touch it, smell it, even taste it, it seems so solid. But if you look at a slice of the wood closer up, it seems more delicate, maybe even fragile. Look in a microscope and you see the layers of cells. Further still, in the electron microscope or suchlike, and what seemed fragile and delicate barely seems to hold together at all, at best tenuous. To me, what we call facts are equally tenuous when looked at closely enough for real examination. Sometimes, we all believe in some particular thing that we're absolutely sure is a fact, and then some new piece of information comes in at some later date, and everything you thought you knew was true comes into question. Think about it. What do you do, what can you think when it's something that you have based your entire existence upon, pinned all your hopes and dreams to, and then one day, you find out that the thing you were absolutely sure about is as full of holes as swiss cheese. Do you stubbornly cling to the beliefs you held previously, without further questioning or pushing the envelope? Or does it cause you to fill up with questions, seek what answers you can, contemplate all the new information you now have and then ask yourself if this has to change your beliefs irrevocably or if you can make room in them for the new information? No one but you can decide what you should do.

Personally, I think that if I'm the one going through this particular process in my belief system, I have to seek what answers I can from people or sources I respect and/or who can prove the fact scientifically. I look for as many of these sources as I can and listen carefully to all of them, and then sit with it for a while and contemplate how I feel about it. How sure can I be that these people are trustworthy? Or that they have nothing to gain by a particular viewpoint?

If I have chosen my sources well, there will be much to think about. And if I decide that my strongly held beliefs need a drastic change, it takes a certain amount of courage to change one's beliefs, but if it's something that makes it impossible to see things in the same way again, there really is only one choice, isn't there? If you don't change, you become a hypocrite who pretends to still espouse the same beliefs, both to yourself and to others. And how can you respect yourself then?

In Oliver Sacks' fondly remembered childhood, growing up in London during the Blitz, he seems to be able to recall how his mind started questioning the world around him and his family's tolerance for his passionate interest in chemistry and metals. He lets you in on his secret world of chemistry experiments and questions about how things work in nature and in new inventions during his formative years. He comes from a bright and interesting family and Sacks's tale has manages to fascinate me with things that don't usually draw my attention for very long. He speaks of his love for different metals and stones and chemicals and tells you why he loves or came to love these things and the reasons are frequently poetic and sometimes romantic in a way removed from interpersonal definitions of romance.

This is the same man who wrote "Awakenings", which was based on his research and experimentation with comatose patients. He also wrote "The Man Who Mistook His Wife For A Hat", a fascinating and loving account of the awe he feels for the patients he meets who have learned to cope with devastating brain traumas and diseases which make normal everyday cognition impossible for them. But each one he discusses finds ways to make life make sense for them. One writes in a notebook all the time so he can remember the day that just passed. Another can sing but not talk. I imagine the expression on Sacks' face to be one of fascination and admiration for the huge effort these people make to make the world make sense to them at least a little. I like that in a clinician.

So here I am reading a book filled with chemistry and the history of chemicals, lightbulbs, scientific inventions and the background of the inventors- things I wouldn't normally be interested in, but when I catch Sacks' enthusiasm, I can see the splendor of the worlds he moves in, which are the less visible realms of the natural world. And Sacks's splendid, inquisitive mind, and respect for people and for the earth make it worth the slog through the chemicals. I have found out things which make them more interesting to me now, though.

Question your beliefs on pretty much any subject, especially the ones you hold onto tightly to get through the day. Ask yourself if there is something you aren't hearing or seeing as it truly is because it would disrupt your beliefs. Then if the answer is yes, see what you think about that. People have made amazing discoveries in this century in medicine, technology, communications, philosophy, etc. and they generally find these new things by getting beyond their belief structures and asking questions of themselves, their peers, and the universe and looking for the answers themselves. Shouldn't you?