Brainworks

I finished reading Uncle Tungsten: Memories of a Chemical Boyhood  by Dr. Oliver Sacks. I am astounded by Dr. Sacks' intelligence. The man is truly amazing. The book chronicles his childhood, growing up with an extended family of scientists and doctors who were willing to share their knowledge with this little boy and allow him to pursue his interests with few restrictions. Why he didn't blow up or burn down his home, I don't know. Lady luck and perhaps, a higher power were smiling upon him, knowing that he was destined for greater things.

The book deals mainly with his pursuit of chemistry, but he had far ranging interests. He very briefly touches upon his family's musical ability. Everyone played an instrument (or several) and music was an integral part of their daily lives. He talks about staying in a fancy hotel in Switzerland after the war and how he decided he wanted to give a piano recital. Although he had not played in over a year, he knew all of Chopin's mazurkas by heart. I'm talking about a child of about 11 years old (I don't have the book to refer back to, so my memory, which isn't as amazing as Dr. Sacks', may have his age slightly off). Anyway, his parents talked to the hotel management and they agreed to put up announcements for the young English pianist to perform in their ballroom. Dressed in his best suit, he played his first and only concert, mightily enjoying the applause and audience interaction.

Now, what boggles my mind is the fact that playing piano was really not his main interest. This performance was just something that he did for fun and on a whim, more or less. Still, he possessed the ability to pull it off. This is why I find the human brain astonishing and frustrating. Frustrating, because we don't get to choose our abilities and match them with our passions. I've wondered all my life why I was given such a desire to play piano and yet, was given no natural ability. My brain isn't wired to easily play and memorize music. I have tried to ignore and put aside the longing, but it just doesn't go away. My solution is to keep plugging away, playing for myself, hoping new connections will form inside this brain of mine.

Dear Dr. Sacks, although your life has not always been easy (particulary those years in boarding school), you have been truly blessed with a wonderful brain and you have used it to help countless people. I am so grateful that you have chosen to write books which stimulate and inspire us.

Enjoy life to the fullest!