Hari Ramkrishnan: When Mountains Speak
I see the most opportunity for personal growth in grit, being inspired by works by Dr. Angela Duckworth, a renowned psychologist at
UPenn. As such I would like to share a reflection on a summer trip traveling in the heart of Wyoming.
I am surrounded by nature's expanse, feeling simultaneously insignificant and in awe in its vastness. There's a humbling sensation that comes from standing in front of a colossal mountain or listening to the unyielding waves crashing on the shore; a reminder of the limitations of human power.
The months leading up to this moment were a whirlwind. My life was dominated by 60-hour workweeks driven by my passions on top of the relentless pace of med-school applications. I was on the brink of burnout. One frenzied night, I packed hastily for our family trip, leaving behind essential gear like my jacket and boots. Our destination, remote and serene, also meant no Wi-Fi, which struck panic in me as applications loomed.
Mother Nature seemed to sense my anxiety; our hikes were shrouded in clouds and soon after, a pouring rain drenched me to the core. Cold and miserable, I questioned my decision to be here. However, as I trudged on, wet and cold, guilt crept in. This trip, a gift from my hard-working parents, was becoming a victim of my self-pity.
Reflecting, I realized I'd faced harsher conditions. There were times I'd passionately clocked 17-hour workdays alternating working with my kids as a camp counselor then running experiments in the lab before coming home at 2 am, or served on service missions with modest accommodations, working tirelessly. Never once did I regret those moments because they had a purpose. The difference now was a misalignment of vacation expectations and reality. Amidst the discomfort and unexpected challenges of the Wyoming wilderness, I found myself at a crossroads. The realization that my past endeavors, though grueling, were infused with a sense of purpose, became a catalyst for a deeper introspection.
Life's meaning is ours to discover. My vision is clear: I aspire to build communities, be dependable, and leave a legacy that continues to benefit others. Despite life's hardships, I'd never forsake it, knowing my potential impact on at least one other person.
AI may one day replicate human functions, even surpassing us in capabilities. But what distinguishes us from robots? AI, designed as a tool, serves a predefined purpose. Humans, on the other hand, are ever-evolving in our search for meaning. We persist beyond specific missions, continuously seeking purpose in an ever-changing world.
Our existence wasn't preordained with purpose; initially, it was about survival. But as survival became easier, our quest pivoted to seeking deeper meaning. Our experiences, interactions, and memories shape us, even as our physical form is constantly changing.
Based on data on irreplaceable cells, I estimated while 98% of our body's cells are replaced every 7-10 years, memories persist. It is these memories, experiences, and the quest for meaning that define our humanity, setting us apart from any machine.
In the end, amidst Wyoming's wilderness, I discovered a renewed appreciation for the beauty of life, its challenges, and the endless quest for meaning. The memories etched during this journey will continue to live with me; reminding me, as I endure hardship and those of others during my medical training and throughout my career as a physician-scientist, to ask myself WHY I am doing what I am doing, and I will overcome any how.