How fragile we are

One would think that with me wanting to be a doctor, seeing corpses on a daily basis, drawing dissected people, it would have hit me beforehand - but it didn't. It took a Human Nervous System class opening a rat for me to realise just how very fragile we are. 

It need not be by spear, by steal and flesh becoming one. It need not be by incredible force, or dramatic hit that the body can fail. As I watched the rat - already drowsy and motionless being pinned onto a cork board by hands and feet, in a gruesome resemblance to a crucifixion, I had no reaction but to feel my stomach turning in itself watching the beating heart exposed and the inner organs spilling out carelessly. With a small guillotine the body was soon headless and with a pair of scissors and tweezers the brain and every nerve was soon exposed. Scissors and tweezers. That was what exposed the main organ giving this rat thought, reaction, emotion, life. All of nature's endeavour to protect the brain and cerebellum, quickly pushed aside by human ability to 'solve problems'. 

It was during those brief moments, a bit less then an hour, that all my dreams and all of humanities problems seemed so pointless. You can work as much as you want for a perfect body, to dress it glamorously and have beautiful hair - it won't change it's destination. You can work as much as you want, fight as much as you want for money, success, diplomas, recognition and some spark of glory - you can't take any of those to the grave any more than you brought into the world when you arrived. It seemed plainly pointless that we should obsess over such small trivialities in our day to day life, if we have the main thing: life itself. 

We can be easily opened, pulled, turned inside out, torn apart and sticked together - but we aren't, we are amongst the living. Our body is constantly functioning to keep us alive, and well, and instead of being thankful for that and living according to this thankfulness for what we have, for having so many loved ones near us that too have survived this hostile world, that are so incredibly significant in ability to think, create, write a song or a poem - and most of all - love and be loved, we still dwell upon issues so fickle. 

Maybe we do not see this fragility, and that is why we obsess over these things. Or maybe it is because we do see this fragility that we seek with such ambition to be notorious, astounding, glorious and exceptional in skill, knowledge, beauty. We do not wish to be forgotten. But by seeking to not be forgotten by the world, maybe we fail to be remembered in a good way. Maybe we fail to be remembered in love, by those closest to us, preferring to be known by strangers than loved by close ones. How many times have I not left family, friends, loved ones aside for career, knowledge, recognition? To 'make a name', to be known? To get a better grade on a diploma that may very well never be looked at? 

What are we doing with our days? Are we doing with our days what we want our lives to be remembered for? Maybe we need to be reminded of our fragility, so that while it does not catch up on us, we can still correct our path and live with meaning more than ambition. 

"If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are

On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are"
- Fragile, by Sting