Thoughts from When Breath Becomes Air
I recently finished listening to Paul Kalanithi’s “When Breath Becomes Air”. It is a story about a gifted neurosurgeon’s short-lived life, and his ruminations on what makes life meaningful.
It is heart-wrenchingly beautiful. I listened to the book as I went to work, and I used to get into work with tears in my eyes. I’m not sure if it was the best idea for me to listen to it versus actually read it, as the prose was so exquisite. When the book ended (with Paul’s death), I was so heartbroken- it felt as though I had lost a close friend.
There were some ideas in the book that resonated with me deeply:
Waiting to Start Living
In his own words, Paul waited for ten years to start “living”. He had an extremely demanding job at the hospital that left no time for anything else.
Our culture exemplifies the lack of self control people have, with everyone opting for instant gratification. However, Paul seemed to be at the other end of the spectrum. He knew what we wanted, made a plan to have it and worked patiently towards it throughout 3 degrees and a difficult residency. And yet, when the time came for him to enjoy the fruits of his labour (described in the book as becoming an established neurosurgeon-neuroscientist, spending time with his wife, starting a family), it was cruelly taken away from him by the sudden onset of Cancer.
What is the lesson here? Is it that we should live in the moment? Or, as the Gita’s Nishkaama Karma would say — “Do your duty but do not expect the results”. If we assume that there’s no light at the end of the tunnel, perhaps we can accept that the journey through the tunnel is indeed what life is about, and try to enjoy the process.
How do you decide what to do with your life when you know you have limited time left?
Paul described this quandary eloquently. He told his doctor that if he had five to ten years, he would go back to neurosurgery. If he had a year, he would write a book. And if it was 3 months, he would spend time with family. “The pedestrian truth that you live one day at a time didn’t help: What was I supposed to do with that day?”
Unfortunately, there was no way to know for sure how long he would have. Regardless, I was amazed with his clarity of thought. He was very clear what he wanted to do, if he was provided with an indication of how much time he had left. Constraints have a way of providing answers to difficult questions.
The philosophy of “living fully until I am dead”
Paul struggled with the question on whether to have a baby or not, given his condition. Having a baby would mean adding in one more layer of complication and surely take precious time away from the rest of his family and life. He and Lucy decided to go for it, embracing a philosophy of fully living until death actually knocked on the door.
I cannot even begin to imagine the emotions that must have coursed through Lucy, as she saw her husband person dying and her daughter being brought into the world. But, the alternative, i.e. to wait for death would have been equally impossible. Ultimately, it is the same philosophy that prompted Paul to write this book and share his story with the rest of the world — an attempt to live on in this world, although physically absent.
It was truly one of the best books I’ve ever read. I’m looking forward to revisiting it in a few years, to uncover more layers and more meaning.
