We are more than the metaphoric reflections of modern life’s machinery. Our heart is not the emotionless cyclical drone of a pump. Our joints are not camshafts, nor our skin a plastic packaging. And while we often stare with amazement at the miracle of circuit boarded one/zero processing, our brains are not a reflection of computers; they are more like a rainforest.
We are not machines.
We are not a collection of interchangeable parts. Perhaps we dream of a day when tissue grown replacements of ourselves will aid with the repair of life’s wear and tear. But, from what I’ve seen unfold in the clinical practice of medicine; healing is not simply about making a problem go away. Sometimes, like opportunities that appear as obstructions amongst the pressure, discomfort and dark of illness , like a diamond being squeezed into brilliance; there is a process that can lead us to a glimpse of life that is somehow fuller and more tender.
We are not machines; we are more like that which connects rivers and thunderstorms and fish, with trees and wind and the invisible pulls of the tide.