The question has haunted me for years.

As a 3rd year medical student, on our first posting in the clinical medicine unit, our professor asked us a question.

“Why did you decide to become a doctor?”

The ensuing interrogation was penetrating and funny. It might go like this with one student.

“Sir, because my father is a doctor too.”

“So, then, if your father had been a carpenter, would you have become one?”

“No, sir, I didn’t mean it that way.”

“So, why did you decide to become a doctor?”

“Well, I want to help people.”

“You can help them by being a nurse, a policeman, a tailor - even a carpenter! Why choose to be a doctor?”

“I can make a lot of money!”

“Yes, and you can do that more easily in other fields. Why be a doctor?”

… and on and on.

The answers were interesting. But the important lesson that experience taught me was about critical thinking.

About asking the question, “Why?”

And about not stopping until you get at the ‘real’ answer.

- - - -

1989 was the year I grew up.

It was when I did my medical internship.

That was when theoretical concepts, technical knowledge and years of physical and mental preparation were brought face to face with raw human suffering.

It was a shock… like being thrown into freezing waters of a rough sea - without a life-jacket.

Until then, as medical students, we had been shielded and protected from the harshness and emotional turmoil of clinical practice.

As an intern on the wards, that safety net was suddenly jerked away, the training wheels yanked off, the protective guard around us withdrawn… and all of a sudden, we were face to face with the reality of being a doctor.

Like steel is tempered by fire, we young medical practitioners were conditioned by the ravages and suffering, courage and fortitude, pain and hope displayed by a healing humanity.

We had to cope as best as our nature, character and training allowed.

In the end, we came out as doctors.

- - - -

One of the toughest things to learn to face - and accept - was Death.

It is never easy when a patient in one’s care dies. It wasn’t then. It isn’t now.

And every time it happened, the questions would repeat themselves over and over, into the wee, dark hours of many sleepless nights.

Why him?

Why now?

Why this way?

Why not me?

And these “Why”s led inevitably to that tormenting question - “Who am I?”

Every physician in training goes through this process. The lucky ones find the answers. The rest suffer through agony for years as they seek them.

In those days, I studied history and psychology, religion and philosophy, trying to find a hint that would lead to the answer. The diverse interests developed at that time have continued over the years. And in time, bits became clearer.

Today, as I read Eckhart Tolle’s book, “A New Earth”, I feel many more parts of the complex equation coming into sharper focus.

It’s a fascinating, yet slow, read - because what the author says has me pausing every few pages to THINK. Not many books have that impact. This is a good one.

Taken together, Victor Frankl’s masterpiece, “Man’s Search For Meaning”, and Eckhart Tolle’s “A New Earth” will probably be the keys that unlock the mystery of that deep question… “Who Am I?”