Craned Neck Syndrome

When I was a post-doc at Cornell, just starting to work in the field of computer-aided drug design with some of the brightest minds in solid state physics, my mentor in computers and life, Marty, would often find me hunched over the keyboard, working though the numbers and crying. Crying, you ask, why would you be crying?

Yes, crying, because I wasn't up to speed with the boys in physics. I couldn't weld the numbers like they could. They had the magic. My project was basically pro-bono. And I suspect the boys kept me around, like some people take in a persistent stray dog that won't leave their back porch.

It all started when I sat in on a course in pseudopotential theory with a girl friend who needed physics credits to graduate. Sure, I'll help. Why not, I loved the watered down quantum mechanics I had taken as both an undergrad and graduate student. I had the time in my schedule to take the course, and access to a VAX we could use to run the software for the one exam. What I didn't count on was the full blown mental love affair I would be completely and totally consumed by.

The modelling of electronic interactions, specifically those involved in hydrogen bonding was my heroin. To say, I couldn't get enough of it, is an understatement. I read and reread books on local density approximation. I forced calculus and differential equations down my throat. I set up computer jobs to run, whenever a computer was available, 24 hours a day. When I was in the groove, I worked 20 hours a day, in a windowless room, without a worry or a care for the outside world. I paid my own way to go to conferences and courses on the latest ways to model electronic interactions. I would do anything to learn anything about my love. And I was crying.

Marty was adamant. "You suffer from Craned Neck Syndrome."

I asked her, "Is it fatal?"

She replied, "It can be."

I rolled my head on my shoulders. My neck was a bit stiff, but my head was still attached. "What's the symptoms?"

"You are so focused on where those boys are. Those boys, who have been eating, breathing, living, solid state physics for years, that you can't see how far you've come in these few short months. You're on a learning ladder. You're up 7,000 rungs above the earth, but that doesn't matter, because all you see are the 16,000 rungs between you and the boys. Enjoy where you are. Enjoy the learning."

Words to live by.

I don't do local density approximation anymore. But writing about it here, has stirred up so many emotions and memories. I could cry all over again. I'll never forget what it was like to be invited to give a seminar on my work to some solid state physicists. It was in Belgium, where I got to speak in both French and English. I was in heaven... French and physics.

But the point of this essay is, when you don't think you or your life is getting anywhere, stop and look at where you are. Look all around you. Look at your accomplishments. Look where you've come from. We are always growing, changing, learning. Enjoy the process. Appreciate every step of the way.

Thanks, Marty.