For a long time, as a high school dropout I considered my education to be incomplete, riddled with holes, gaps to be filled by lessons I hadn’t shown up to receive. One crucial bit of wisdom that I did arrive at eventually was this: One’s education is never complete. A missed opportunity doesn’t preclude the possibility of new opportunities, or even better ones.
I think I benefited from being equal parts ambitious and curious. And of the two, curiosity has served me best. It’s all very well to be absolutely certain, as I was when I dropped out of high school, about what you want to achieve or where you want to be in life. That’s ambition. That’s great. But nobody gets a straight shot to the top. Life is not linear. There will be detours along the way. For the curious, new clues will await at every turn and may keep pointing toward the chosen destination. Or maybe you’ll stumble upon information that will inspire you to change course altogether, delivering you to a future you never could have imagined.
I credit my curiosity, in fact, with rescuing me from the edge of an abyss. Initially, my anxiety and confusion over my diagnosis of early onset Parkinson’s disease had shut me down, and I felt overwhelmed by the desire to withdraw, to retreat from my situation. Once I accepted reality—It is what it is—my curiosity took over. I started to ask very simple questions. What is Parkinson’s, exactly? How is it affecting me? How is it affecting others? And the scope of my inquiry widened: Does this change how I feel about myself? Does it change how others feel about me? Does that really matter? Is what anyone else thinks of me really any of my business? Who are these Parkinson’s patients that make up this community I find myself a part of, and what can I learn from them? Can we do something to help ourselves? Can I personally do something?
You see where this detour led. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it saved my ass. When you move out of your comfort zone and interact with people you might not have otherwise, the results can be compelling. I’m thinking about the scientists I’ve met during my work with the Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson’s Research. I remember being briefed once by an esteemed clinical researcher on the potential use of trophic factors in neurological repair. After admitting that I didn’t understand a word of what he just said, I told him, “If I’m in a room full of actors, odds are I’ve got a pretty good shot of being one of the smartest people in the room. But if I’m in a room full of neuroscientists, I think it’s best if I just nod and take notes.” Truth is, in a span of maybe a couple of years, I had gone from talking to my agent on a cellular phone to discussing brain chemistry with cellular biologists.
Like I said, I’m not much for advice. But I’ll leave you with a quick review. Being in control of your own destiny is a myth—and wouldn’t be half as much fun anyway. Pay attention to what’s happening around you. Read the book before you see the movie. Remember, though you, alone, are responsible for your own happiness, it’s still okay to feel responsible for someone else’s.
Live to learn.
—Michael J. Fox
New York City
ALSO BY MICHAEL J. FOX
Lucky Man
Always Looking Up
Copyright
A FUNNY THING HAPPENED ON THE WAY TO THE FUTURE. Copyright © 2010 Michael J. Fox. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Hyperion e-books.
Adobe Digital Edition February 2010 ISBN: 978-1-4013-9508-7
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