The Weight of Knowledge

“Ignorance is bliss”

Gentle droplets of rain paraded upon the tempered glass, tracing the outline of a hand they will never touch. Somber eyes drifted across the scattered specs of light shimmering out in the darkness of the city spanning below the hospital window. Sarah sighed, her gaze returning to the white washed panels above. She closed her eyes, letting the gentle beep of the monitor beside her keep her company. She dreamed of rolling hills of green, her body stretched out under a shimmering summer sun. Her lips curled upward imagining the warm embrace of the sun caressing her skin. Suddenly, her bright dream was disrupted by the sharp sting of needle piercing her skin.

The doctor looked down at her, smiling solemnly. In one hand he held her arm, in the other he held an empty vial, slowly filling with her blood. “It’s pretty isn’t it?

Sarah frowned. She looked back outside, the rain slowing to a drizzle. “Will I get to touch it?”

The doctor removed the needle from Sarah’s arm, capping the vial of blood. Standing he responded, “Probably not.” Fluffing his coat he looked down at Sarah’s decrepit state. The poor woman was bedridden, unable to do anything other than speak and occasionally move her arms. The doctor thought it was a horrible life to live. “Can you explain to me what you meant the other day when you said that you chose this?”

Sarah sighed. “I didn’t understand at the time. I saw the endless possibilities and wasted potential of a listless light. He was so,” Her eyes shimmered at the memory. “Bright.” The doctor leaned in, his interest piqued at the possibility of hearing about Sarah’s past. “I thought I knew it all, but in the end the only thing I knew was that I knew nothing.”

The doctor tapped his foot, rubbing the lid of the vial of blood. “Who was he?”

Sarah laughed. “The one I learned it all from.” She reached out and clutched the doctor’s hand. “Don’t worry about it too much. It’s complicated.”

The doctor pursed his lips. “Alright.” The doctor lingered for a moment. “I still don’t understand. And I’ll never understand unless you tell me!” He turned around in a flash of anger, his hands clenched by his side. “You’re in pain right? You’re suffering right? I’ve suffered! I’ve been in pain! You know that better than anyone. I understand your pain, I really do-”

“No. You don’t. No one does.” She laughed at herself. “No one understands.” She closed her eyes, pressing the tips of her fingers against her shaded pupils. “I hate knowing. I wish I was a child again. Clueless and carefree.” Suddenly her bones began to rattle, shaking violently. She shouted out in pain, her body attempting to furl together. Sarah cried, tears cascading down her cheeks. “I can see it. You need to go. You’re most impactful elsewhere.” Eventually she drifted off, her sense of pain growing dull.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sarah dreamed. She imagined she was sitting atop a flowery knoll, her two children circling her, giggling profusely. Beside her stood her husband, a towering pillar of love and support. She smiled watching them. Standing to rise she kissed her husband on the cheek. Smiling, he embraced her. After a moment, the two broke apart. Still smiling, Sarah looked at her children. Bending down, she went to pick one of them up. But as she wrapped him in her arms, she suddenly felt heavy. So heavy in fact that she felt like she needed to sit. As she sat with her child, her body grew heavier and heavier, the very bones inside of her weighing her down. Her other child crawled towards her, reaching out. Sarah’s lip quivered. She looked at her children as they reached out to her. She clenched her fists, frustrated at the futility of her own body. She shook her head and shouted frustrated that she can’t even hold her children in her dreams.

When she opened her eyes another scene sat before her. Sprawling evergreens speckled the horizon and domineering mountains loomed in the distance. Sarah, along with a crowd of faces she could only remember were floating in a lake. ‘The water is so clear.’ She thought. The people were so familiar, but untouchable. Her family floated beside her, the largest smiles spread across their faces. Everyone seemed so full of joy. Sarah joined the crowd. She floated beside long lost friends and caught them up on a life she had never lived. She wrapped her arms around her parents' necks a little tighter than she should have. She blissfully enjoyed the sparkling water and the company of missing companions. But as she shifted from person to person, she slowly began to sink. Her body steadily being overtaken by the stillness of the water. Soon she was fully submerged, sinking towards the darkness below. As she sank, she looked up. Flailing, she flung her body upwards in an attempt to resurface and join her family. But the more she fought, the faster she sank. As the darkness surrounded her she reached her hand up, wishing someone would reach out and help her.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sarah’s eyes slowly flitted open. Glancing over towards the window she sighed. A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. Several men and women began to pour into her room. They were all downcast, and their eyes were pointed towards the ground. Sarah began to scan each of their eyes. None of them looked in her direction. They all silently stared towards the ground. Entering the room last was the doctor and a small girl walking with a cane. The girl’s hair was matted, and her frame was frail. She had a noticeable limp, and a sunken and pale face. The girl looked up at Sarah and gave her a broken smile. Sarah spoke first. “No.”

“At least hear them out.” The doctor pleaded, his hand resting gently on the young girl's shoulder. Sarah gritted her teeth. Always someone else. Always for someone else. What about her? Shouldn’t someone do something for her? When will it be her turn? She was tired of being used this way. Why couldn’t he understand? Why couldn’t they understand? How hard was it to just trust her? Furthermore, she questioned why she had to play God. The blessing of knowledge she had been given was like a curse. She had been given the ability to see the best possible futures. When she first saw this power, she was mesmerized by the thought of being able to help everyone. But after experiencing it first hand, she wouldn’t wish the curse on anyone. Being able to see the future might seem hopeful, but the future is paved with death and everyone always wants a happy outcome.

“You don’t understand.”

The doctor pursed his lips, his face growing red with frustration. “She will die if she doesn’t get help. She’s incredibly sick! Her way of life has been severely impaired. She has a loving family who cares so deeply for her. She has so much to offer and give this world. She’s just a young girl! You’re going to take that from her? She has a whole future ahead of her!”

“No she doesn’t.” Sarah clenched her fists. She had been burdened with the gift of unending knowledge. The answers to guide every man’s steps. And it all resided within her bones. And it was heavy. So heavy in fact it physically impaired her and her ability to live a normal life. She wished she could go back and change her fate! She glanced back at the girl and scowled. How could she blame someone else for not knowing what they haven't experienced? Yet each time someone reaches out to her for help she can’t help but feel bitterness and jealousy. What a cruel irony it is to see everyone’s future but your own. But even then, how could they understand her position? They simply didn’t know.

Sarah’s eyes shifted from the girl to her father, or the man she assumed to be her father. Their faces looked very similar. She shook her head. “No. You don’t understand what you are asking me to do.”

At this the doctor became enraged and threw his clipboard on the ground. “No! I don’t! No one understands what we are asking you to do! No one knows but you! And what do you do? Sit and sulk all day in this bed! You refuse to share what you know with anyone else! Why? Why won’t you help them?” The doctor broke down, collapsing to the floor. His thoughts and emotions began to overwhelm him. Anger and resentment over all the confusion and lack of knowledge boiled up inside of him, reawakening old memories. Suddenly, tears began to flow from his eyes. He saw his young son, struggling to catch a breath. He saw his ex wife shouting at him as she beat on his chest. He heard the whirring of the ambulance as it pulled into his driveway. “You told me to work. You told me I shouldn’t have been home. And I trusted you. I listened to you. And I lost them.” His voice was hollow, and his body lay motionless atop itself. “I lost them.”

Suddenly the young girl's father walked over to the doctor and he placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hey man. We don’t know what’s in her head. Just like she doesn’t know what's in ours. And you never know, maybe we shouldn’t know. Sometimes ignorance is bliss, even if we don’t like the wall we are looking at. At least we have the ability to remember the past.” He reached down and lifted the doctor up, wrapping his arm around his shoulder to hold him up. The girl’s father raised his head and looked at Sarah. “You’re right. We don’t understand. But we want to. If you give us an answer, no matter what it is, we will accept it.” The man’s eyes were glossed in sorrow, and tears bit at the corners of his eyes.

Sarah bit her lip as emotion bubbled up inside of her. She closed her eyes before she examined the man and his daughter. As she did her bones began to quake. Answers and scenario’s began filling her mind. She saw the little girl grow into a young woman, and then into an adult. She saw her children and their children. She watched the dad’s joyous soul smile at his daughter as she got married. She watched as the man spun his grandchildren in circles. But then she saw the counterpart. She saw the father standing over his daughter’s grave with a bouquet of flowers. She saw him standing over his desk working tirelessly into the night. She saw him receiving a reward for creating a cure for a disease. She saw the countless lives spring forth from the man’s cure. Sarah bit her lip. If she were to save this one girls life, she would be killing thousands of others. Was one girls happiness worth that? Her heart seemed to press in on itself, the sorrow growing even heavier within her. Tearfully, Sarah spoke. “Little girl. Lift your head.” The girl did just that, and met Sarah’s eyes. As she looked at the poor child, she whispered. “I cannot save you.” As the words left her mouth, her heart shattered.

The family left somberly, all of them silent as they walked out. The doctor sat against the wall shaking his head. “I really wish you would give me a glimpse into what you’re thinking about. Sometimes I wish I could crawl into your brain and see it for myself.” The doctor looked at his hands, tears staining the tops of them. “If I was you I would have saved the girl.”

Sarah opened her eyes, unimpressed by the man’s response. “If she lived, thousands of others would have died. Would you be ok with that? Could you live with that choice?”

The doctor stood and walked over to the window. He looked out at the twinkling lights of the city below. “I think the lives that are here are more important than the ones that aren't. And if you saved her you could save others like her.”

Sarah thought about his statement. “It does weigh on me, you know.” She tilted her tear streaked face towards him looking him in the eyes. “My choices.”

The doctor sighed as he turned to leave. “Everyone's choices weigh on them, Sarah. It’s just what choices can we live with.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She had always taken for granted the reality of the unknown and what a silent blessing it is. The joy in getting to experience what you don’t understand is unparalleled, but what happens when you can no longer experience anything new? What happens when you already know the answer? When each and every path no longer shimmers with a light of the unknown, but rather is illuminated by the sorrow of the future? Sarah gained the ability to see all different futures. She saw each and every outcome and had the ability to push it in the direction she chose. But as she realized, with each decision came a catastrophe, and with each catastrophe another decision. If she saves one person, she inadvertently kills thousands of others. If she shows one person the way, thousands of others become lost.

She questioned the reason for her existence and the purpose of her power. Was she just a catalogue of heartache and pain? Of understanding and knowledge? Or was there a purpose in being able to see the sorrow? Was there a point to all the pain? Although Sarah knew all of the outcomes and answers, she was not immune to the emotional gravity and weight that comes with them. The ability to see fate but not change it is wickedly cruel. The knowledge she gained came with a price. With each answer that resided within her, her pain multiplied. Both physically and mentally. Burdened by the responsibility to know and to be the keeper of that knowledge was heavy. So heavy that it literally weighed her down, restricting her movements to that of a single hospital bed. Where all she can do is close her eyes and speak.

She questioned her life. If she was really needed or if her existence was necessary. In the moments of pain she liked to believe it was. It helped fill her with hope and purpose. But in the days full of sorrow and futility she wanted nothing more than to die. But then it crossed her mind, what if she could have both? What if she could finally have rest from all the sorrow and pain as well as pass on the knowledge she has to future generations? In her heart it was what she desired, but to burden someone else with what she had experienced was wholly selfish. She thought about how she gained her power, and how she first thought about its whimsical nature.

It seemed so beautiful back then. Everything sparkled with glit and shimmer. It wasn’t until sorrow entered her world that she sought answers. She was so content just being curious. But in a moment of desperation she made a choice that radically changed her future, burdening her with understanding, and weighing her down with knowledge. The way she saw everyone drastically changed, and her desire to help others became a twisted desire to relieve her heart from its distresses. She constantly wrestled with the choice of one life over another, or ones happiness for another. Sometimes she wanted to be selfish, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it, knowing the consequences.

But then it hit her. She didn’t have to be the one to make the decisions. She didn’t have to be the one to make a choice. She wasn’t a god, or some all powerful being, she was just Sarah. And that’s all she wanted to be. So why couldn’t she just be that? For the first time since acquiring her knowledge, Sarah’s heart smiled at the thought of finally finding relief and comfort. Looking out the window she thought of the doctor, and the suffering he has endured. “He’s perfect.” She said.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Doctor. I’ll tell you about my knowledge.”

The doctor's face lit up. “Are you serious?” Sarah slowly smiled. The doctor leaned forward tentatively listening to her answer.

“Doctor. Did you know that I used to love hiking? I loved the way the mountains would twist and twirl around each other ever expanding together to create the most beautiful of trails. In autumn the leaves would shift between red and orange, and sometimes,” She smiled at him winking, “You would get lucky and see some blowing past you in the breeze.” She winked at him. “Can I ask you a question, doctor?”

“Absolutely anything.” The doctor sat on a stool, his legs slightly dangling above the floor. His hands were tucked into his white coat and his hair was neatly slicked back.

“Lets say you see a girl walking down the street and her shoes are untied. Do you stop her and tell her that her shoes are untied, or do you ignore it and let whatever the outcome is be?

The doctor chuckled. “Well I’d probably ignore it. It’s just some lose shoelaces. I’m sure she would notice them.”

“Fair answer. What about if she was being followed by a man with a weapon?”

“Well of course. That’s totally different. I think I would immediately shout.”

“Ok. Last question. What if when you shout, you spook a nearby driver and it causes them to crash their car killing several people? Do you still shout at the woman being followed by a man with a weapon, or do you stay silent and let whatever happens happen?”

The doctor sat back, folding his arms across his chest. “Well that changes things.” He laughed. “That makes it a bit harder. I’m not sure. How many people would die in the car crash?”

“More than one.”

The doctor rubbed his chin. “Well if I had to pick one, I think I would choose not to shout. If I knew that shouting would end up hurting more people.”

“Even if you knew that by not shouting the woman being followed with a knife would end up hurt?”

“I honestly don’t know. That’s a hard question. But I think so. I’m going to stick with what I said.”

Sarah smiled a sad smile. Her lips slowly filling up her face. “Well doctor. I think that answer is just fine.” She reached out and grabbed his hand. “Would you like to know what I know?” The doctor shook his head vigorously. Sarah smiled, whispering to herself, “Sometimes it’s better to be left in the dark.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The doctor’s eyes slowly flitted open. He was surrounded by the familiar whitewash walls of the hospital. He was laid out atop a medical bed. Looking up at the emptiness of the ceiling he began to cry. Emotions began to bubble up from a spring of newfound knowledge. Understanding began to press upon his skin like an iron. And knowledge began to weigh down his bones. Looking out the window he saw a cascade of violent rain slamming against the glass. Reaching out he touched a streak of water, letting it follow the curve of his arm. “I never knew.”