Oliver Sacks is a double teacher for me: for his extraordinary contributions to the world of neuroscience and also as a peculiar, warm and enthusiastic teacher in the difficult art of living. His closeness and humanity make him an admirable and inspiring model, a constant and affordable invitation to be curious and live with desire, without pettiness or half measures.
In addition to being a neurologist, Oliver Sacks was a world champion in weightlifting, a passionate biker, a lover and a student of music ... However, so many passions manifested themselves almost austerely and focused on an extremely shy personality: «I am shy in ordinary social contexts. I am not able to "chat" easily; I have difficulty recognizing people (this has always happened to me, although it has worsened since my eyesight has deteriorated). I have little knowledge and little interest in current affairs, be they political, social or sexual. Now, moreover, I hear badly, a polite term to say that I am increasingly deaf. Considering all this, I tend to go to a corner, to seem invisible, to wait for me to be overlooked (...). But if by chance I meet someone, at a party or wherever, who shares some of my (usually scientific) interests - volcanoes, jellyfish, gravitational waves ... - then I immediately jump into a lively conversation ».
Perhaps this extreme introversion has been key in making him one of the great observers and guides of the human psyche. Although on occasion, his enthusiasm was stronger than his shyness: «I hardly ever speak to people on the street. But a few years ago there was a lunar eclipse and I went out to see it with my little telescope. Everyone else on that busy sidewalk seemed oblivious to the extraordinary heavenly event that was happening above their heads, so I stopped people saying, “Look! Look what happens to the moon! ”, And I put my telescope in his hands. People were surprised to be approached this way, but, intrigued by my innocent enthusiasm, they looked through the telescope, said "wooow" and returned it to me. "Wow, thanks for letting me see that!" or "Thank you, thank you for showing it to me!"
In a sense, says journalist María Popova, “Dr. Sacks has spent half a century putting a telescope in our hands and inviting us, with the same innocent and contagious enthusiasm, to glimpse an even more remote and mysterious object - the landscape of the human mind - until we exclaimed "wooow ...". And although he presents himself as a comically awkward genius, make no mistake: this man has enormous charisma and nobility, as revealed by both the details of his daily life and his delightful written prose."