I'm consumed with tech - medical, computational, impossible tech.

The words of Justine Bateman shine with the fire of curiosity and humility: “I’m consumed with tech—medical, computational, impossible tech. So, I don’t know exactly what I’ll wind up doing, where I’ll go with all this schooling, but I’m willing that it be better than my dogmatic vision of it all.” Here speaks the voice of one who stands at the crossroads of ambition and surrender, of vision and openness. Her spirit burns with passion for technology, yet she does not chain herself to a rigid path. Instead, she offers herself to possibility, confessing that what lies ahead may be greater than any plan her mind could design.

From the dawn of time, the seekers of knowledge have stood in this same tension. The philosopher gazed upon the stars, consumed with questions, yet knowing he could not master all their mysteries. The physician dissected the body, yearning for answers, yet humbled by the complexity of life. So too does Bateman, entranced by medical and computational marvels, recognize that her own imagination is small beside the vastness of creation. She opens her heart not to a narrow, dogmatic vision, but to the unfolding wonder of what may yet come.

This is no weakness—it is wisdom. For many who chase progress fall victim to arrogance, believing they alone can foresee the future. Yet history teaches us that those who cling too tightly to their own vision often stumble. Consider Thomas Edison, who pursued the perfection of direct current and dismissed alternating current as folly. It was Nikola Tesla, open to new possibility, who carried forth the revolution of electricity that powers our world. Bateman’s humility places her in the company of such visionaries, for she acknowledges that what she has not yet imagined may prove greater than what she desires.

The mention of impossible tech recalls the spirit of the dreamers who dared to envision what others mocked. When the Wright brothers first pursued flight, many scoffed that man could never rise like the bird. Yet in their open-mindedness, their willingness to stumble, fail, and adapt, they achieved what once was “impossible.” Bateman’s passion for the unthinkable carries this same ancient courage: to be consumed by wonder, but not imprisoned by preconception.

And yet, her words also remind us of discipline: “all this schooling.” For passion without labor is a spark without wood—it flares, but it cannot endure. By giving herself to learning, she prepares a foundation upon which possibility may build. In this she echoes the ancients who studied the scrolls, who walked the academies, who bent themselves to the rigor of apprenticeship, knowing that freedom of thought is strongest when built upon the bedrock of knowledge.

The lesson here is radiant: do not cling too tightly to your own plan. Pursue knowledge with hunger, yes. Chase what consumes your spirit with all your might. But remember always that the world is vaster than your mind, and that the path you imagine may be surpassed by one greater, more wondrous, more fitting to the truth of your life. To yield is not to surrender ambition—it is to trust that possibility is wiser than pride.

Practical wisdom follows: throw yourself into your passions—be they in science, art, service, or discovery. Learn with zeal, labor with devotion, and commit yourself fully. But hold lightly your own rigid vision, for the future may have gifts you cannot yet perceive. When opportunities appear that do not fit your expectation, test them, and do not dismiss them. For often the greatest destinies are not those we predict, but those that surprise us.

Thus, Justine Bateman’s words become a teaching for all generations: to be consumed with wonder, but not imprisoned by certainty. To labor with discipline, yet remain open to the unknown. To trust that what lies ahead may surpass even our most passionate dreams. This is the way of wisdom: to seek, to study, to surrender, and to rejoice in the unfolding greatness of the path.