Inspired by the burr holes
of a combined transpetrosal approach
with retrosigmoid extension
一羽一念
One Crane One Mind
Training not only the hands, but the spirit — the Path I walk, the Way I live.
For every patient I will serve, a prayer in every fold.
No.00001–00060
4 cm square paper
No.00061–00123
2 cm square paper
No.00124–
1 cm square paper
Styrofoam hemisphere (with a 3 cm depression simulating the surgical field)
Operating microscope and Styrofoam hemisphere
“What I love is the Way, not mere technique.”
— Zhuangzi, “Yang Sheng Zhu,” Butcher Ding
Butcher Ding was a cook whose art of carving had reached a state where his blade slipped effortlessly through the spaces between sinews and bones, never wearing out and lasting for decades.
Once, he demonstrated the carving of an ox before King Wen Hui. The elegance of his movements left the king astonished:
“Ah! Can skill truly reach such perfection?”
But Ding replied simply:
“What I love is the Way, not mere technique.”
Folding a crane from a single square centimeter of paper will never, on its own, make me a neurosurgeon. Yet that has never been the point. What matters is that the folding itself is my Way.
Choosing this practice, committing to one crane each day, refusing to break the chain, even carving a hollow into a styrofoam sphere to mimic a skull—these are not small gestures. They are the Path I walk, the Way I live, the very shape of who I am.
“Learning is the cultivation of the Way; it is not the pursuit of skill alone.”
— Hashimoto Sanai, Draft Regulations for the Domain School Meidōkan
Robots and AI advance without pause. The day will come, soon, when much of a physician’s work will be done by machines.
And so, in this age of transition, we must ask: how do we hold on to who we are? I cannot help but think of the samurai of Edo—who, even in times of peace, never ceased searching for their Way.
There is a phrase: Noblesse Oblige—the moral obligation that comes with noble duty.
To be a physician is to be entrusted with another’s life. It demands that we hold within ourselves a pride that bows to none—though no calling is ignoble—and a spirit unbroken.
This is not egoism, selfishness. It is egotism—a devotion so profound that it spills outward, moving others.
Every thread of who I am will be tested at the moment a patient places their life in my hands. That is why I keep walking this Way: because it is what eases their fear, what makes saving possible.
And so, for every patient I will one day meet, I fold with prayer in every crease—permitting no self-deception—today, tomorrow, without end.
