work in progress

Time is often regarded as an unchangeable “fact” of life, something by which individuals allow themselves to be consumed. Most people let time influence every aspect of their lives, from scheduling daily tasks to measuring major life milestones. Yet, a key issue emerges: time is relative. The notion of “time” is largely man-made, and its measurement often fails to align with natural cycles. This isn’t to say that time itself doesn't exist, because as I write this, moments are passing by. One cannot deny that time exists in its entirety, since aging is a fact of the passing of years. Scientifically, time is measurable; physics describes it as a dimension intertwined with space. Even Albert Einstein’s theory of relativity demonstrates that time can move differently depending on speed and gravity, suggesting that time is not as fixed as once imagined, even from a scientific viewpoint. However, we often define time not by the scientific definition but by human perception; time is relative because its conceptualization varies across societies. For example, lunar and solar calendars define a year differently.

To understand why time is relative, we must consider its purpose. Why did people create time if they could survive without strict schedules? History shows that time began being tracked to maximize survival: people needed to monitor days, nights, and seasons to manage agriculture and align traditions with recurring events. As societies advanced, time began to influence not just the harvest, but also personal growth. This issue is not new—age and growth have always affected when people marry, have children, or pass away. The difference between cultures and eras lies in the timing of these milestones. What does this imply? It suggests that time is not an external ruler, but is deeply intertwined with human experience. People impose time on themselves to create meaning and structure in life. It allows individuals to feel accomplished by reaching certain milestones “on time.” Achieving a milestone earlier than others can even create a sense of being “profound.” The fact that cultures differ in their views on life events demonstrates that time does not pass equally for all; it is relative.

(note : break down the logistics of time being used moreso now as a human evaluator / sort of test)

This idea is easy to grasp and widely accepted. The diversity of cultural experiences with time is so fundamental that few people question it—we’ve all read about the shift away from marrying off children before they are old enough to drive. While the timing of life’s moments may change, the underlying purpose remains the same. In part, this drive to schedule life’s events paves the way for fueling capitalism. The phrase “time is money” highlights an unfortunate reality: time takes on different meanings for different individuals. Someone born wealthy may have to work less to maintain their status, while someone born into poverty must work more just to survive. Objectively, everyone has the same number of hours in a day, but those in poverty must spend much of them working. The difference in “disposable” time across income groups is significant. Furthermore, the value of time is eroding in capitalist societies, where workplaces increasingly focus on hours spent rather than tasks completed—often compromising work quality just to appear “busy.” In employment, time is relative to the amount of money one wants to earn or the hours required by salary guidelines. For many, time becomes a function of how much must be earned to survive (not to mention the vast gap between a living wage and a minimum wage). Time becomes a burden, as workers constantly check the clock and wait for the workday to end. To put it succinctly, Karl Marx wrote: “Time is everything, man is nothing; he is no more than the carcass of time.” Despite humanity “creating” time as we understand it, it has become a kind of prison. People are confined by what they “should” accomplish at each milestone, and by the workplace standard of 8-hour days, 5 days a week. It is a self-imposed cycle: people follow the rules and standards of time, often forgetting that these standards only persist if we choose to uphold them. Even in a non-capitalist society, where workers might be valued for performance instead of hours, time would still define milestones.

On a similar standard, time becomes a hurdle for the average person to grow. Due to the unfortunate reality of how individuals are expected to complete tasks, at some point, it begins to feel “too late” to start or even finish something. When considering schooling, if one does not complete their schooling within what is seen as an “acceptable” timeline, it becomes difficult to accomplish due to societal perceptions, or the accomplishment's worth diminishes. Getting a high school diploma / GED becomes seen as “embarrassing” if it’s not accomplished on the standard timeline (or in the standard way), and taking more than a gap year between high school and college leads to the perception that one is behind and/or unsuccessful. There is an almost universal fear of starting “too late”, despite the fact that time itself is infinite and thus there shouldn’t be a “too late”.

The time at which an individual does/starts a task is perceived to directly correlate to their success – people are viewed as “unsuccessful” if they fail to adhere to the standard of a degree by the time they are ~24, and women begin being viewed negatively if they are not married with children by their 30’s.

(note : the worth of time needs to be addressed somewhere in the above paragraph, also)

There is an important distinction between biological and social milestones. It’s not that these milestones aren’t important or necessary, but milestones beyond biological development are driven by flexible human standards. Scientifically, a child should speak, walk, and develop certain skills at specific ages, but beyond these developmental milestones, what one “should” do is shaped by societal desires. The expectation that a woman should be married or have children before thirty, for example, lacks scientific justification—yet it is explained by social ideas of time.

Arguably, this suggests that it’s not necessarily time that’s relative but the societal standards for what should be accomplished at any given moment. However, it is crucial to understand that societal standards come from a culture's perception of time. There are very few things that are standard across the board in considering the passage of time — we see in some Asian countries that even birthdays are not determined by the moment you are brought into the world, but by the year that has passed. The traditions held within communities are directly associated with how they perceive time; if there were a universal standard of time, cultural differences would certainly diminish.

This relativity also appears in our experience of life. Philosopher Heidegger argued that the awareness of mortality shapes existence. This awareness creates purpose and urgency. Individuals perceive their personal time as finite, while time itself appears boundless. This distinction deepens our understanding of the relativity of experience. Ultimately, time matters less as a scientific absolute and more as a human construct. It shapes our sense of meaning and mortality. No one is immortal, by any accepted definition. Death awaits us all, a prospect that can be unsettling. Nevertheless, people often regard time as infinite. While our lifespans end, most assume that existence endures. The core contradiction is this: “My time is finite, yet time is infinite.” It provides a sense of comfort, similar to that found in religious beliefs. Death is inevitable, yet under the assumption that time itself is never-ending, it’s effortless to find comfort in the prospect of continuation. Across hundreds of different religious bases, there appears a common belief that death isn’t finite, that there is a chance of more — an afterlife in utopia, reincarnation, or even a version of purgatory — there is some genre of an explanation to quell the despair that comes with the foretelling of one's own fate.

Here, the eternal recurrence, a concept introduced by Nietzsche, takes hold.

(note : expand here )

Diving deeper into the philosophical aspect of time, it becomes clear that comprehension shifts, becoming increasingly difficult to grasp. St. Augustine famously said, “What then is time? If no one asks me, I know; if I wish to explain it, I do not know.” Beyond the scientific implications of how time passes, we do not truly know how time is defined or what its objective purpose is. When we think of time within our own minds, it’s simple to follow the meaning that time is simply just time — it’s the passage of a moment from one instant to the next — yet when we are asked beyond the logistics of time, what it is that man falters.

Philosopher Bergson further explored this idea by distinguishing between “clock time” and “lived time”.

(note : does man control time, or does time control man? By man's creation, one would assume man would be in control, but yk..)

I was once consumed by the dream of being hit by a truck: turning a corner, being flung to the side, spinning over and over. I wanted to feel my life flash before my eyes, survive it, and return to find everything collapsing around me. I craved the rawness of vulnerability—not for myself, but for my mother. The dream seeped into my bones, a desperate wish to feel as she had felt.
I’ve lacked stability for as long as I could speak, moving too often to count. I’ve grown used to not knowing where we’d be or who we’d be with at month’s end. Since seventh grade, we’ve been considered legally homeless within every school I’ve attended; a mark on my record separating me from every other student within those walls. I’ve lacked the very essentials to being a typical teenager – a house, a place to belong.

My only constant has been my mother—my rock, the person I couldn't imagine losing. Growing up, she felt invincible; I never feared we’d be separated. Through every home and every uncertainty, she stayed by my side, supporting me.
Starting high school seemed like one of the scariest moments in my life at the time: an entirely new town, school, and people. The first day of freshman year felt like what I imagined the first level of hell to be – everyone seemed to watch my every move, study my traits. It felt like the end of the world. The second day arrived; the world continued to spin. As the week moved on, life didn’t stop oscillating. I made myself a home. I worked on becoming the person I wanted to be. By joining Speech and Debate, I found myself surrounded by a group that became my family.

As I established a place for myself, my mother began training for her new job as a bus driver for the district. For once, it felt like everything would fall together for us. My mother would have a job, we’d finally have an income, and we could afford our own house— it was exciting. After many years of uncertainty, everything was now in place. It felt as if nothing bad could happen. Finally, we were on a straight shot to the life we’d always imagined—the one she always promised me when times were rough.
Unfortunately, when things fall, they crash. As October spins around the corner at an alarming pace, my phone rings mid-practice; my aunt's ID flashes on the screen. My mother is in the hospital. She didn’t have her phone, didn’t know my number, and wasn’t sure when she’d be home. Earlier that day, they’d turned a corner and been pummelled by a semi-truck; the bus had flipped and was totaled. The line goes dead. My mother—my rock—was suddenly fragile, her invincibility ripped away. Reality pressed down on me: nothing would remain the same. My support was slipping away.

Throughout my entire life, my mother had been my glue; she’d held me together through everything. I couldn’t let my fear of losing her overtake me because she wasn’t gone. It was simply time for the roles to switch; it was my turn to be the glue, keeping her together; it was my turn to be her support. I did everything in my power to help her between school, work, and activities. I increased everything I was doing to ensure she wasn’t overexerting herself, and when the time came that she was released from work due to her injuries, I comforted her. I understood that we were back at square one, once again without an income, without plans for a house of our own. However, it wasn’t the same; I had already had the experience in my heart, and I knew what to do and what to expect. All we had to do was adapt and wait for the lawsuit settlement to be finalized. We just had to keep moving – just as we always had. The only difference was that it was my turn to be her pillar.

Three years later, as my senior year drew near and the lawsuit remained unsettled, my eyes finally opened. The crash was life-changing—of course. It was not life-ending. Our world continued to oscillate, yet we pressed onward; only our pace had changed. Not every burden should be shouldered. Though I cannot remove the weight of pain from my mother's back, I can lessen it. When I try to mitigate the impact fully, I only shift the issues onto myself. Shouldering her burden isn't possible, but I can help by simply standing at her side, connecting our hands as we lift the burden together. I don’t need her pain to understand her or to be by her side. A house isn't mandatory to make a home.

“It’s unnatural,”

I’ve heard these words countless times, often from strangers eavesdropping on conversations. The words usually spill out with other hateful remarks, whispered under their breath, as if hesitant for me to hear. The cause? A simple remark about a girl. I suppose the blame is on me; how dare I be attracted to women, as one? I’ve “made the choice” to be an odd one out, to be “unnatural.”

In the past, I truly wished it were a choice. I pushed down a part of myself to meet others’ standards and be “normal.” It was a trait that made me different, and one I used to fear. I disliked being excluded from what should have been; it felt shameful at the time.

However, I grew up. I became more understanding and discovered myself. The trait that set me apart in society, that made me feel shame, no longer had to stay hidden. I didn’t have to mold myself to suit others. I was my own person. I opened up and brought my differences forward. I used it to create myself. I found what I loved: advocating for the community's rights and connecting with others. My difference became just a fact. It became another area for connection and purpose. The difference didn’t matter anymore. It wasn’t something to be pushed down; it became fuel. It didn’t make me “unnatural.” I’m still human, and my love isn’t relevant in that.

I grew up believing faith was entirely solid — like our multiplication tables, taught and unquestioned. I was essentially born and raised within the church; attending every Sunday for years — bouncing between our home church, the Friends Church, and a separate church, one a little less kind. One who very vividly, very vocally shared their thoughts on those with “sinful attraction”.

As I grew older and began discovering myself, I started questioning my romantic attraction. I fell head over heels for a girl, and felt more shame than ever. I’d been taught to know better. So, I told a friend, laying myself out flat and raw to him, and he gave me words that changed my entire perspective.

“There is no sin greater than hate.”

God is all-loving; he has created each and every one of us within his own image. This understanding made me further question the ideology of sexual attraction being a sin so evil that it condemns one to hell unless they forfeit their love. It’s a shaking thought: how can something so pure, so simple, end in an eternal punishment? It is simply human to love — inevitable, even. Why is one love so wrong when another is beautiful?

As I began understanding myself, my perspective shifted away from what I felt I’d always known — what I’d memorized, the quotes I’d recite for bible bucks. My viewpoint tipped onto its side — I found myself disagreeing with the interpretation of the Bible being spoken. The shame began to subside. I wasn’t tainted, but human. My love was irrelevant, regardless of what the church thought.

Faith and love are intertwined; they exist within each other, beautifully so. The belief that something so innate can be “unnatural” is a perspective I fear I shall never understand; the connection between separate individuals is not the business of anybody but them — and God.

It is not the ability of anybody besides the Lord to look down and judge anybody — we are to treat all of those we encounter with the same love and softness we would our siblings. The perspective of judgment within Christianity is one I will forever lack the ability to understand. The spark point is love, always and forever. It’s the difference between experiencing Christ and experiencing religion.

Love cannot be unnatural when it was so perfectly created to be pure.

Life is insanely difficult, and — the majority of the time — there isn’t an easy solution to the issues presented. Reassurances and motivations fall on deaf ears as they’re cycled over and over again; the meaning gets lost. However, I personally find the ability to understand and power through the difficulties via music, and a lyric that has stayed with me for years now, “I know there’s a full moon every night, it’s just not always as bright,” from Carseat Headrest - Maud Gone, is everything I strive to be. Understandably, the goal to be a song lyric doesn’t seem to make any sense, but that’s simply because it’s the meaning I yearn to be and embrace.
Always being optimistic and seeing the light in difficult moments has always seemed incredibly impossible to me; I’ve never understood how others seem to do it so easily. Darkness seemed to overtake everything, removing the light completely. I wasn’t sure where the light was meant to be coming from. It took years for me to learn to push forward in rough moments, to understand that whilst the light wasn’t visible, it wasn’t gone. Everything goes through phases, similarly to the moon, and in those darker phases, the light isn’t reflected as widely.

Rough moments can be compared to the moon’s crescent phase — there’s some light visible still, but the majority is dark, hard to see, hard to embrace. Conceptually, you know that the moon is always an entire circle, but it’s easy — especially when you’ve never been taught — to assume that the pieces are disappearing, breaking off, or falling away. The knowledge alone isn’t enough to find the entire moon in the sky when it’s not alit, but waiting seems painful; there’s only one full moon a month, after all. It’s the perseverance through that month with that knowledge that is going to get you to that full moon.

The next line of Maud Gone is “but it's been so long since I saw the light, maybe I haven't been looking at the sky”. The ability to power through until you’re embraced in the light again is rough, especially alone. Looking towards others — looking at the sky — and seeking help as needed is crucial. Nothing needs to be done alone, and that’s something I strive to embrace. I want to be a comfort for others, and have a place for myself and them to find our sky that will bring us to the light once again.

Life often seems simple. The complexities of it tend to surface only as one considers the meaning or end. It’s difficult to understand the ways and means of living and the purpose. Expressing and growing to know oneself often comes with a collection of hesitance, even fear. Then, as one knows themself, that hesitation shifts into pure joy, one so expressive it cannot be capped.

The poem — “i thank you god” by e e cummings is an amazing expression of this cycle, it captures the hesitance before the first words are even spoken. The title itself conveys the uncertainty that tends to take root in faith at the beginning. The lowercase “g” in “god” implies that the speaker is not entirely within their fate yet, not entirely sure of the overwhelming presence of an all-over being. Although the title may seem to imply that the poem will be shrouded in uncertainty, the poem itself is redeeming. As the speaker begins to speak, it becomes clear that the title was simply an expression of their past — of the hesitance they once held.

The first stanza is an expression of the speaker finding their faith; the jumpstart of their rebirth within it. In this stanza, the speaker makes the shift from “god” to “God”, a small change in capitalization that speaks beyond words that they’ve finally found their faith in their God. It adds a level of respect that the title did not convey. Along with the capitalization of God, the speaker uses lowercase letters, except for the first line, “i thank YOU God for most this amazing,” which clearly shows where the speaker places their respect and what their point of view may be. The lack of capitalization of “i” throughout the entirety of the poem shows the speaker's humility; it implies that they see themselves as less than or insignificant in comparison to God. The capitalization of the entire word “YOU” emphasizes how truly thankful the speaker is for God: even beyond what anyone else may do, in the end it all circles back to God, and for that the speaker is especially thankful for “YOU God”. As the speaker moves through the first stanza, thanking God for the days, the trees, the sky, among everything else, it becomes clear that the speaker's humility is a subtle way of thanking God not just for the creation of it all, but for creating it even though man is below God, God is still providing them with the amazing beauty of the natural world. That, despite it all, God still provides it all — “everything / which is natural which is infinite which is yes” — it does not matter how, or who man is, God is still going to provide, and for that the speaker is forever thankful, so much so that they cannot fully epxress themselves, as seen in the repetition of “which is” complied with the lack of commas, it’s a continous cycle of inifinite thanks, thanks that cannot fit into words, and cannot hold room for breath — becuase they are never-ending.

It is abundantly clear that this is the speaker's redemption, their rebirth after all that was in the past. Line three is the first implication of this within the actual content of the poem, where the speaker expressed “... a blue true dream of sky...”, implying their past incomplete life. The “blue true dream” implies that only now is the speaker fully seeing the color — only now are they opening their eyes to the truth; a truth that one seemed as if it could only exist within a dream. As the speaker moves into the second stanza, their redemption becomes clearer. The parathensis around the entirety of the second stanza shows that in this moment the speaker is no longer speaking to God, but to themself. They’ve begun reflecting on how they’ve changed from who they used to be. They’ve been reborn in the love of God, “( i who have died am alive again today, / and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birth / day of life and love and wings...” they have “died”, they’ve become separate from who they used to be, and they’ve been renewed. They refer to the day as the “sun’s birthday” because it is bright and inescapable. The speaker's world has been relit; it has become bright as they’ve been reborn in God. Moreover, the line break between “birth / day” implies that this is the speaker's (re)birth, it is the day of life and love and wings, because their acceptence of God has allowed them the eternal life, and love in Heaven after their time has passed — they’ve been saved by God’s grace, and granted “wings” by the angels. The speaker's life has shifted to be joyful, full of life and love that was not there beforehand — they’ve been filled with a kind of fulfillment that can only be granted in salvation.

In the third stanza, the speaker returns to speaking aloud once again. The very first line, once again, highlights their utter thankfulness and glee to God: “how should tasting touching hearing seeing / breathing any —...” We see the lack of commas, the lack of breathing room. The speaker is illuminating how much they’ve been altered; they’re so completely filled with redemption that they do not have time to pause. The speaker feels the need to express it all at that exact moment, because they need everyone who could possibly be listening to know as quickly as possible what they might be missing out on. They need everyone to be saved with God’s grace, just as they were. The speaker’s urgency continues through the remainder of the stanza: “ — lifted from the no / of all nothing — human merely being / doubt unimagineable. You?” Just as we’ve seen throughout the entirety of the poem, the speaker again only uses capitalization when in reference to God — implying that God is the only one worthy of respect. God has lifted the speaker from their past fog, their life that seemed to hold only truth in dreams, that had been nothing, and has rebirthed them with a purpose. God has provided the speaker with so many things that seemed unimaginable beforehand, and through that, the speaker now believes it is unimaginable that any human being could doubt God. God has created the life within the trees, within the air, and within anything that exists — God has given so much, his presence is everywhere — how could one “doubt You?”.

The last stanza is the speaker's closure. They’ve finally found their way to collect all of their thanks into words; to thank God for everything that has been done, and will be done. They are once again speaking to themselves, leaving a message for their past self—and moving on once and for all: “( now the ears of my ears awake and / now the eyes of my eyes are opened )”. The speaker has been made aware in their faith — their ears have been awakened to hear the words of God, the truth that is offered. Their eyes have been opened to see God and to see everything created for its beauty. The speaker can now see and hear everything they’d missed in their faithless past, in their death. In their new life, with awakened ears and opened eyes, they can see and hear what God has to offer — and in their final death, they’ll be able to see and hear everything Heaven has to offer to them.

The core of The Precious Present’s ideology is simply to embrace and live in the present: “Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, and today is a gift—that’s why they call it the present.” Life doesn’t have any preset meaning; all that means is up to the individual, created by what one chooses to do with their free will. This ideology is presented in the film The Razor's Edge, and by examining the philosophy in relation to the characters, we can determine who becomes enlightened.

Isabel, unfortunately, seems to miss every mark from start to finish of the film. Engaged to Larry before he departed for war, but even then, it lacked a truthful, loving relationship. Their relationship lacked depth, shown when Isabel informs Larry that she has “lived up to [her] side of the bargain,” implying that their engagement is nothing more than a business exchange in her mind. She does not love Larry for who he is, but for what he can potentially offer. From the very start of the film, Isabel is lost entirely in the future of what will be and what will happen, not what is right in front of her. Larry returns from war and postpones their wedding to find “the meaning of life,” and Isabel is — what could be argued to be rightfully so — enraged. However, she’s not upset for herself in the moment, but she’s upset that their future is being “ruined”. Isabel is unable to recognize that what is happening in the present is in the present; she is solely focused on the potential future implications for herself and what she has envisioned. It seems at this moment that Isabel is stuck in the potential of a future; she’s following only her emotions — living only as a visceral man — without taking into account Larry's feelings and journeys, or what he needs to do for himself. Months later, Isabel follows Larry to Paris — staying with her Uncle Elliot — and it seems, at first, that she may have finally pulled herself into the present as she allows herself to stay with Larry, building hope that she’s realized the home is the person. Unfortunately, she leaves in the morning after seeing a cockroach on the pillow. Isabel is shallow; she cannot stay with someone who she doesn’t think can provide her with a “perfect” future, someone who doesn’t view her as “special”. Isabel returns to Chicago and marries Gray — who is extremely wealthy — and begins building her “perfect” future, settling down and having children. Although not even Isabel’s “perfect” future, which is within reach, returns her to the present, it becomes painfully obvious that she is increasingly stuck in the past. Despite being in a relationship and having what appears to be the life she always wanted, she is not over Larry. As they all reunite, it becomes abundantly clear that not only is she not over Larry, but she’s angered by the fact that he is over her. Larry begins helping Sophie, something Isabel had turned away from years prior when Sophie had begged her to stay after her husband and child died. She is disgustingly jealous of the attention Larry is providing Sophie because she is trapped in the past, where she was the one being cared for. She explodes over the concept of Sophie and Larry getting married, insisting she must buy Sophie the dress because she does not believe whatever dress she had in mind would be “good enough” for Larry. Isabel is convinced that Sophie falls short of what Larry deserves, even though this relationship is Larry’s decision. She has Sophie come over to Elliott's house, where she explodes on her, saying that she had sacrificed herself for Larry and implying that Sophie would never be good enough or deserving. She completely ridicules Sophie, before leaving her alone with alcohol — something she was freshly clean from — leading to Sophie's relapse, and ultimately her death. Later, when Larry confronts her about getting Sophie to drink again, she tries to justify herself by saying “I wanted you to see that she would let you down. Because I love you. I just wanted you to be happy. I didn’t want anyone else to hurt you,” and mentioning that she killed his fiancée just as he killed hers. She is still stuck in the past, as Larry was when they were together, no matter how much time has passed. At the end of the film, she asks Larry if she will ever see him again, to which he responds, “You just don’t get it! It doesn’t matter.” Isabel is never going to find the present; she is never going to be content where she is. Her emotions and visions of what could have been consume her and block her path to ever finding enlightenment. She will always be stuck in the past, acting solely off her emotions from those moments, but never learning from them.

Gray and Elliot both seem like background characters. Until one looks into what they are there to represent, they seem incredibly insignificant. Gray has always been in love with Isabel, before they even go off to war. Elliot has always wanted Isabel to come live with him in France and live a luxurious life. They both started off with the mindset that Isabel belonged with them in some sense and that they could make her happy. Gray operates almost entirely in cerebral man; he follows what he knows is the “correct” path. He marries a woman he knows will never love him, has children, and plays his role. He does what he knows is the practical option, never using his free will to its fullest potential for the future. Once his father dies, he pitfalls into the past. Gray becomes bedridden, incredibly depressed, and lifeless. His father's death — one he will not accept as a suicide — led to the company going bankrupt and Gray (and by association, Isabel) losing their money. It appears that Gray knew Isabel was only with him for the possessions, the money, and the “perfect” life, and that once he lost them, he became a shell of a man. He gets stuck in the past of who he was under his father. Gray is unable to understand that he is his own person, even after Larry helps him out of his own mind. Larry uses a form of guided meditation to help Gray see that the power comes from within and that he is in control of who he is and what he allows himself to be defined by. Unfortunately, this moment isn’t groundbreaking for Gray, and he continues to allow himself to be defined by what used to be and what he will be, never questioning who he currently is. He lacks a purpose and the courage to find one; Gray, like Isabel, fails to find enlightenment. Elliot also operates almost entirely in cerebral man, but it seems to be less for practicality, and more for appearances. Elliot yearns to be popular, to be considered somebody important. It’s obvious from the beginning that Elliot defines himself through his money and his social status, two things that are intertwined. He wanted Isabel to grow up with him so she’d have a perfect, wealthy life, not because he believed he’d be the perfect guardian. Like Gray, Elliot has no existence outside of his wealth and how he is viewed by others. Even on his deathbed, his main worry is the fact that he did not receive an invitation to Novimali’s party. He isn’t particularly worried that he is dying, but that those he thought were in his circle did not think the same. It was only through Larry’s lie that Elliot died happy. Elliot lived his life as a lie, and he died in one, never reaching enlightenment. One could argue that he found the present; Elliot died content with what his life was at the very end. However, this contentment was only found via a lie, and the precious present is not something that is given to you, but something that is found in yourself. Elliot failed to find the precious present because he was so entwined in a fabricated life, even in his death. Gray and Elliot both failed to find a truth to live for; they both allowed others to define them and their choices.

Sophie, on the other hand, was extremely close to finding enlightenment and, through that, the precious present. For years after Bob and Mathew — her husband and son — died, she was trapped in the past. It’s clear from her outbursts at the nuns' remark about them “being in a better place” and her begging Isabel to stay with her in the hospital. She was yearning for a friend who no longer existed, for someone who was turning their back on her in real time. As time progresses and Sophie is reintroduced, the extremity of her life is laid out. She has turned to drinking, doing drugs, and selling her body to escape the past. She began acting out and punishing herself to “justify” her pain by becoming someone who could be seen as a bad person. Sophie attempts to push Larry away once they reunite by exclaiming that he doesn’t know where she’s been and what she’s done. She doesn’t want to get better and leave the past, because it’s a comfort to her. She has found comfort in her pain, in operating viscerally, because she’s used it as justification for why her husband and son had to die. Larry, however, refuses to give up on her and continues to aid her. He gets her away from her pimp, helps her get clean, and takes care of her throughout it all. They begin to find comfort in eachother, Sophie tells Larry that he has saved her. Sophie — although it was with Larry's help — chose to leave her past behind and get better. She was healing, leaving the past and finding comfort in what was ongoing: her engagement with Larry. As they announced their engagement to Isabel, Gray, and Elliot, Sophie showed tremendous strength in denying alcohol. Her denial was a key moment in her movement away from the past and towards her heart. She loved Larry and was content in that, content in the present. Unfortunately, the journey is never perfect, and Sophie ultimately lacked the strength to overcome the obstacles. Isabel, believing Sophie was undeserving, attacks her, leaving her incredibly vulnerable. In her vulnerable state, Isabel gets Sophie to drink, firing her back into the past and destroying all the progress Sophie had made. Sophie refuses to go home with Larry, getting extremely drunk. Her body turns up the next morning, ironically, with a slit throat from a razor's edge. Sophie had been walking on the edge, seeking enlightenment and healing, when she slipped, and it killed her. Despite how close she was, Sophie ultimately failed to find enlightenment or acknowledge the present. She died in the past.

Larry, the center of it all, is the one who finds enlightenment. His journey is awfully long, starting right after Peidmont's death in the war. He returns to Chicago and wallows in the past and alcohol — living viscerally — before deciding he needs to leave to find himself and what life is meant to be. He postpones his wedding with Isabel to go to France, where he spends an unbelievable amount of time running from Elliot. He jumps from job to job, trying to find meaning in any of them. He begins to live his life as a cerebral man, contextualising everything and constantly seeking knowledge. He leaves for England, then works in the coal mines before traveling to India and living/working on a boathouse. He asks the boat's owner, “Who does the dishes?” but never receives an answer. Over time, it becomes apparent that the act of washing dishes is, in some form, holy. An act of worship, although not one that appears to have any significant impact on Larry. Although it can be viewed as an implication that each person has a different version of worship. Something holy to this man may not be holy to Larry, and that is why he cannot fully learn from the man — or anyone besides himself. If one wants to find what is holy to them, they must look inside. Larry is sent on a journey with a collection of intellectual books to the top of a mountain, and it is here that he becomes enlightened. He reaches the summit and begins reading, trying to absorb everything offered, but he is freezing. Larry chooses to start a fire with the books to keep himself warm; this is the moment he accepts the precious present. He realizes that trying to absorb knowledge without internalizing it has no current impact; he gains no wisdom from this. He’s simply consuming information that is only substantial short-term, and so he makes the choice here to prioritize his warmth and life over information that will never satiate him. Larry has become whole; he has reached enlightenment. Larry doesn’t let anything ruin him, yet he remains empathetic. He tries to help Sophie, and almost succeeds. He does everything he possibly can to help Isabel before realizing she will never understand and moving on, so he isn’t dragged into the past with her. He drags Gray out of his mind and leaves the knowledge that he has the power within him to do so. He knows Elliot is dying and nothing can be done, so he lies so the man can die happy. Larry does what is most beneficial for the present, helping all he can without losing it. He’s found himself, and in that, he finally returns home to Chicago. He has recognized that there is nothing he can do that he hasn’t already done for Gray and Isabell, because of their refusal to look inwards. He has left them to make their choices, and he has decided to return home, done with the constant traveling, because he knows he can be content no matter what.

All in all, the lesson from the movie seems simple: live in the present. All of their issues were caused by them being stuck in the past: Isabel's past with Larry, Elliot, and Gray's past with what they were defined by, and Sophie's past of the death of her family. If they had been living in the present, appreciating what they had in the moment, the movie could’ve had a happy ending for them all. The words are simple, and the lesson appears to be clear: find and accept the precious present, and you will find enlightenment. Do not take your eyes off what is. “When I see the present, accept the present, and experience the present, I am well, and I am happy. When I feel guilty over my imperfect past, or I am anxious over my uncertain future, I do not live in the present. Then, I experience pain. I make myself Ill, and I am unhappy”. Life is not perfect, and awful things may happen; however, the effect and how long that effect lasts are up to the individual. One is only as impacted as they allow themselves to be, and if one spends their entire life searching for something that was, or may be, contentment will never exist. Living in the present at all times may be incredibly difficult — like walking on a razor's edge— but the caterpillar must suffer. There isn’t a solution to suffering, but it is only temporary. By living in the present, one can move on, shortening how long they suffer. It is one's own choice to step out of the comfort of the past or the concept of the future; it is within one's own abilities to define oneself and act as who they are. Life is about balance: not being so absorbed in oneself that one misses everything around them, but not so absorbed in everyone else that the self is lost. We are what we choose to be.

The heart of the Bible is to treat every person with the same love and compassion, regardless of their beliefs and their life. However, certain people use the words as an excuse for hate– removing the context of the words and separating them from the message of love – separating religion from God; as a result preaching hypocrisy with a plank interfering with their vision. It’s imperative to first focus on ourselves and remove the plank from our own eyes before we dare to attempt to pull the splinters from others. As it says in Matthew 7:4, “How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye?” (NIV, Matthew 7:4) . In order to promote the shift to others, we must first work on ourselves, we have to remove our own plank before we worry about another’s splinter.

Although Christianity has come a long way in terms of becoming accepting and compassionate, there is still a large area of hate being perpetrated; there are still communities built upon hypocrisy and hate. We know in the past that the majority of denominations taught that Jesus’s crucifixion was on the Jews shoulders, and that the belief of supersession– that Jews no longer had a place and were superseded by Christians– was pushed. These beliefs began dying down after the Holocaust; however over a fourth of Christians still believe in supersession (Motti). Antisemitism/Anti-Judaism is still unfortunately rooted in some churches' preachings. I grew up attending bible camps and schools over summer breaks, and multiple times during these we were taught that Jewish people were – in simple terms – evil. We were told in no uncertain terms that they were the worst. Even worse, they weren’t the only group of people I remember being taught to hate. We were told that all and every Muslim was a terrorist, that any other religion was a gateway to hell, and if we dared to interact with them we’d follow them down. We were lectured one year at camp for almost two hours solely on how LGBTQ+ people are satanic, and needed to convert and beg for forgiveness. We were taught against the Bible, and against God’s teachings, with the Bible. 1 John 2:11 expresses just how important it is to love and not to hate, “But whoever hates his brother is in the darkness and walks in the darkness, and does not know where he is going, because the darkness has blinded his eyes” (NIV, 1 John 2:11). It doesn’t matter the differences, they’re still loved by God; they’re still his children. Seeing words taken out of context and bent to preach hate is nauseating, it’s a removal of God and his love from religion. Their hate is the plank blinding them; interfering with their vision while they attempt to preach the wrongs of others. Regardless of circumstances, we are not the ones to judge; it is not our job, we are no better. Hate is blinding, it’s nothing more than a handicap, and a preventable one.

The hateful messages unfortunately still preached aren’t a representation of God, but a representation of religious echo chambers. They aren’t preaching his messages, but using them to excuse their own hatred; they’re holding onto the plank in their eye with everything in their soul embedding it further into their own mind. They’re making an exclusive religion that isn’t reflective of God and his love. God loves all, and Stricker writes in her poem ‘The Thin Line’, “Heaven isn’t a gated community / Silver is covered with mud / Mud is covered with silver” (Stricker). Heaven is inclusive to all followers, sins and all. We’re all created in the image of God, and we’re all his children. We’re the mud and he’s the silver covering us and shining his love down unto us. Heaven is just as inclusive as God. Blindly following religion without searching God out on ones own is only locking that plank into one's eye. As Gigi Perez writes in her song ‘Fable’ , “Love was the law and religion was taught / understand, I look for the truth in the back of your hand, and I look into the open sky” (Perez), love is the law, love is what’s inherent. Hatred isn’t born, but taught. Religion is a collaboration of different interpretations of the Bible and the preaching of that specific way. It’s not always the truth of the words, and it’s especially not when it’s used as a shield for hate. Religion is nothing more than hypocrisy when it’s used to separate its followers from God; , but rather as a weapon for hate. When it’s used by those blinded by their own planks, to attack the splinters of others, to go after their differences while mutilating the true message of the Bible, and of God.

Making this shift is imperative to bring God back into religion, to bring love and compassion back. Removing the plank of our own eyes is the first step to remove the splinters in others. Splinters that those with planks in their eyes think are differences, but splinters that are truly just hate. If we remove our own hate, our own plank, we can remove others' splinters, their hate. Matthew 7:5, “You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye” (NIV, Matthew 7:5)

The Constitution lays out what any given person is entitled to, the First Amendment states “Congress shall make no law… abridging the freedom of speech…”, the Constitution implies that the freedom of speech is to be protected in full, and prohibited in no circumstances. Despite free speech being an outlined right, it’s being continuously violated over and over again, and artistic expression seems to be facing the worst of these unconstitutional censorships. The censorship of art, regardless of how “controversial” the art may be, is unconstitutional; it’s an issue in need of immediate solvency. It’s important to take a step now rather than never, the allowance of constitutional violations is nauseating.

Art censorship has been an issue for years, often times when a piece of art is deemed “offensive” or “controversial”, it’s taken down and/or censored. The meaning of the piece is overlooked, and the artist's freedom of speech and expression is violated. In 2014 the University of Iowa attempted to take down a piece of art depicting a figure in a Ku Klux Klan robe, and hood made out of newspaper clippings filled with stories and images of racial violence. The work was for the rising Black Lives Matter protests, and held a deep meaning to bring awareness to ongoing issues with racial violence, despite all this piece stood for and advocated for, it was removed for being controversial and potentially offensive. In 2016 a similar artistic piece was censored for similar reasons. A student, Harley, created a piece that depicted KKK members and arrested Jews from WWII. Harley created this piece to draw parallels from these horrific historical events to what was at the time an ongoing campaign rhetoric and to bring more awareness to the effortful oppression of minority groups. Harley's work was censored for the same reasons as the piece in 2014, it was too controversial. In 2017 an exhibit to bring awareness to sexual assault was removed for being “offensive” due to the quotes the exhibit displayed, quotes from the women who had been assaulted. (FIRE) Another idea was rejected in 2017 for being controversial. Scott’s proposal for a billboard displaying names of those who’d be unjustifiably killed due to police brutality, was rejected just like all of the others; his idea too controversial. (Meckseper) Unfortunately, these are not lone examples, and this unconstitutional censorship of art has not gotten reduced in the years since these incidents. In recent years with the Palestine/Israel conflict and the activism that has followed, it seems this censorship has only worsened. Hundreds of artists are unjustly, and unconstitutionally silenced. Since October of last year many projects and exhibits have been shut down or denied due to either the piece depicting a controversial opinion regarding the conflict, or even just the artist holding a controversial opinion. The National Coalition Against Censorship has provided examples of numerous examples of this, examples that seem never ending. The Palestinian artist Manna was excluded from a panel, another Palestinian artist had their career retrospective canceled, showings of the movie “Israelism” were canceled due to its controversial criticals of Zionist policies, and numerous more artists have had pieces removed, cancelled or censored due to controversial depictions (Walsh). One specific instance occurred in Vail, Colorado. SeeWalker, the artist intended to be Vail’s resident artist, had her invitation rescinded due to an unrelated piece of art, “G is for Genocide”, posted on her Instagram. She was disinvited to vail due to her art holding opinions too controversial for the city’s liking (Walsh). These artists are being censored and silenced, unconstitutionally, and have been for years too long. This is unjust, and needs to be solved. Silencing artists holds no benefits, it harbors only negatives, it removes the rights entitled to individuals in the Bill of Rights.

Many find themselves asking, “Why fix what’s not broken? Art has been censored for years.” Why change the status quo when it’s been that way so long? The simple answer to this is that, well, it’s unconstitutional. Individuals are entitled to free speech, they’re entitled to expression, and art is one of the many ways individuals decide to express themselves. Art reflects values, and values reflect a person, and large enough values reflect a society. Proponents oftentimes argue that “Art should be censored to align with the changing values of the world” (Cox). However, there is a clear key issue here: art changes values. The values of the world are dependent on the people's values, they change regarding issues, they change regarding trends. Art is a form of activism, and this activism is what shines light on modern issues many consider over; it brings awareness. This enlightenment is what causes people to open their eyes and realize they’re harboring outdated values. Art isn’t the only form of activism, but it is one of the most prevalent, and with the increasing censorship of controversial art, they’re effectively silenced, and issues remain unknown. This unjust censorship has continued for much too long, and it’s better late than never to fix an issue. Times change, and values change, yes, but art often acts as a catalyst for these changes and censoring it allows for the harboring of outdated values, which, in turn, leads to an outdated country and citizens unaware of the issues next door. This artistic suppression leads to conformity, it limits diversity and narrows what’s ‘acceptable’. It deprives society of perspectives and commentary that tends to be critical of ongoing issues (Sabti). Change is better late than never, violating individuals constitutional rights under the fact that it’s been that way for years is only set to perpetuate the already protruding problems.

So, what is the solvency here? Truthfully, this sounds like such a mundane issue that to answer this question you could just respond: “Stop censoring art. Just let projects run their life”, and whilst this would be ideal, it’s wishful thinking. Solvency, unfortunately, must start small, especially with censorship increasing as global conflicts worsen, and art gets more political. In order to start halting this unjust, unconstitutional, and silencing censorship, there must be open minds. Individuals have to be prepared to see controversial artwork depicting views opposing their own. Art is an immensely powerful medium for bringing light to the darker sides of society (Sobti). Censoring controversial art does nothing but suppress and silence these voices. To solve this not only do people need to go out and readily acknowledge opposing beliefs, but Congress needs to advocate for artists rights to expression, rights outlined to every person in the Constitution. The Senate needs to complete their parts in upholding the Constitution. It is, in part, on these members to ensure no one is being treated as less than, and the continuous censorship of artists is treating them as less then. Small steps being taken is essential to solve this and ensure every individual is able to express themselves and their art as they so are entitled to. No person's view trumps others, and no one should be silenced for having different views that are controversial. The very start of the Constitution states that, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, every man is created equal…”, regardless of the depiction of the art, the artist is equal to those attempting to silence and censor them. Standing by and allowing these individuals to have their First Amendment rights violated is ill, it does not matter the differing views, or how controversial the art may seem, it is that artists have the right to express themselves. The Constitution and the rights outlined in it need to be upheld as intended.

“Aristotle believed that true fulfillment comes not from self-indulgence, but from a life of virtue. When young people serve not for recognition but for the joy of contributing, they experience what Aristotle called ‘eudaimonia’—a deep, lasting fulfillment. Service, then, is not just a duty; it is a path to a richer, more meaningful life.” It holds a purpose.

The majority of the time when we speak of service our focal point is charity acts, but a “We-Serve” mindset isn’t about isolated acts of charity, but about fostering a deep-rooted sense of responsibility toward others, & recognizing that our actions, no matter how small they may be, have the power to uplift an entire community, inclusive of ourselves. A “we-serve” mindset is the change of “me” to “we”. A "we-Serve" mindset is a way of thinking that prioritizes collective well-being over individual gain. It’s the belief that serving others isn’t just an occasional act of charity but a fundamental responsibility that benefits both the individual and their community.

Establishing a “we-serve” mindset requires the shift from apathy towards empathy; the shift from extrinsic motivation towards intrinsic motivation. For individuals to truly develop a mindset, they have to believe in what it stands for. To harbor a “we-serve” mindset, they must truly believe, and want to serve for others, and in relation, themselves: ourselves. So, what role can we play to help young people develop a we-serve mindset in today's world? Especially when, in today's world, it’s individual gain that’s prioritized.

To truly foster this “We-Serve” mindset, we must first help increase empathy, by addressing the absolute lack of it within the youth. When deciding to do something people tend to have the first thought of “What’s in it for me? What do I gain?”, they harbor the belief that service is a sacrifice, rather than a catalyst for a sense purpose. Too often service is approached with a savior mindset, people begin thinking that “ ’I'm doing this to help people who need me.’ ‘I have to save them.’ ‘I have to pity them.’ – all because they’re below me ”. The meaning of service falls wayside, and with that goes the mindset. We have a role, an obligation to halt this thinking & this complex. Service isn’t about pity, or superiority, but community. The African philosophy of Ubuntu teaches that "I am because we are” – Ubuntu is rooted in a relational form of personhood, basically meaning that you are because of others; it is about coming together and building a consensus around what affects the community. It teaches that service is not an individual act of charity but a communal responsibility, one that nurtures both the giver and the receiver. Ubuntu teaches that when we serve others, we are not doing so out of superiority, but out of mutual respect. Every act of kindness reinforces our shared humanity. At its core, a “we-serve” mindset is Ubuntu in action. It is the recognition that no one thrives alone, that our success is measured by the well-being of our very own communities, and that service is not just about the service but it is about growth, and connectivity, and becoming more human together.

"I am because we are." , which can lead from “What will I gain?” to “What will we gain?” Once young people understand that serving others is not just about helping the needy but about building a better world for all—including themselves—they begin to see service not as a sacrifice, but as a source of purpose. Which is step one in developing a “we-serve” mindset.

The second step to developing this mindset within the youth is by shifting their reasons of service, getting them to understand that service isn’t a burden, or a sacrifice. It’s shifting from extrinsic motivation to intrinsic motivation, towards serving for personal fulfillment. We have to inspire young people to WANT to serve, so that their service is sustainable. We have to make them see that service is much, much more than another box on their checklist for a college application, because if they only view service as an obligation, they can never truly harbor a “we-serve” mindset. We have a role to assist those younger than us to find what drives them – whether that be the environment, or justice –, to help them find their connection within service so that they can begin to see service as something that enriches their own lives just as much as it may enrich the lives of others. We have to help them understand that service towards others is service for all, including themselves. That service isn’t just another stepping stone to appear a better person – we have a role to help them understand that service is also for them. When they can connect with the causes that speak to their hearts, when they can feel that personal connection, they’re capable of making the shift from sacrifice to fulfillment. They can start WANTING to serve, without hesitating on the question of “What do I gain?”, because they’ll know they’re gaining within a community, and they’ll know this due to the spark of a “we-serve” mindset.

But, most importantly of all – to fully play our role – we have to show them with more than our spoken words. Helping the youth develop this mindset our role isn’t just teaching and lecturing them on how to do so, but showing them with our very own actions. We have to step into the role of a leader, and lead them by example. We have to look upon the youth and recognize they’re looking at us for what to do – we have to show them how we serve for ourselves, and others – we have to reflect our own “we-serve” mindset, in order to help those younger develop theirs.

So, when considering what role can we play to help young people develop a we-serve mindset in today's world, we have to complete three crucial steps:
We first have to shift their first thoughts from “What will I gain?” to “What will we gain?”, helping them understand that service is inclusive for all, it’s benefiting them just as much as it’s benefiting those that they’re serving. There is no hierarchy in service, everyone is playing an equal part. Allowing them & helping them to remain informed of all cultures so they have the ability to connect with those they serve, or serving alongside. Forcing them to ask what they’ve learned after each moment. Secondly, we have to shift their reasons for service away from obligation towards self fulfillment, we have to help them want to serve by helping them discover their own purpose; helping them find service in those areas. We can create youth-led initiatives into service, allowing them to start and run programs or complete tasks off of their own interests to maintain sustainability with their mindsets. Finally, we have to demonstrate our own “we-serve” mindsets, our actions are stronger than our words. We can set up mentorship programs where we step up in that leadership role and teach by example: We have to be the example they look up to and mold themselves off of, and only then can we say we’ve done our part.