Walter Bidlake

Aldous Huxley's novel Point Counter Point begins with the showcasing of Walter Bidlake, an emotional and romantic young journalist who finds himself trapped in a relationship he is no longer interested in. Walter is depicted as rather "high-class," which becomes clear when he collides with a man who "[hates] the uniformed gentleman," (11).
Walter's story is simple, but possesses some very complex emotional roots. He strikes up an affair with Marjorie, an insecure woman stuck in a rather unhappy marriage, and later runs away with her. It is right about the time that Walter begins to lose interest in his once passionate and spontaneous relationship that Marjorie becomes pregnant. Walter soon becomes hatefully resentful of both his lover and his unborn child. His urge to escape the dreary future ahead of him manifests in a newfound obsession: Lucy Tantamount.
Lucy, an independent sadomasochist, loves to string along poor, weak Walter. His attraction to her reveals another side of him. In his relationship with Marjorie, he is the one who holds the power. He manipulates her, suppresses her feelings, and ultimately decides whether to stay or leave (with exception to the pregnancy.) With Lucy, however, Walter forfeits all power, all strength. He becomes a beggar for love, perhaps because of his deeply romantic personality. It's possible that his attraction stems from the fact that Lucy is unreachable, unlike the sad, ugly woman he has left at home.

"I ought to have insisted,' he was thinking. 'Brutally. Kissed her again and again. Compelled her to love me. Why didn't I? Why?' He didn't know. Or why she had kissed him, unless it was just provocatively, to make her desire her more violently, to make him more hopelessly her slave." (Huxley 90).

Inspired by an Old Journal

I loathe the thought of a monotonous life. It scares me to think about the repetitive loop that we find ourselves stuck in. When I think about the last 17 years of my life, I see a variety of experiences. I see my first day of school, my first kiss, the fights I had with my best friend, the tests I passed and the tests I failed. They're all colorful memories, full of life and excitement. The frightening part is that all of these moments will be repeated. I will have another first day of school, I will have more first kisses, I will fight with my friends indefinitely. To this day I wonder if this cycle will eventually cause these experiences to lose their significance. I ponder whether or not the future I have in front of me will be as momentous as my youth.
I recently found an old journal that I wrote in sporadically throughout my freshman and sophomore year of high school. There were entries about everything: my first high school party, the days I would wake up early to go take pictures of the sunrise, the time the boy I liked talked to me. They were all silly and innocent, but extremely impactful moments in my life. One passage stood out in particular. It was in the form of a letter to my future self. I reminded myself to continue seeking adventure, to appreciate the little things in life, and to never forget my dreams. I still worry that I will one day forget these things. I see how easy people get wrapped up in the routine of adulthood. They try their hardest to make the best life for themselves, but forget to truly enjoy their lives. They worry about money instead of adventure. They appreciate only the big moments, and disregard the small things. They sacrifice their dreams to meet what society expects from them. This was what I was warning against when I wrote that entry, and I hope that I can hold onto that warning in the next stage of my life.

Existence Precedes Essence

Jean Paul Sartre developed the philosophical idea that our existence, our being, precedes our essence, or our meaning. Every human being alive begins by simply existing, but it is through our actions that we truly define ourselves.
The Universe is constantly acting on us. Every moment, we are being pushed and pulled by thousands of outside forces. For many of us, it is easy to simply let the world carry us through life in a mindless trance. We wake up, eat, work, sleep, and repeat. We never cease existing, but are we living? The moment that we begin to think and act for ourselves is the moment that we bring about our true essence.
In regards to "The Stranger," Mersault is a prime example of a person living without essence. He allows the Universe to act on him, but never takes these actions into ownership. From the outside looking in, it seems as though Mersault is living a typical, satisfying life. He works, he grieves, he befriends, he marries. But the inner-monologue that the novel gives us access to tells a very different story. There is detachment in every word. He works because he needs to sustain a job to support himself. He grieves because that is what is expected of someone who has just lost their mother. He befriends because others befriend him. He marries simply because a woman asks him to. He exists because existence was granted to him.
However, things take a drastic turn at the novel's midpoint. In the midst of a climactic fight, Mersualt is given a choice: to die or to kill. For the first time, he takes his life into his own hands and makes a choice that veers away from the simple routine and threatens to drag him into the thing he has so long avoided: essence.

Walt Whitman, "Song of Myself"

Has anyone supposed it lucky to be born?I hasten to inform him or her it is just as lucky to die, and I know it.I pass death with the dying and birth with the new-wash'd babe, and am not contain'd between my hat and boots

It is no secret that our bodies are composed of millions of invisible atoms, all of which have been in existence since the creation of the universe. Atoms cannot be created nor can they be destroyed, therefore, they are recycled. Our bodies are composed of the same molecules that once made up hundreds and thousands of people and things before us. Our deaths are not truly deaths, just a breaking of matter. We are infinite, immortal beings who continue to live on in different forms of the universe.

And with this, we can conclude that our identities, our sense of personhood, are not contained to a certain mold, but instead have the ability to shift and change throughout our lifetime and beyond. Our bodies, as well as our mental state, continuously grow with the earth around us. In essence, we are flexible and malleable creatures.

This particular excerpt may serve as a commentary on society's views of "identity." We as a species tend to put each other in boxes, such as the "intellectuals" or the "free spirits." But this is an inaccurate representation of our potential. We can be both an intellectual and a free spirit. We can be a free spirit in one life and an intellectual in the next. We are not defined by our most prevalent quality, but by all of our qualities (and our potential qualities) as a whole.

With this theory that we are a collection of recycled atoms, one can conclude that we can be more than just a person. It sounds strange, the thought of the molecules that your heart is composed of could once have been a part of a star, but it's a very real possibility. We have a relationship to our environment and the objects within it that is far more complex than what meets the eye. They are a part of us, as we are a part of them. It takes this understanding to truly believe that we live on far after our body dies.

Nature vs. Nurture

Is empathy innate? Is it something we are born with? Something we are taught? This question came up briefly during our Out of the Silent Planet Socratic seminar this week, and inspired me to ponder it myself.
Someone mentioned that humans are biologically programmed to be selfish, that we need to think of ourselves first in order to survive. Although this is true when speaking of human relationships with other species, we are actually born with a natural motivation to help those around us survive. In essence, we are born with "selfless genes." It's simple biology: in order for a species to survive and continue to pass their DNA to the next generation, altruism must be displayed among the organisms. This is the reason one meerkat stands guard in watch for predators while his fellow companions eat. Like us, these animals are biologically programmed to help and care for one another.
So if we are born with genes that make us instinctively empathetic and selfless, why does human society so often display acts of cruelty and selfishness? The answer can be found with a quick google search. When given a choice between helping someone else and helping ourselves, we choose the one that most benefits us. If giving a homeless man a dollar on your way to work fills you with pride and happiness, odds are you're going to do it. But if you need that dollar to buy yourself lunch that day, are you still gonna give it away? Are you going to let yourself go hungry so someone else doesn't? Probably not.
Not only does biology play a role in this tug-of-war between selflessness and selfishness, but so does the way we are brought up. Some are taught to be ruthless, to "crush the competition," or "step over anyone in order to get themselves to the top." This truly seems to be the case in modern day, especially in school and work settings that are full of people desperate to earn their own success. Others, however, are taught to be charitable and compassionate. Our environment, our goals, and our own perception of society all greatly affect the way we treat one another.
To answer the initial question: yes, empathy is something most of us are born with, but it is also something we must be taught in order to act on. A corrupted society creates a corrupted person. It takes a whole lot of self-reflection and inner-peace to combat those feelings of "me, me, me." But hey, who said selfishness was always a bad thing?

Fact or Opinion

"Everything we hear is an opinion, not a fact. Everything we see is a perspective, not a truth." -Marcus Aurelius

 What proof do we have that anything we believe to be true is actually true? Every fact we have come to accept, every piece of scientific evidence, every spec of proof, is fragile. Fact has no meaning in relativity to the universe, it is simply speculation. 
Let's say I made the statement that solid objects aren't able to disappear into thin air. I have never seen it happen, nor has anyone else. Science backs up my conclusion. But if one day I witness an object in front of me vanish. What then? My prior beliefs have suddenly become meaningless and false. The idea that objects can't suddenly disappear is my opinion, but there is no way to prove it is truly fact. 
When speaking on the topic of perspective, the same concept applies. The way I see an object or person can never be truth. This is because, no matter how I see it, there will always be someone who see it differently than me. The contradiction of two perspectives destroys all hope of something ever being universally true. The very definition of truth states that it is something "that which is true or in accordance with fact or reality." But the question is, who defines fact? Who defines reality?

Personal Philosophy: The Pursuit of Happiness

I am, and always have been, a believer in the the idea that although our lives do not hold any one true meaning, they have the ability to be fulfilled through a lifestyle full of love and positivity. It may sound cliché and overly-optimistic, but I truly don't see a point in living a life of dull routine that lacks the stimulation we need to be truly content with ourselves and our surroundings. Our purpose as human-beings is not simply to survive, but to also flourish. Happiness, quite literally, translates in Greek to "human flourishing."'
It is not only our personal happiness that brings meaning to our lives, but also the happiness we emit to those around us. I, personally, feel satisfaction whenever I do something kind, even if it is simply smiling at a stranger on the street. I want to do that throughout my life, find ways to spread love to others, because what is happiness if there's no one with whom you can share it with? What is living if there's no one with whom you can share it with?
So, simply, I want to be fulfilled and satisfied on my death bed. I don't want to look back and remember all the risks I did not take or all the people I didn't reach out to. I want to fill my life with excitement and positivity and surround myself with wonderful people. I want to embrace the downs as much as I embrace the ups. Because honestly, all that matters in the end is the memory. Life simply becomes a thing to look back on, and I want to be content when I do that.