I just stabbed myself with a pencil accidentally. It doesn’t hurt too much but i’ve got a hole in the meat of the mount below my right ring finger. Is that Jupiter?

Warning: There is a serious spoiler for Dead Poet’s Society at the end. If you haven’t seen it, go watch it now. Or don’t blame me for learning about the ending.

I watched dead poet’s society on saturday. This is one of my favorite movies, but as it neared the end i realized that i hadn’t watched it in a long time (at least three years) and some of my feelings had changed. I still love it, but i always empathized most strongly with Neil or Todd before, and now i find myself empathizing with Professor Keating far more than any of the students. I also find that i have a greater understanding of newanda, who used to seem shallow and weak to me. And i was very surprised, and confused with myself over my reaction to Neil. It says a lot that i used to identify with a character i now have a great deal of anger and contempt for.

I’m no longer the kid who’s likely to off myself any day. I’m not biding time or struggling against any unjust parental regime. I’m not the young man who spent two years in a loveless relationship because it was better than loneliness. I’m not afraid of speaking my truth or sharing my passions or fears, nor am i afraid of the consequences.

Like Keating, i know what i have to offer and I’m trying to fulfill that potential every day, often by thwarting a perceived authority knowing there may be unpleasant consequences for my actions. And like Keating, i often have to consider my actions carefully. Is the information or encouragement that i offer going to be detrimental to the person I’m sharing it with?

This last question is a major thematic thought for me lately. I’ve always chosen to err on the side of safety, keeping my words back when i had doubt about their usefulness, or if i worried they would harm more than help. I’m questioning this recently, because sometimes it seems that my caution causes more problems than it solves. I’ve yet to determine if my value towards the rights of the divine self to operate free from influence are indeed as sacred as i treat them.

One of my longest-held, and most dear ethics is that i do not interfere in the lives of those around me unless asked to do so. And when asked i do not try to shape people into the person i think they should be. I believe in helping them become the person they want to be, even if i disagree with their choices or beliefs. I have been tempted to flout that ethic on more than one occasion, but for the most part i have refrained from doing so.

That ethic does not seem to be in danger of changing any time soon, but one of the patterns that has evolved from it has been called into question a few times recently. I do my best not to interfere in other peoples choices, and will not try to force you down a path that you don’t want to take. This raises a dilemma when I believe that path will hurt or damage other people. It is the dilemma of the pacifist. If the path we’re talking about is “I have a gun and I’m going to shoot him.” my choice is clear. I’m not a pacifist and I’ll use force if I have to. But there is a lot more gray here than I wish there were.

If I believe, or suspect that a particular path, or choice, will lead to pain or destruction, do I have an obligation to try and prevent that? In all but the most clear cases (as above) I tend to think that I do not have the authority to intervene. Personal responsibility demands that people act according to their nature and accept the consequences. I tend to believe that preventing someone from making mistakes is generally not doing them a favor, even if it saves them, or someone else, a great deal of pain in the immediate.

But lately, I’ve been feeling a greater authority in these matters. I’ve been questioning where I draw that line. How certain of doom do I have to be before it’s okay to intercede? I don’t have an answer right now, but I’m thinking about it a lot.

And of course that’s all bound up in Dead Poet’s Society and Professor Keating. John Keating has an opportunity to change the lives of his students. And he uses it well. He gives them the tools, knowledge, and power to make their own choices and course in life. But with that opportunity, he takes on an element of responsibility for what his students do with the tools he’s given them. In the tragic instance of Neil, it means questioning himself. If he had chosen to help Neil get by, help him survive the crushing burden of his families expectations he may have lived to make his own choices. Instead he helped Neil to soar, to insist upon his right to his life, and in so doing helped Neil make the choice to die.

One of the lessons that we are supposed to take away from Dead Poet’s Society is the powerful need to express yourself, and that attempting to repress your child is dangerous. These things are true, but the movie very plainly blames Neil’s parents for his suicide. The parents and the school blame Professor Keating. Keating himself, and perhaps in the end Todd, are the only ones who allow for Neil’s self responsibility. Neil chose to end his life. Regardless of what drove him to it, he exercised the most fundamental right of any living creature, that of determining how he chose to live, or not.

The realization of the film though, the stark power recognized after Neil’s suicide, is that it could have been prevented. If Neil were not the coward he is. If his father had been even slightly more compassionate. If his mother had stood up for him. If Professor Keating were a bit more aware of the danger Neil faced. If the members of the theater were more careful to verify that Neil had permission to participate. A hundred people had the opportunity to save Neil’s live. A hundred people, including Neil himself dropped the ball.

The lesson here is that every person in a life counts. Everyone has the opportunity to make a difference. Every one of us is connected. Every one of us touches countless people each day, and trite thought it is, we affect each of them.

I’m not some guru who gives blessings to every person I meet. I do not have the discipline to focus upon the holy with every interaction and moment. There are days when It is all I can do to treat myself with compassion, let alone the world around me.

I do try though. I try to be aware of the people around me, how I’m affecting them and how they’re affecting me. Occasionally I’ll say a prayer for someone, or cast a spell for them, because I perceive they have need of it. Sometimes I’ll make a point of catching someones eye and smiling, or saying hi, because I think they need to be touched, or because I have need of that connection myself. And that is what I can offer.

My attention as best I can. My love, as free as it can be. My words, be they leaden or full of grace.