Time and Death

by Sophie Villasfer


"Time is movement," said Mr. Calasanz.  It signifies change, growth, and development.  It can be described objectively as chronos -- that is, through seconds, minutes, hours, days and so on.  It can also be described subjectively as kairos.  Kairos was described through an experience of waiting and spending time with the beloved.  Waiting for 10 minutes for the beloved feels that time is so slow (almost like forever), but spending the same amount of 10 minutes with the beloved seems so fast.  In terms of chronos, both were objectively 10 minutes, but not in the sense of kairos.  In a way, kairos is felt time.

 I would like to relate this to the question in the song "Seasons of Love": How do you measure, measure a year?  Perhaps we speak of chronos when we belt out " Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes".  And maybe we speak of kairos when we sing "In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee/ In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife."  Time is not just described by the clock,  it is also described by our experiences.

From describing time and the experience of it, Mr. Calasanz then describes the past, present, and future.  Why is it that even when the past is done, it still feels real to us?  Why is it that even when painful experiences happened many years ago, we still feel the hurt as if it happened just now?  The past becomes present as we continue putting meaning to it.  This meaning, whether the past has affected us positively or negatively, still contributes to who we are now.  For this reason, Mr. Calasanz suggested that the right attitude regarding the past is one of gratitude.  No matter what happened in the past, pleasant or painful, it helped in the creation of the person we are today.

Reflecting on this, I think this implies that we have the choice of how we give meaning to our past.  We have the power to give meaning to our experiences, to the things that happened to us.  We can use our experiences, whether they are positive or negative, to give meaning to our growth.  There is some truth in the saying "It is not what happens to us, but how we react to it".  In this context, maybe we can say that although what happens to us are important, overtime what is more important is how we interpret the experience in such a way that we learn from it.  The lesson can be as simple as life does not end with failure.  There is value in learning that one can still continue with life despite disaster.

Mr. Calasanz then describes the future.  The future is full of surprises. With the word "surprise", it can be divided to "sur" meaning out and "prise" meaning control.  Hence being surprised, is being out of control.  And many people do not like that.  Hence they plan out their future even for the next five to ten years.  Through planning, through imagining what would happen in the future, the future then becomes past.  This is because what has objectively not happened yet has already been laid out in one's head.  For the person, it has already happened.  Hence, the capability to foresee, or predict.  However, in reality, we cannot really see the future all the time.  In fact, there will be instances wherein a person is faced with a disaster and he or she exclaims "I have no future!".  However, it is when we do not have any grasp of what to expect, when our hands are completely empty, that we are free to receive everything.  For this reason, the future can be viewed with hope.  The future can be seen as a gift yet to be given, yet to be unwrapped.

Then I thought, maybe if we view the future with hope, we become less anxious, less worried.  If we view the future as a gift, we see it in a better light instead of seeing it with despair.  How about when dreadful things do happen despite our hope?  H.G. Wells gives a good answer:  "While there is a chance of the world getting through its troubles, I hold that a reasonable man has to behave as though he were sure of it.  If at the end your cheerfulness is not justified, at any rate you will have been cheerful."

Mr. Calasanz then asked, "If we view the past with gratitude and the future with hope, how about the present?"  He then describes the present as a commitment.  It is constantly keeping one's word, and it is an ongoing decision.  This ongoing decision can be related to the future.  In the hope of our future, we take actions that lead us there.  For example, a college student decides to take pre-med subjects in the hope of entering medical school and being a doctor.  All three attitudes: to see the past with gratitude, to see the future with hope, and the present as a commitment -- all these make the person solid and whole.

I wondered, is it a coincidence that many things were related to the idea of a gift?  Both the past and the future are seen as gifts that has been given to us, or will be given to us.  Perhaps commitment enters the picture when we commit to view all aspects of life as a gift.  To have an attitude of gratitude is a commitment; it is not easy all the time.

Mr. Calasanz then proceeded to talking about death.  According to Heidegger, people have an inauthentic view regarding death.  People see it as far from them, as unreal.  However, he explained that it is not our own death that is most painful. Marcel said that it is the death of the beloved other that hurts us.  When people we love die, we will be left alone.  We are the ones left in pain. Later on Mr. Calasanz describes death as the radical other, the perfect stranger that we know nothing of, and we do not want to know of it.  Finally, he ends with an assignment: Imagine if you were to die tonight.  Who would we talk to before we die? Perhaps that beloved person is the perfect stranger.

I was confused by his last line.  How could the phrase "perfect stranger" from being ascribed to death, suddenly be used to describe the beloved?  Is it because that we usually live our lives ignoring the important people in our lives, that they become strangers to us?  Is it because when put in the context of death, we suddenly see these people and realize that we have not fully experienced them, and them to us?  If this is the case, then thinking of death is not purely morbid thinking, but maybe, putting some things in perspective.  The important things in life suddenly come into focus.

Given all of this, we go back to the question of Sir Earl in class: "How are we to live knowing that everything passes?  Is there still value in living when nothing really lasts?"  Perhaps the value in life lies in the bigger picture.  The value is in seeing the whole life as a gift.  The movement of  every experience embedded in time is a gift.  To exist in itself is a gift, because we experience the rich abundance of life.  Some say that the secret is to appreciate everything, but not to hold on to them. It is true that when we are committed to this attitude of appreciation, we are busy experiencing -- going out of ourselves.  Andrew Matthews phrases it well when he said that abundance lies not in the accumulation of what we have, but in what is circulating in our lives.  When we are busy going out of ourselves, in the sense of the giving of our ourselves through loving others, we forget about grieving over things lost because our focus is not anymore in taking in, but in giving out.    We are to live in view of the transcendent, of what goes beyond ourselves.  The value in living is being loved, and the experience of having loved.  What is the proof of this?  Usually, people are afraid of death because they realize they have not loved enough.  On the other hand, those who have loved are less afraid because they are secure that their lives have been worthwhile.  As mentioned before, having an attitude of gratitude is a commitment.   When this gratitude is directed towards others, when we are grateful of the people in our lives, it becomes easier to love, to live, and even to die.

There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.

- 1 John 4:18