Chicken Soup for the Soul

Carpe Diem! 
One who stands as a shining example of courageous expression is John 
Keating, the transformative teacher portrayed by Robin Williams in 
Dead Poets Society. In this masterful motion picture, Keating takes a 
group of regimented, uptight and spiritually impotent students at a rigid 
boarding school and inspires them to make their lives extraordinary. 
These young men, as Keating points out to them, have lost sight of their 
dreams and ambitions. They are automatically living out their parents' 
programs and expectations for them. They plan to become doctors, 
lawyers and bankers because that is what their parents have told them 
they are going to do. But these dry fellows have given hardly any 
thought to what their hearts are calling them to express. 
An early scene in the movie shows Mr. Keating taking the boys down to 
the school lobby where a trophy case displays photos of earlier 
graduating classes. "Look at these pictures, boys," Keating tells the 
students. "The young men you behold had the same fire in their eyes 
that you do. They planned to take the world by storm and make 
something magnificent of their lives. That was 70 years ago. Now they 
are all pushing up daisies. How many of them really lived out their 
dreams? Did they do what they set out to accomplish?" Then Mr. 
Keating leans into the cluster of preppies and whispers audibly, "Carpe 
diem! Seize the day!" 
At first the students do not know what to make of this strange teacher. 
But soon they ponder the importance of his words. They come to 
respect and revere Mr. Keating, who has given them a new vision—or 
returned their original ones. 
All of us are walking around with some kind of birthday card we would 
like to give—some personal expression of joy, creativity or aliveness 
that we are hiding under our shirt. 
One character in the movie, Knox Overstreet, has a terminal crush on a 
gorgeous girl. The only problem is that she is the girlfriend of a famous 
jock. Knox is infatuated with this lovely creature down to a cellular 
level but he lacks the confidence to approach her. Then he remembers 
Mr. Keating's advice: Seize the day! Knox realizes he cannot just go on 
dreaming—if he wants her, he is going to have to do something about it. 
And so he does. Boldly and poetically he declares to her his most 
sensitive feelings. In the process he gets turned away by her, punched in 
the nose by her boyfriend and faces embarrassing setbacks. But Knox is 

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unwilling to forsake his dream, so he pursues his heart's desire. 
Ultimately she feels the genuineness of his caring and opens her heart to 
him. Although Knox is not especially good-looking or popular, the girl 
is won over by the power of his sincere intention. He has made his life 
extraordinary. I had a chance to practice seizing the day myself. I 
developed a crush on a cute girl I met in a pet store. She was younger 
than I, she led a very different lifestyle and we did not have a great deal 
to talk about. But somehow none of this seemed to matter. I enjoyed 
being with her and I felt a sparkle in her presence. And it seemed to me 
she enjoyed my company as well. 
When I learned her birthday was coming up, I decided to ask her out. 
On the threshold of calling her, I sat and looked at the phone for about 
half an hour. Then I dialed and hung up before it rang. I felt like a high 
school boy, bouncing between excited anticipation and fear of rejection. 
A voice from hell kept telling me that she would not like me and that I 
had a lot of nerve asking her out. But I felt too enthusiastic about being 
with her to let those fears stop me. Finally I got up the nerve to ask her. 
She thanked me for asking and told me she already had plans. 
I felt shot down. The same voice that told me not to call advised me to 
give up before I was further embarrassed. But I was intent on seeing 
what this attraction was about. There was more inside of me that wanted 
to come to life. I had feelings for this woman, and I had to express them. 
I went to the mall and got her a pretty birthday card on which I wrote a 
poetic note. I walked around the corner to the pet shop where I knew 
she was working. As I approached the door, that same disturbing voice 
cautioned me, "What if she doesn't like you? What if she rejects you?" 
Feeling vulnerable, I stuffed the card under my shirt. I decided that if 
she showed me signs of affection, I would give it to her; if she was cool 
to me, I would leave the card hidden. This way I would not be at risk 
and would avoid rejection or embarrassment. 
We talked for a while and I did not get any signs one way or the other 
from her. Feeling ill-at-ease, I began to make my exit. 
As I approached the door, however, another voice spoke 
to me. It came in a whisper, not unlike that of Mr. Keating. It prompted 
me, "Remember Knox Overstreet. . . . Carpe diem!" Here I was 
confronted with my aspiration to fully express my heart and my 
resistance to face the insecurity of emotional nakedness. How can I go 
around telling other people to live their vision, I asked myself, when I 
am not living my own? Besides, what's the worst thing that could 

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happen? Any woman would be delighted to receive a poetic birthday 
card. I decided to seize the day. As I made that choice I felt a surge of 
courage course through my veins. There was indeed power in intention. 
1 felt more satisfied and at peace with myself than I had in a long 
time… I needed to learn to open my heart and give love without 
requiring anything in return. 
I took the card out from under my shirt, turned around, walked up to the 
counter and gave it to her. As I handed it to her I felt an incredible 
aliveness and excitement—plus fear. (Fritz Perls said that fear is 
"excitement without breath.") But I did it. 
And do you know what? She was not particularly impressed. She said, 
"Thanks" and put the card aside without even opening it. My heart sank. 
I felt disappointed and rejected. Getting no response seemed even worse 
than a direct brush-off. 
I offered a polite good-bye and walked out of the store. Then something 
amazing happened. I began to feel exhilarated. A huge rush of internal 
satisfaction welled up within me and surged through my whole being. I 
had expressed my heart and that felt fantastic! I had stretched beyond 
fear and gone out on the dance floor. Yes, I had been a little clumsy, but 
I did it. (Emmet Fox said, "Do it trembling if you must, but do it!") I 
had put my heart on the line without demanding a guarantee of the 
results. I did not give in order to get something back. I opened my 
feelings to her without an attachment to a particular response. 
The dynamics that are required to make any relationship work: Just 
keep putting your love out there. 
My exhilaration deepened to a warm bliss. I felt more satisfied and at 
peace with myself than I had in a long time. I realized the purpose of the 
whole experience: I needed to learn to open my heart and give love 
without requiring anything in return. This experience was not about 
creating a relationship with this woman. It was about deepening my 
relationship with myself. And I did it. Mr. Keating would have been 
proud. But most of all, I was proud. 
I have not seen the girl much since then, but that experience changed 
my life. Through that simple interaction I clearly saw the dynamics that 
are required to make any relationship and perhaps the whole world 
work: Just keep putting your love out there. 
We believe that we are hurt when we don't receive love. But that is not 
what hurts us. Our pain comes when we do not give love. We were born 

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to love. You might say that we are divinely created love machines. We 
function most powerfully when we are giving love. The world has led 
us to believe that our well-being is dependent on other people loving us. 
But this is the kind of upside-down thinking that has caused so many of 
our problems. The truth is that our well-being is dependent on our 
giving love. It is not about what comes back; it is about what goes out! 
Alan Cohen 

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