Showing the loss of all hope.

Despair is a truly beautiful virtue, one that encapsulates so much of what it means to be human. When we are finally pushed to the brink - to the “I don't know” point, to the “I can't see anything else other than this situation as I perceive it right now” point - we break. The armour of certainty and confidence chinks. We experience our own vulnerability. And in that moment, we experience truth.

We are vulnerable. Despite the many ways we organise our lives and our experiences, we live a tenuous existence, with our happiness reliant on so much that is outside of our control remaining the same. But, it doesn't. It can't, it won't. Nature refuses. We are caught in a perpetual cycle of glorious, magnificent evolution. 

Despair is a signpost that change is happening; it’s our white flag of surrender, where we start to succumb to our need to evolve with the changing internal and external landscapes of ourselves and others. 

When we cry out in our despair, we acknowledge both our desire for change, and our willingness to receive help to face whatever is in front of us. 

And something magical happens: the unfolding gift of time. We don't see it immediately, but the stuckness of whatever situation that we are in begins to unstick. Whatever season we are in, begins to pass. 

“Can I sail through the changing ocean tides? Can I handle the seasons of my life? I've been afraid of changing, cause I built my life around you. But time makes you bolder.” (Fleetwood Mac, Landslide)