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Hope.

Certainly something all of us, without exception, possess in some fibre of our being, at some point in our existence; an object we bear even now. Ever thought about what it is, and what it means?

We are always hoping for something, aren't we? Hoping to be able to obtain something we covet, or perhaps hoping that someone close will come to no harm. Hoping for a bad situation to turn better, or for good days never to come to epilogue. Hoping that our relationships stand the test of time. Hoping to get the job we want, or hoping to pass/score well/improve on tests and examinations.

The list goes on and on. Hope is undying. When you think about it, our lives are endless cycles of hope. Let us hypothesize a certain situation, where we are hoping for success. It fails; we then hope it will not fail so abjectly. It fails abjectly; we then hope that in a future similar situation, history will not repeat itself. And when that future situation arrives, the cycle begins anew. The only thing that ever changes is what one hopes for.

We live eternal projections into futurity, endlessly imagining what is to come. An immortal cycle of beginnings and endings. Billions of consciences work in concert, living forever in hope, forming a cosmic dog chasing its own tail.

To truly lose hope, then, is impossible. To lose hope is to transcend mortality. To lose hope is to be able to feast with the gods - to become truly apathetic, beyond the petty concerns of mortal flesh, blood, mind and soul. It is a goal beyond reach for any of us.

Recognise then, our own mortality, our failings, idiosyncracies, quirks, deficiencies physical and mental. Recognise and learn to laugh at such - and perhaps this exquisitely painful existence will be slightly less so.