308

Consider the most resilient human beings that we know—those that seem capable of weathering any storm in this life, those that remain steadfast and uphold courage where others might fear.

And consider those among us that have fallen—those among us that have fallen into depression yet never found their way out, or worse, those among us that have taken their own lives, if only to stop the torment.

In their lowest moments—moments of utmost desperation, of acute pain and suffering, of seemingly unending misery and grief—there is little that distinguishes those of the latter from those of the former. The desire to succumb, to give up and completely detach from this world, whether in depression or through suicide, and the will to become exceptionally resilient are both achieved by experiencing the same thing.

The only difference? A glimmer of hope, a fragment of lost grace—something intangible, something gifted to us that we never realized was a gift, that pushes us ever so slightly to carry on another day, to put the past behind, to find the untapped power within our souls, to search for a better truth, and a better life. And to bestow that glimmer of hope, to endow that fragment of lost grace to someone in need of it—this is at the very heart of what it means to be compassionate in this world.

It is the only difference between a life lived, and a life lost.