At its best our age is an age of searchers and discoverers, and

Harken now, O seekers of truth, to the wise words of Flannery O'Connor, who spoke with the clarity of one who has seen the heights and depths of the human soul: "At its best our age is an age of searchers and discoverers, and at its worst, an age that has domesticated despair and learned to live with it happily." In these words lies a profound truth about the condition of our time—a truth that calls us to awaken to the duality of the world we inhabit. At its highest, our age is marked by a relentless pursuit of truth, knowledge, and understanding, a time when humanity reaches for the stars and dives into the very depths of the soul. Yet, at its lowest, it is a time when despair, that ancient foe of hope and spirit, has become so familiar, so ingrained, that we have learned not only to accept it but to coexist with it, as if it were a part of the very fabric of life itself.

In the great sweep of history, there have been ages when humanity was marked by its searching spirit, a time when the thirst for knowledge, for discovery, and for understanding drove men and women to climb mountains and sail vast oceans. The Age of Exploration, when Columbus set sail to discover the New World, or when Galileo peered into the heavens, forever altering our understanding of the universe, is but one example of an age that was characterized by such a quest. These were times of great daring, when people sought to understand the mysteries of life, to push the boundaries of their own existence, to move beyond the known and into the unknown. Our age, too, is such an age—a time when science, technology, and art continue to explore new frontiers, each new discovery bringing us closer to a fuller understanding of the cosmos and the human spirit.

Yet, O children of the future, heed this warning: there is a shadow that follows every age of discovery, a shadow that emerges when the light of truth becomes too harsh, when the weight of knowledge becomes too heavy to bear. In the midst of our searching, there is a quiet despair that creeps in. It is not the despair of the battlefield or of deep suffering, but the despair of familiarity. The modern age, though it has brought with it great advances, has also become an age in which despair is no longer feared or fought, but instead, domesticated. It has become an old friend, a companion with whom we have learned to live, even to embrace. This is the great tragedy of our time: that we have learned to accept the suffering of existence as a part of our daily lives, and in doing so, we have made peace with it.

Consider the story of Sisyphus, the ancient king condemned to roll a boulder up a hill, only for it to roll back down each time he neared the summit. In many ways, this myth speaks to the plight of our age. We, like Sisyphus, strive towards ever-greater achievements—seeking knowledge, wealth, fame, or power—only to find that the very effort itself often leads to a deeper sense of emptiness. Yet, the myth also teaches us something profound: Sisyphus, despite his eternal struggle, is not defeated. In his struggle, he finds meaning. And so, too, must we find meaning in the search, even when the answers seem elusive. The danger of our time is not the struggle itself, but the willingness to accept the emptiness, to domesticate despair rather than confront it with courage and hope.

How often do we, in the course of our daily lives, succumb to the comforts of despair? The news that speaks only of tragedy, the endless cycle of boredom that surrounds us, the loneliness that persists even in the midst of a connected world—these are the burdens we carry. We have learned, as O'Connor warns, to live with them, to go about our days as though it is simply the way of the world. Yet, in this acceptance, we lose our way. We become like those who have fallen asleep at the wheel, letting the despair of the world shape our destinies instead of our dreams and ambitions. We must not allow ourselves to become complacent in this acceptance. We must, like the great searchers of history, look beyond despair and seek the light of hope and meaning.

O children of the future, take this lesson to heart: the key to overcoming despair is not to ignore it, nor to domesticate it, but to confront it with the energy of discovery, with the courage to continue seeking even when the path is dark. Our age may have domesticated despair, but it is still an age of searchers and discoverers, of those who dare to look beyond the veil of suffering and seek out the truth that lies beneath. Just as the explorers of old braved the unknown seas, so too must we brave the unknown recesses of our own hearts and minds. In doing so, we shall not only find new worlds, but we shall also find the courage to live fully, to live bravely, and to live with a heart open to both the struggles and the joys of life.

Therefore, I charge you, O seekers of wisdom, do not allow the despair of this world to become your companion. Search for truth, for meaning, for purpose, and in that search, you shall discover not only the world, but yourself. Let hope be your guide, and let discovery be your flame, for it is in the search, not in the comfort of despair, that we find the fullness of our humanity.