The Trial

Injury after injury and a series of doctor appointments have taken a toll on me. Breaking consistency ever so slightly, I've altered my exercise, meditation, and sleep/wake-up routine. Consequently, my dopamine levels are lower.

As I prepared my morning coffee, a wave of guilt washed over me. How could I have sabotaged something I wanted to work out? In an instant, memories of my wrongdoings haunted me, even if just for a brief moment. I had to remind myself that I wasn't entirely at fault. Yet, for that fleeting minute, I felt the weight of guilt and anger towards myself. There's nothing I can do now; it's all in the past. Acknowledging the complexity of the situation, I realised it wasn't solely my fault. Probably. As I write this, I'm not 100% sure; statistically speaking, there must be more to it — it takes two to tango, right?

Swiftly, I recovered by recalling all the reasons why it just wasn't a good fit. While making coffee, those reasons didn't matter much, but in the shower, they made more sense. I found myself engaging in a mental trial, arguing back and forth like a prosecutor and defendant within my own thoughts.

Eventually, I understood that this internal chatter was unnecessary and a wasteful use of the present moment. The shower felt good on my skin. I didn't need to find a solution, to convict or set free the perpetrator/defendant. I could learn to coexist with both narratives. It's essential to do so to maintain my sanity. I'll make an effort not to overanalyse and seek answers to questions that may have none or, even if they do, are not useful right now. We live in the now.

I've learned a lot, and I'm certain of that. I feel remorse for many of my wrongdoings that led to what happened. I can live with that. I can coexist with both sadness and happiness. Just like the sun and the moon, the guilty and the innocent can also coexist.