I had a conversation with a friend some time ago. He studied law. He argues in a court and we were talking about justice in general. He was talking about the misconceptions generally people have about lawyers and in fact, I too have some hard-wired notions about lawyers which are pretty difficult to shake off. In the end, we hung up I guess on some serious conflict of beliefs, but somewhere in between the conversation he had said something really interesting.
There are only stories. Nothing is black and white, even if it appears so.
He probably meant something like justice sought to find out if there were indeed a moral imbalance between the two stories or not. But he definitely had much better sentences than me, so excuse the inadequacies.
Well, I do not know how to put it because pretty sentences are never my forte. But I do realise that I am this black-and-white person often. Often, I have judged myself or others believing strongly in something. Especially things that I hold myself responsible for; I have spent ages trying to get over the guilt and wounds believing them to be unforgivable crimes.
But for a moment now, I feel like I too, had a story, which I never listened to very well. I couldn't tell you my story, however. If I start talking about it, I may end up finding it utterly irrelevant which would make things worse for me. That's what words do to me. But I can tell you that I suddenly have the feeling of it, and the feeling of it right at this hour, after that brief conversation, gives me some permission to forgive myself.
I believe you, whoever you are, reading this right now, you too have a story.
Sometimes it is not just necessary to forgive someone else, as much as it is more to forgive yourself.
