The Coin Has Spoken

Coins don’t speak, we do. It is the moment when the coin hangs momentarily at it’s crest that we decide. It is not until then that we know. When you flip a coin, you don’t abide by its fall, you flip it again until it matches what you have chosen. Perhaps you should think why it is that you want to shift the burden of this decision off of yourself and onto an object that cannot choose. The coin is merely a scapegoat that we slough our burden of choice unto. If the burden is that heavy, perhaps the right choice is to not choose. Perhaps the right choice is to wait until the other side of that coin holds the same allure within your heart. Your pain has weighted the coin against life. It can’t be fair until the coin is equally balanced towards future. Nobody wants to die, we just want the pain to end. The thing nobody wants to believe is that pain is not a burden we must bear alone. Children’s games can exemplify this: light as a feather, stiff as a board. A burden may break the back of one, but becomes ever lighter as well place our trust with others. As they share our weight, we share theirs, and it becomes ever easier.