Johannes Oei

  The Last Second of Peace: A Journey Through the Dark Night**     I remember the moment the stroke struck me—the last second before darkness swallowed me whole. In that fleeting instant, I felt an unexpected peace, a serenity so profound it was almost intoxicating. It was like the slow, hazy warmth of alcohol, that golden sliver of time just before the world spins away and consciousness collapses.     Then—nothing.     When I awoke days later, my left side no longer obeyed me. At first, denial cushioned the blow. *Maybe tomorrow,* I told myself, *maybe if I try harder.* But reality was merciless. My body had betrayed me, and with it, my mind unraveled. Logic frayed; panic took its place.     For six months, I clung to hope—surely, healing would come. But as time bled on, doubt seeped in like a stain. Guilt, heavy and unrelenting, dragged me under. Every past mistake rose like ghosts, whispering that I deserved this suffering....

  Holding on to anger and resentment is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to suffer. It is a slow, painful burden—one that weighs down the heart, clouds the mind, and traps us in a cycle of suffering. As Stephen Hayes, one of the founders of Acceptance and Commitment Therapy, profoundly observed:     *“Unforgiveness is like being on a giant hook. Next to you on the hook is the person who has hurt you. The hook is extremely painful. Wherever you go, so does the hook and so does the offender. The only way you can get off the hook is if you allow the offender off first. The cost of not allowing the offender off the hook is, perhaps, a lifetime of unhappiness.”*     These words paint a vivid picture of the prison we create for ourselves when we refuse to forgive. The truth is, the person who hurt us may have moved on, may have forgotten, or may never even realize the depth of our pain. Yet there we remain—chained to the past, reliving the w...