Unleashing the 8-Gram Curse

Eight grams. That's about what suits you. This is a story about how I learned to forgive myself.

Today, I measure out eight grams again. I consume a limited amount, eight grams at a time. How long have I been doing this? At some point, I suddenly wonder: why did I decide on eight grams in the first place?

My memory is no longer clear. But I am certain that I had a feeling of wastefulness. After all, the difference from ten grams is two grams. If you have two grams over four days, that's eight grams, which makes one full day's worth.

And yes, ten grams. When I use it at home, I don't think it's wasteful, so I use ten grams. Why is it ten grams at home, but eight grams when I take it with me?

I don't think there was a rational reason. Wasn't I just mindlessly sticking to what I had decided at the beginning out of habit? I am gradually becoming conscious of that fact.

People sometimes try to faithfully keep to things they just decided on a whim at the start. To put it bluntly, you might call it a curse. But by realizing there is no reason for it, one becomes liberated from that curse.

Gradually, I became able to forgive myself even if I exceeded eight grams. Sometimes it was 8.2 grams. The next day, 8.4 grams. Sometimes I would go back to eight grams, but after that, there were times it would become nine grams.

And now.
There are times I head out with 9.6 grams of beans. I don't exceed ten grams, but I have started taking beans that approach ten grams.

Ten grams a day—this, too, might actually be a spell. But this is fine. It is the 10 grams used for a single cup, the result of finding a compromise with the spirit of not being wasteful. There is a precise reason for this.

Whether at home or at the office I bring it to, I now consume the same amount of beans to brew my coffee. I let my consciousness be captured for a moment by the cup born from those 10 grams, and then, I set myself to work.