Regrets

"Regrets, I've had a few,

But then again, too few to mention"

Frank Sinatra's signature song, My Way, applauds a life lived with few regrets. That kind of life, the lyrics tell us, may sometimes produce failure or loss, but it is faithful to who we are.  It's a song of strength, forthrightness and pride in following one's own path, not someone else's.

I like to think I've lived that kind of life, but I have regrets, and not just a few.  Though I'm not happy about what led to them, they have proved useful.  My regrets are not detours from "my way" but paving stones for it.  They have shaped me.  They may be signs that I've failed to be my best self, but they are also signals about who that self should be.

I certainly regret some things I have said and done to others. They deserved better, and I should have been better.  I also regret some things I have not said and not done when I should and could have.  I love my work, but I regret the opportunities I missed because sometimes it consumed too much of me and at times left too little for those I love.  As former Senator Paul Tsongas once put it: "No one on his deathbed ever said, I wish I had spent more time on my business." 

I regret assuming there would always be a tomorrow, another chance to do something or enjoy life rather than put it off.  I have been fortunate that thus far there have been tomorrows, but I now see the hubris in that.  For so many, there were no tomorrows, no chance to do things or do them over, to live the life they wished to live.  I also regret the time spent worrying about things that might happen, because most never did and because every moment spent in anxiety is one taken from truly living. 

I regret not having more faith in myself, because that lack of self-confidence put things out of reach that were possible for me.  I regret even more the times I did not support others enough, for that is one of the surest signs of love. Withholding the gift of confidence and trust, which can enrich others' lives, can too easily contribute to a pathway of their own regrets. 

I regret the apologies I did not offer.  An apology, if sincere and followed by corrective acts, offers relief for those who deserve it.  Regret is useful when it offers a road to redemption, when it leads to what you can do now, not just a reminder of what can't be undone.  More importantly, acts of redemption provide others the chance to let go of their disappointment and anger.  Those are burdens often hard to set down.

I think that if I had no regrets, I would have lived life too much on the surface.  Life inevitably produces conflicts among the choices that storm the heart.  None of us can choose wisely all the time.  If I think I have, I have failed to probe the depths of my own humanity.  Of course, if I can acknowledge my regrets, I don't get to live life over.  But I do get the chance to live it better.

If I had no regrets, how could I have ever learned?  “We have two lives," Bernard Malamud wrote in The Natural, "the life we learn with and the life we live after that." Or, as a wag once put it, "Good judgment comes from experience, and experience comes from bad judgment."

Regrets also can be a source of our own healing.  The word regret comes in part from the Old English grætan "to weep," signaling the mind's distress.  But when the mind is burdened, so is the body, for mental pain has physical effects - stress, depression, and illness if we carry those burdens for too long.   Acknowledging a regret can be the first step not just to comforting others but to healing ourselves.  It can help expose the scars of living so that the air of a fresher life can help them fade.

Living a life with no regrets is a laudable but unreachable goal.  Those who claim they have no regrets may satisfy their ego but at the expense of their character.  Character is formed by acknowledging bad choices in search of good habits.  It is the product of occasionally looking in the rear view mirror so that we may more clearly navigate the path ahead.  "Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards," Kierkegaard put it.  Without regrets, we can live our lives, but we can't understand them.   

Photo Credit: Nathan Damiao