A few weeks ago I had a lengthy discussion with a friend of mine about the regrets they’ve had in their life. It was a pretty deep discussion, one that I had trouble following as I am pretty much regretless.
I live a Frank Sinatra kind of life. If you recall the song, “My Way”, Frank crooned, “Regrets, I’ve had a few, but then again, too few to mention.”
As I search my often overflowing brain looking for regrets, I suppose I could indulge in a few if I really wanted to. I mean, I’ve led a pretty roller coaster existence over the years, one where my heart always trumps my brain when it comes time to roll the dice and see what comes up.
I’ve gone “all in” at the table many times. I’ve never really hit it big, at times I’ve lost everything, and yet, here I am, still making my way in this world.
For the most part, I’ve lived life on my terms. In fact, the only things I could really call regrets in my life were the result of letting others twist me in the wind, even though I knew that the particular course I was on wasn’t the right one for me.
Oh, I can hear some of my friends now. “You don’t regret marrying so and so?” “You don’t regret leaving the safety of corporate life for an unpredictable life as a writer?” “You don’t regret that you let your marriages fall apart when it affected the children?” “You don’t regret moving from the promised land to Florida?
Well, the answer is a resounding NO!
Regrets are funny things. They lull us into feeling bad about something we did at any period of time, but after the fact. Because we are cursed with hindsight, we can now look at all the objective facts laid out on the table that would have told us something was a bad idea to begin with.
But we didn’t have that information when we did what we did. We did the best with the information we had at the time. And probably a lot of it was subjective, not objective.
Case in point. I have had my hands in someone else’s cookie jar on several occasions. I am a “feeler.” I feel emotions very deeply and being loved is a huge thing for me. It is a guiding star in my life.
Judge me if you want. But I have a thing about being happy. I can live in any relationship for a time that is unhappy, largely because I still believe it can be turned around at some point. But once I realize it ain’t going to happen, or my dire warnings that something is wrong in our relationship goes unheeded by my significant other, I am going to err on the side of being happy.
I really don’t get why people spend large parts of their life doing anything but trying to be happy.
Does that sound selfish? Perhaps to some. But I have been unhappy in my life. Woefully unhappy. The kind of unhappy where you don’t even want to open your eyes in the morning, let alone get out of bed. The kind of unhappy where you just wished that during the night you were taken out of this world. Not a pleasant place to be by any stretch.
It was during these points of true unhappiness that I could have done one of three things. I could simply suck it up and kid myself that this was what my life was meant to be; I could talk myself into believing I was doing the noble thing, sacrificing my happiness for others (spouse, children, friends, family, etc.); or I could admit that I was in the wrong place in my life because I believe that God wants us to find happiness, even if it means taking the difficult road and changing our life completely.
I can hear some of you saying to yourselves, “But what gives you the right to be happy at all costs? Your actions can cause others unhappiness!”
Oh, that’s a good one, isn’t it? Well, I used to think that. And what I discovered is that if I’m not happy, no one else around me will be happy, so in essence, I am causing unhappiness either way. Not being happy is a negative force that feeds on itself and spreads to others. I had learned this early on, but I didn’t really grasp it until about six months ago. Catholic guilt kept getting in the way. The old “we’re not worthy of true happiness in our lives, that life is meant to be filled with sacrifice” sales job.
Then I learned a very freeing thing. No one can control the happiness of others. You can argue with me until you’re blue in the face that you can control another’s happiness. And perhaps you can artificially for a time. But eventually it sucks the life out of you and you come to resent the other person because you are giving up everything you wanted in life just so they can be happy.
I think God wants us all to the happy. That doesn’t mean we’re supposed to piss on other people’s tree intentionally and spread misery. But sometimes what would make them happy won’t make me happy (and I am talking about long term, not in the moment) and I just can’t give up my own happiness any longer. Been there, done that and getting too old for the inevitable dead ends.
And while some would say that this is the chicken’s way through life, putting your happiness ahead of the happiness of others, I say it’s the most courageous thing you could ever do.
It’s so easy to simply wither on the vine, blaming others for your unhappy life. It is the path of least resistance. the easy way out. To live a life where you are truly happy takes a lot of work. It often takes a lot of sacrifice. And it requires tremendous leaps of faith, including times when you simply have to step off the edge and into the unknown, believing that something or someone is going to catch you before you hit rock bottom.
I have always believed that when my final day comes and I arrive at the Pearly Gates, God is going to ask me one question: “Did you enjoy the life I gave you?”
I want to answer an enthusiastic, “You bet I did!”
Of course, I run the risk of him telling me that I enjoyed it a little too much, and that I should catch the next Down Elevator. That’s fine with me. I would much rather spend eternity in Hell than spend a single day of being in Hell right here on earth, living the life unhappy.
Out on the Treasure Coast, looking out on a world paved with regrets,
– Robb