Sunday, February 28, 2010

Regretfully yours

A relative who is dear to me told me about an unexpected and rich conversation where he and his friend, both 60ish, talked with frankness and mutual trust, about their regrets. Something lit up in me to hear that these two had visited a place that is so often confined to dark corners. If only I hadn't ... I wish that had been different... Post-modernism, new age impulses - the philosophies that infiltrate our thinking - don't come with much permission for this particular take on our own lives. And so it remains un-named - grist for the mill of our unconscious, emerging in dream shape, or in the confines of the therapy room, where it can be wrapped up, corners tucked, before we re-enter the 'real' world. Why is this such hot-tin-roof territory? Where the temptation is to reassure, rescue, placate, and blow on our own and each other's paws. If we allow ourselves and others to feel the heat, is that not the place where transformation can take place - with its concomitant gifts of peace and acceptance? Regret is worthy of its name. It asks for a place in our lives. More than this, I think it is our access door to our own pain - that fire that ultimately purifies and re-connects, rather than the one that destroys. Are we - am I - trusting enough to expand our conversation with ourselves - and others if we are so fortunate - into realms that say of regret: yes, I do.

13 comments:

  1. It is a puzzle that we shy away from talk of our regrets. Perhaps it has something to do with shame and our feelings of inadequacy when faced with recognition of things we would have preferred to have done differently. Regrets tend to be associated with our own past conduct. Thanks for this most thoughtful post.

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  2. Ditto what Elisabeth said.

    This last year, I deeply regretted something I'd done to one of my sisters, and over the Christmas holiday, I wrote her a long letter of apology. She responded with love and acceptance.

    Thanks for bringing light to this subject!

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  3. Someone said to me years ago, "Have no regrets", and at the time I thought it a fairly wise statement. However, like you, I now have my doubts about 'no regrets'. I think we must learn from our regrets and then learn to accept them for what they are, after all they don't come alone, there are always the silver linings and positives that have occurred as well. Thanks for the wise words!

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  4. Thanks for your comment Elizabeth. You're right - regret is usually about what we ourselves have done, or in fact not done. I'm curious about that shying away process. As you say, those associated feelings are difficult ones to have seen by others - or by ourselves. I wonder if they grow from being so hidden...


    Thanks for sharing your experience with your sister T Clear, Your story is a reminder of our (my) capacity for rupture, and reconciliation with those people who really matter in our lives. Maybe regret is the first step. I appreciate your post.


    Hi Kay, I can so relate to that persective from my own past. I'm wanting to stretch out my woolly jersey a bit these days, make room for the lumpy bits. As you say, when we accept them for what they are, something more whole is able to emerge. Afterthought: is healing / that silver lining always possible to find, I wonder?

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  5. Hmm, this made me ponder, thanks Pam. I can't think of anything I regret for my own sake. The 'own sake' has a way of wrestling redemptive solutions from the messes or mis-takes. But there are ways in which I've neglected, or hurt or even damaged others — and I'm not sure the regret for those can ever be expunged. Kept on a low shelf, perhaps, and occasionally taken off for another attempt at (self-)reconciliation.

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  6. Yes - the low shelf stuff. Seems to come into view when we're on our knees (prayer or contrition?) or have fallen over. Is that the next step: forgiveness - A grace we give back to ourselves.

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  8. Thoughtful and thought-provoking. Tough territory to visit though. Well done for raising it.

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  9. Dear Map - thank you for this provocative (in the best sense) and thoughtful post.

    I find myself wanting to suggest that regret that leads to recrimination, revenge, or rebellion be considered A Troublemaker, where regret that leads to reflection, reconciliation and restoration be welcomed as Wise Counsel.

    L, C xx

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  10. Thanks JB.

    Hi Clarab, I'm intrigued by that idea that regret could lead to provocation. I hadn't thought of it in those terms. I suppose I have seen the 'trouble' side of regret as the pool of self-recrimination - the fear there could be a bottomless well if we venture in. What I'm enjoying is the sense that there's gold in dem dar hills - in that tough territory, as John has called it. px

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  11. Hi PamM - JB's word 'tough' is a much better one than my choice, 'provocative'. I guess what I'm trying to say is that regret that's denied can be meddlesome, as much as regret that keeps us attached and therein, trapped.

    Either way, I wholeheartedly agree that there's gold in dem dar hills.

    Tramping through tough territory takes tenacity but almost always yields rich rewards.

    L, C xx

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  12. Hi CB, Oh yes, I get that. It's almost reassuring - that the bits denied don't leave us alone. And that meddlesome poke can be what gets us into our tramping boots. PMx

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  13. My dear Map - I love the idea of the 'meddlesome poke' being the very thing that gets us into our tramping boots! Thank you.

    I have nominated you for a Sunshine Award --- please visit my blog for details. XXX

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