Contentment Above Regret
Learning to embrace what's controllable right now.
I've been thinking about regrets. Not regrets I currently hold. But future regrets I live my life attempting to predict and avoid—to control. And about the power those predictions hold over my day-to-day contentment and well-being.
Regrets, whether incurred through my own shortcomings or placed upon me by another's, bring feelings of pain and heartbreak and disappointment—in myself or in a specific situation. They are reminders I've made inferior choices. Reminders of my lack of control.
Not fabulous feelings to experience . . . so regret is something I attempt to avoid.
After five decades, though, I'm finally recognizing that the future is more out of my control than I've been willing to admit, that avoiding all future regrets is impossible.
My latest revelation: In my efforts to control the uncontrollables, to predict my own future, I've missed out on a better and healthier present.
A recent experience that resulted from my attempts to avoid future regret caused mental overwhelm and left me with no available bandwidth to appreciate the situation. I was so focused on guaranteeing some unknown, upcoming path that I put myself in a miserable position and created some terrible memories.
Unfortunately, those bad memories are what I'll carry into my future. That's a vicious cycle of lose-lose situations where I all but guarantee bemoaning both today and tomorrow.
After much reflection, it became clear that focusing primarily on tomorrow causes me to lose sight of the best path in front of me, perhaps leading me down a path chosen for me rather than by me or down a path intended for someone else.
Tomorrow may or may not have regrets.
But paying attention to the present is probably the best way I can influence my contentment with tomorrow. By placing my focus on what is in my control right now, I can at least own that potential win. This seems like much better odds that at least one of the two will exist with more delight.
So I'm slowly learning to release tomorrow and focus instead on choosing the paths I'll take today. To continue striving to put my best self out into the world. To make a positive difference in my own little corner. To help my fellow humans . . . for the common good. Even when my efforts go unnoticed or underappreciated.
In Adventures in Opting Out, Cait Flanders suggests:
"Try not to hurt people along the way. Show up as yourself. Be honest. Be kind. Lend a hand. Lend your time. Ask questions. Learn. Focus on something or someone other than yourself."
And,
"If you screw up, . . . apologize or try to fix it!"
Just as important—and often minute by minute—I have to remind myself to allow others to go on their own paths rather than coerce them into caring about what I care about.
"There are so many different . . . paths we can take. I hope I get to the end of my life and can say I took hundreds of them." —Flanders, page 236
It'll be a tough habit to break, this feeling like I'm in control of how things will turn out. At the end of each day, though, I want to be content with what I've chosen to prioritize.
To remind myself: It's possible that what I've seen as regretful wasn't necessarily bad after all. Every decision, every new path, has helped make me who I am.
To ask myself: What good have I done today? Was today's path my best one? Were my decisions upright? Were my choices worthy of acceptance, even if others choose to reject them?
I'm curious about your thoughts on this.