Regrets

Sippican shared a video wherein passers by were asked their single greatest regret in life. Some of the answers seem honest; others, filtered to a level of banality appropriate for strangers. Several claim no regrets. To have no regrets is to have no memory or else no imagination.

I have closets full of regret, all shapes and sizes. Cluttered, overstuffed closets, and sometimes a regret falls out unexpectedly and I have to deal with a bit. Chuck it in and hold the door closed, maybe. I have no idea which regret is the biggest and can’t imagine hauling them all out and lining them up by size.

It’s an interesting question, though. Good for pondering. Instinctively I shift from “what is my biggest great” to “what is the greatest possible regret.” After all, I could always surpass today’s milestone, couldn’t I? But my imagination always wins. I cannot imagine regretting something so much that it was literally impossible to regret anything further.

This all seems very morose, perhaps, and a poor way of thinking. There’s lots of “to thine own self be true” regret-avoidance advice floating around out there. Most of it comes blowing off the colored tatters people have papered all over themselves, intent on becoming lost in the confusion of flying colors so that they will never see the hollow outline of their lives.

I do not know what my greatest regret is. But I know my greatest hope: all the dark matter in my universe is the unlit side of a moon turning toward the sun.