Regret occurs in our lives when the consequences of “bad” choices we make slam into the ideal we have of ourselves as good people.
Three recent examples from my life:
• I did not complete a written contract for a project several months ago before undertaking the work. That oversight led to a number of misunderstandings and miscommunications that have bogged down the project, wasted an inordinate amount of time, and potentially exacted a huge toll on the working relationships.
• I loaned money to a buddy to try to help him get out of a financial bind only to learn that he’s used the resources to dig a deeper hole of debt to climb out of rather than use good judgment to get out of the mid-sized hole he was in when he came to me.
• I did not move fast enough when an elderly family member was taken advantage of regarding her health care and finances. Had I moved more quickly and decisively, I believe I could have prevented a legal and personal quagmire that has lasted three years to date.
Although I consider myself fairly reasoned and intelligent, in each situation, I allowed urgency to over-shadow my better judgment. I was caught up in the busyness of too many commitments, and simply tried to make an important decision without the clarity of quiet separation from the critical issue at hand.
Because I see myself as thoughtful and deliberate, each of these oversights was like a kick in my stomach and something I greatly regretted doing. But each instance has also taught me a huge lesson in discernment.
What I am learning is that the bridge needed to cross the chasm that separates regret from wisdom is built with personal forgiveness and grace. In none of the situations did I intend to do something wrong.
By moving away from regret and towards understanding, I spend less unproductive time wallowing in shame and more constructive energy producing work that can have an impact for other people. Wallowing in regret and shame drains my heart of the willingness to risk again, if I let it.
If you do anything of any substance, that has any chance of making a difference in people’s lives, you’re going to face failure. And when you do, regret is going to raise its nasty head. I’ve yet to learn how to decapitate and leave it for dead. But I am learning to not sit down with it and let it devour me. I’m learning to build that bridge and move to greater wisdom.
In my work with clients, I frequently hear mistakes and regrets pop up in our discussions. The fear of making errors shuts them off to possibilities. I try to use those conversations as a sounding board to hear my own angst and address it. Because often we can’t recognize our fears until they’re revealed in the lives around us.
How about you? What are your regrets? How are they holding your story hostage?
Charles