A Lesson of Regret

Abundance

I think what I’ve found to be the most difficult part of writing this post is that, for it to ring true, I have to confess something difficult. I can’t figure out a way around this, so I’m simply going to say it: Staying alive is a brutal, singular task for some, and I am someone who struggles with it.

I know I have a reputation for positivity, but do hear me now. I am often persuaded in thinking that life is more bad than good (forgive the simplicity). That said, I want to live; I want that persuasion to be wrong. I know life has been beautiful. I’ve seen it, but I struggle keeping that vision.

(Even now, after “simply saying it,” I know I’m not articulating this right. Again, forgive me.)

But I had to tell you that to tell you this.

I have been dismantled by abundance.

Regret, as a type of study, surprised me. It appears in a variety of forms; namely, in a feeling of “missing out.” I learned it by accident while researching work on “life design” and ethics.

Read this:

“There is consolation in the fact that missing out is an inexorable side effect of the richness of human life. It reflects something wonderful: that there is so much to love and that it is so various that one history could not encompass it all” (Midlife: A Philosophical Guide by Kieran Setiya*).

This quote single-handedly changed things for me. I can’t deny this quote’s truth. Regret, in the form of missing out, is inevitable and promised, and so is its lesson: regret is evidence that life is so full of good, beautiful things that a lifetime is not enough to experience them all.

More soon,

Trevor

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