Regret
If we could’ve done things differently, then why didn’t we?
In one question, this is the fundamental problem of regret. Regret is the manifestation of our implicit belief in the concept of free will. It can only exist if we delude ourselves into believing that we can somehow alter the course of the universe and the incomprehensible spontaneity of our circumstances; our minds insist that somehow we can, in the fleeting moment of making a mistake, whimsically change our train of thought and our course of action, as if touched by a muse.
Many people regret not spending enough time with their loved ones before they passed away, devoting excessive time and energy to work and forgetting what actually matters in their lives, committing themselves to a relationship with the wrong type of person, or choosing the wrong career path. But life is complex, and the torrent of circumstances that barrage our lives is unfathomable. Life is far from being black and white, far from being the straightforward cause-and-effect that we’d like it to be.
“I again saw under the sun that the race is not to the swift and the battle is not to the warriors, and neither is bread to the wise nor wealth to the discerning, nor favor to the skillful; for time and chance overtake them all.”
— Ecclesiastes 9:11
It is impossible to know what would’ve happened if you made the “right” decision instead of the “wrong” one in a given instance of regret. Just because we made a “good” decision doesn’t guarantee any “good” outcome. Our definitions of “right,” “wrong,” “good,” or “bad” are nonsensical in this context because we cannot even begin to fathom the potential butterfly effect it may precipitate—the cascading consequences of our decisions within these alternate universes. So if the past is past, and there’s nothing we can do to change it, why do we have such a powerful inclination to ruminate upon it, deluding ourselves in the process?
Because in the end, it’s not about the event. It’s not about changing the past or thinking that things really might’ve turned out better. The act of regret is fundamentally about the person you choose to be. Our brains use regret as a psychological tool to derive insight from retrospect. We trick ourselves into this futile strife against the seemingly inalterable course of the universe because, for many of us, it has the power to convert the emotional energy of embarrassment, shame, anger, or frustration into a compelling and unwavering desire to make our circumstances just a little more favorable for us in this inhospitable world. It is to learn from trial and tribulation, from trauma and from tragedy, to cherish the loved ones in our lives while they’re still around, to ask ourselves the important questions of life before the luxuries of time and energy expire, to be mindful of the people we choose to walk alongside and the decisions that we make.
Choose to live a life with regret, or choose to live life without it. In the grand scheme of things, I would argue that it doesn’t matter. The necessity of this emotional rumination ultimately depends on the individual, and it will come intuitively to you. What does matter is that we learn from our mistakes. What matters is that we can look back upon the past with the momentum of forward motion, as a means to propel ourselves forward in this world, day by day becoming more of a person we can be proud to be. But the act of rumination in the absence of forward motion—as a means of self-pity, as a meaningless diversion from the work we need to do, as an excuse to hide or to give up—is nothing but another trap and another pitfall that too many of us fall into.
