No Regrets

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What do I really enjoy doing? Writing and Acting. Why don’t I do more of it? Because it’s hard and nobody’s paying me to do it.

How much time do I have left in this lifetime? Dunno, maybe fifteen or twenty years. Why don’t I spend that time writing and acting? Because it’s hard and nobody’s paying me to do it.

How absurd. People who work in hospice say that just before death, almost everyone tells whoever is within earshot (and it may just be a whisper) that they wish they had done what they really wanted to do with their life rather than what other people expected them to do. It’s a continual lament by concert pianists who ended up working in offices, oil painters who worked in department stores, poets who taught school.

I guess if ever there was a time to do the things I really want to do, it’s today.

“Waking up to who you are involves letting go of who you imagine yourself to be.” – Alan Watts


Do my desires make me happy? If not, why do I try so hard to satisfy them?

Just because I like bananas for breakfast doesn’t mean if I move to a banana republic I’ll be happier than where I am now. Right now in Iowa, there’s snow on the ground and it gets below zero at night. In such an environment, it would be normal to dream of a sunny beach, but such a beach isn’t guaranteed to change my mood in the long run, or for longer than it takes to take a swim and dry off. After all, it’s just a beach.

As I write this, I’m on a stretch of sand much greater than any beach. The weather is pleasant, but I’m not particularly happy at this moment. I’m restless and discontent. I’m in Dubai, and I keep thinking I ought to be somewhere else, somewhere I’ve never been before.

Far more important than quickly reacting whenever I get a hankering or an urge, would be to sit still long enough to process the emotion, and figure out if change is even called for. Maybe it isn’t. Maybe the best, if most difficult thing to do is nothing at all. Stay where I am. Deal with it.