This is the season when nostalgia can easily trigger the sensation of regret. Regretting can be complicated, for sure. The inner critic sometimes makes it into a story about what’s wrong with us or how foolish we are. It will use regret as proof that we’re not good enough. It might be helpful to separate the workings of the inner critic from the voice of regret—pull them apart, so to speak.
For me, the inner critic voices the criticisms and judgments we received in the past and uses them to try and prevent us from breaking social or familiar rules now or possibly in the future. (Curious about this? Let me know.)
The voice of regret, on the other hand, arises when something takes place that we wish had happened differently. Maybe we believed in a story about a person, and said or did something based on that belief, only to learn later the story wasn’t accurate at all. It also could be a situation in which we didn’t know what to say or how to do something differently than what we did, and it went badly. Or perhaps we did or said something that wasn’t in alignment with our integrity.
When we sit with this a bit it might be easier to see that there is more to the situation than what happened. There is also what we felt and needed in that moment; or what we simply couldn’t see or know at the time. If I can bring understanding into the whole picture, it may not erase my feeling of regret but, in my experience, it does soften it.
It helps me to remember this quote from George Saunders: “Kindness is the only non-delusional response to the human condition.” I am human, after all. I can’t always know the “right” response. Sometimes I make up stories about others. And sometimes I don’t have it in me to do the “right” thing. This, I think, is true for all of us. Saunders’ words remind me that even in those moments when I wish I had done things differently, I can still embrace my human condition with kindness.
Here is my example of regret: When I was 24, my mom was in the hospital, and she was very ill. She asked me if I would pray with her. I couldn't. I was so afraid. She later fell into a coma and did not come back.
In time I could see how overwhelmed and frightened I was—I just didn't have the capacity to pray. When I look back and see myself as this young woman at her bedside, lost and helpless, my heart still reaches out to her with understanding and love. This softens the guilt I feel for not being who she needed me to be then.
If you find yourself wandering down this road you might pause to notice what is below the surface of things; what feelings were with you at the time, and what unmet needs of yours were underneath your words or actions. Gently invite yourself to understand the whole situation, perhaps permit yourself to be less than perfect. See if you can hold this situation softly with kindness. And when regret arises for me, I will try to do the same. 💗
~ Denise
