Regret & Remorse

Regret: a sense of loss, disappointment, dissatisfaction, etc.

Remorse: deep and painful regret for wrongdoing; compunction.
             Compunction: a feeling of uneasiness or anxiety of the conscience caused by regret for doing wrong or causing pain; contrition; remorse.


Do you see the distinction in the two definititions above? 

Regret is pretty basic, pretty easy.  You wish you hadn't done that.  Maybe you even regret the consequence of your action and that's what prompts you to feel regret.  The thing you lost makes you feel regret, whereas maybe you don't think your actions were all that bad in the first place, but you realize if you hadn't done them you might not have lost something valuable.  Therefore you regret your action.  For example, I regret spilling that drink.  Why?  Because the tablecloth it spilled on was white.  If the tablecloth had been black, I wouldn't regret spilling.  I regret that I ruined something. 

Remorse has a lot more to do with empathy.  Remorse implies that you feel badly for causing another person pain.  Maybe you used careless words that you had no idea were offensive and hurtful.  You feel like a heel when you realize you hurt someone.  Maybe you acted selfishly or vengefully and though it felt good at the time (and felt justified), you now see the damage you caused.  We're talking about the difference between being sorry you got caught versus being sorry you did it.  

Regret wants (and frankly, expects) a quick fix, a band-aid solution.  It seeks to regain what it lost.  It's willing to make all sorts of claims and promises to restore things.  But there is no fundamental change on the part of the wrongdoer.  There is no true understanding of the pain they've caused another person.  And frankly, there's no desire to. 

If you've ever felt remorse, you can recognize it in another person.  When it looks like someone is half-assed apologizing, it's because they are.  When the wrongdoer's efforts at restitution are slow or shallow or only happen when it's ultra convenient for them, it reveals their superficial regret.  Sure they feel bad, but they're not willing to be inconvenienced, or to sacrifice anything to make things right.  When someone feels true remorse for hurting you, they will move heaven and earth to make it better for you.  Period.

The Jamaican Palm Reader

A few years ago I was in Jamaica on a company incentive reward trip.  After a few Red Stripes, I decided to visit a palm reader named Jana.  I’d seen a palm reader once about a decade prior, and later realized I had been far too open with her, volunteering small bits of info that she picked up on and used.  So I was determined to be as close-lipped as possible, only answering her questions with brevity.

When I first sat down Jana simply took my hand and immediately said, “You a little bit stubborn!”  I laughed, because anyone who knows me knows this to be true.  She asked for my date of birth, the time of day I was born, and my first name.  She told me some amazing things – that I was divorced and had 2 children, for instance.  She touched on some other things that very few people know about me.  She had my attention.

At one point she said, “You a little bit flirt.”  I said, “Maybe, but I’m a harmless flirt.  I’m fiercely loyal.”  She said, “It’s okay.  You not with the right man.  He cannot handle your independence and strength.  You keep flirting.”  She had nailed it.  I was already contemplating ending the relationship I was in, and knew that once I returned to The States, the end would be coming soon.  It was one of the best choices I’ve ever made in my life.

The last thing she told me was that 2011 would be a “big” year for me.  Something life-changing would happen: a marriage, a baby, a move, or a new job.  Since none of the other options seemed likely, I wondered most often about the possibility of marriage.  I found myself in a serious relationship in 2009 and my friends joked that the Jamaican palm reader had missed it by a year or so.  That relationship ended.  Then in December 2010, the man I was dating proposed to me.  We set a date for June 25, 2011.  The Jamaican palm reader had nailed it again.

Tomorrow is November 25, 2011, but it’s not going to be my 5 month wedding anniversary.  We did not marry, and we are no longer together.  It really hasn’t been a good year.  I don’t know that I believe in the power or abilities of palm readers and psychics.  I do find it fascinating and intriguing though.  A few months ago, I did start a new job.  It’s part-time, and in addition to my full-time job, so I didn’t change jobs.  But it is something “big” I did to take control of some things beyond my control that had impacted my finances.  I’m stubborn like that.  I won’t give up, even when the odds are stacked against me and life has dealt me a losing hand.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go flirt.

Blessed Beyond Measure

I've been posting on Facebook all month various things for which I am thankful.  When it comes to my parents, I think the FB character limit is insufficient, so they're just gonna get their own blog.

First of all, I'm blessed to have parents who wanted me and who took parenting seriously.  They made it their mission NOT to make things easy for me, but to teach about the satisfaction that comes with working hard for something and finally attaining it.  They said "no" a lot, which made the "yes" moments that much more meaningful.  When I see all these entitlement-minded people around me, I can't help but wonder if they had parents who said yes to most everything and made them full of expectation and entitlement.

They were strict and old-fashioned.  Sometimes I craved the "cool" parent who let their kid host a party or didn't care how late they were out, etc.  But my parents' approach most certainly spared me from many situations that were loaded to the brim with nothing but trouble.  They also taught me to respect authority and know my place.  They weren't seeking to be my friends.  No, that wasn't their role while they were rearing me.  Now that I am an adult and a parent, NOW they are my friends.

They have sat with me (literally) through some of the most difficult hours of my life - cancelling wedding plans, 30 hours of labor with my first child, obtaining a protection order, going through a divorce, losing a good friend, or sitting at a bank sorting out the financial mess someone created for me, etc.. 

We joke that Dad is there for the practical help and Mom is there for the comforting and listening.  I can remember calling them from grad school, frustrated to the point of tears about my ancient computer that wasn't even capable of doing footnotess, and there I was trying to write a thesis.  After I bemoaned the point to my Dad, he flippantly said, "well, you can cry about it if you want to, but I don't think it's going to do footnotes when you're done either."  My response: "Put MOM on the phone please!" because at that moment I needed what she is best at.  :)

We joke that when Dad passes away, the yard is going to look like shit, and when Mom passes away, there will be nothing but envelopes of money under the Christmas tree.  They each leave their mark on our family in their own ways.

As an adult, I look to them as my relationship compass.  I don't strive to mimic their relationship, because I don't think it would work for me.  But whenever I find myself in a moment of "am I over-exaggerating?"  or "is this acceptable behavior?", I simply ask myself if Dad would ever do that to Mom.  If the answer is no, I know it's not something I have to tolerate for myself.  I know that SOMEONE out there is making it work and is happy - 43 years later. 

They are the most amazing grandparents I ever could have imagined for my children.  I wasn't near my grandparents growing up, so it is the greatest thrill to see them interacting together so frequently.  I incorporate my parents into my kids' lives.  They receive phone calls when grade cards come, when teeth fall out, when the first laugh came, etc.  My dad who has often been called intimidating (just ask anyone who's dated me), melts like warm butter around those kids. 

Perhaps the best thing about them is this: they don't tell me what to do.  Ever.  And they don't judge what I do.  Ever.  I mean not to my face anyways.  They don't play the "I told you so" game.  They just make sure they are there for me when I make one, even if there is nothing that can be done to make it better.  They make it a rule not to interfere in my life.  And while they may not be able to be on board with all my decisions, they make it clear to me that their love for me is unwavering.  Always.  And I'm well aware that not every human being has parents like this.  I wish they did.  I think the world would be a better place.

Click

When you have been living in flux for a period of time, you become bogged down in indecision, mixed emotions, and conflicts of the heart and head.  It's somewhat paralyzing because you don't know if you're taking steps forward or backward.  You're sitting on the fence, rather than standing on the ground and putting down roots. 

But at some point, something will push you in one direction or another.  And when your feet finally hit the ground, you feel...free.

My life has gained so much clarity thanks to those "click" moments.  Well not so much a moment.  More of an extended period of reflection, observation, and analysis.  Clarity comes when it comes.  It can't be forced, rushed, or unduly influenced.  When you know, you know.  Wait for it.  Pray about it.  Surround yourself with uplifting people who have the qualities you admire and strive to have yourself.  Challenge yourself.  Ask the tough questions.  Allow yourself to feel.  Hear the hard truths.

I can pinpoint in mind the conversations, realizations, and observations that brought me to my most recent "click."  This has always been how it works for me.  I can remember debating my post-grad options as I was approaching graduation at Ohio State.  I had my pros and cons list.  I'd been marinating on the ramifications of each possible decision.  And then one day, as I walked across the stadium parking lot on a gorgeous spring day, it came to me.  Perhaps it was God's voice.  I can't be sure.  But I knew where I was going next (to grad school in Cincinnati).  I remember the exact moment I emerged from months of heart-wrenching deliberation and finally decided that divorce was what I wanted and needed.

These moments of clarity are blessings.  All of the ambiguity is gone.  You feel 100% confident and comfortable with your choice.  You feel energy, optimism, and renewal as you look at your future with new eyes. 

to accept the things I cannot change...

We've all heard The Serenity Prayer.  I've never seen the "extended" version, but here it is:

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.
Amen.

--Reinhold Niebuhr

Last night I heard someone in my single moms' group at church say that she was doing better because she had just accepted what her life would and would not be.  Simple, right?  Hardly.  She made it sound so simple.  Like "I know cigarettes are bad for me so I quit smoking."  But I know it's more conceptually simple than practically simple.  In other words, the implementation is the tricky part.

I immediately recalled the many times my Mom has advised me to accept certain things because they are not going to change.  Things that wreak havoc on my life, that tie me up in knots and upset me, that create stress, resentment, and other burdens.  I always hated that advice, because it seems unattainable.  How do I accept something that hurts, that doesn't make sense, that I can't understand?  I'm an analytical creature who has never been content to just know the answer, but instead needs to know how and why the answer is the answer.

In thinking through this, I realize how much time, energy, and emotion I have given to things that are beyond my control.  When considering the actions of others - I cannot control them.  And quite often I can't even understand them.  Because I'm not that person.  I don't think with their mind and their heart.  I don't employ the same logic or morals when making decisions.  So I'm judging them against my standards.

I want to learn to accept the things I cannot change.  Going back to The Serenity Prayer, the word "surrender" jumps out at me.  Giving over control to God is a difficult thing.  Plus, it's so intangible, because it's not as simple as literally letting God drive your car while you sit in the passenger seat.  The word "reasonable" jumps out as well.  Reasonably happy.  Adjusting our expectations and perhaps what we think we deserve in this life.  Realizing there will be disappointments, tragedies, confusion, obstacles, and injustice done to us and to those we love. 

People and circumstances are still going to disappointment me, as long as I have morals, standards, and expectations for humanity.  What I can hope to change is the way I react to these things.  To view things with more neutrality and less emotion perhaps, consenting to coexist with incomprehensible people with no desire to change them or adapt to them, but just to roam this earth in their presence while they do their thing and I do mine.  By the same token, I don't aim to resign myself and tolerate injustice, for instance. I'm not suggesting that we turn our heads or become silent.  I'm suggesting that I stop inviting turmoil into my head and heart by relentlessly trying to understand things that I cannot ever hope to understand.

On a personal level, when I am trying to think through things that others have done to me, I long to reach a level of evolvement where I can simply conclude that they made choices, I'm free to make mine in response, and it can't be undone or erased.  It can only be permitted to float down the stream of life along with every good and wonderful gift I receive.

As the current saying goes, "it is what it is."  Or as one of my favorite bands, Rush, sang in the 90s, 'Why are we here?  Because we're here.  Roll the bones.  Why does it happen?  Because it happens.  Roll the bones."

On Consignment

I signed a contract today, putting my never-worn wedding dress on consignment.  It felt so strange to be in a place where most people are overflowing with joy and anticipation, but instead, I focused on my feet so as not to see all the wedding portraits, bridal magazines, and other wedding artifacts.  It was all a brutal reminder of what did not happen in my life a few months ago. 

I managed to hold in the tears until I exited the establishment, but then they came.  Another surge of grief over the dreams I'd held so close that are not going to come true. 

Consignment.  Handing something over that is precious to me, with no guarantee I'll get anything in return for it.  Hoping that someone else will also see the value in it and compensate accordingly.  Seems ironic to me.  It's kind of what I did when I said yes to that marriage proposal.  I gave someone my heart, access to every dusty corner of my life, every skeleton in my closet, and gave unlimited access to all of the wonderful things I have to offer as a partner in life.  In return, I hoped those treasures would be deemed valuable and would be worth another person's investment. 

How did that turn out?  It depends who you ask I suppose, or which day you ask.  It didn't turn out like I hoped or planned.  At times I think that what I wanted was very simple: to be treated with love and respect.  To me, that covers every dealbreaking behavior I can fathom.  At other times I think I want something that is impossible to find.  But at the end of the day, if a value or offer is made in exchange for what I have on the table, and the two are not similar in value, then someone is losing.

Consignment is a bit of a gamble.  It could be that your valued item is returned to you, that no one wants to pay any price for it, that it is only beautiful to you.  Or maybe someone isn't willing to care for what's been entrusted to them in a way that is fair.  The good news in all of this is that you are free to keep whatever it is you put on the table.  I'd rather keep a beautiful dress in my closet and never wear it, than to be offered rotten worms or pickles or snot-encrusted tissues in return for it.  And as for my heart, I'd rather keep it, know its worth, and share it with those who value it, than to loan it out for a poor return on my investment.