I was tempted very strongly to wallow in regret,
To dwell on my past stupidities and bad choices,
I may be sorry for my sins, but I don’t need to swim in contrition.
Until I realized that by looking backwards,
I will trip and fall moving forwards.
When I did entertain the idea of regret,
I realized that I was looking at the portrait of a person who resembled me
But was not me.
Regret looks at a portrait painted by colors that have faded.
I survived the things that I could regret,
And they were an inoculation against repeating them.
Regret is unreliable.
Honest as one may be, our memories edit themselves.
So many of the things I regret are the strokes,
That paint my portrait of today.
I regret when I hurt people or made a bad choice,
And I regret lost opportunities,
But does not give me license to close my heart,
To new people on my path
Or open my eyes to new possibilities.
Regret is weaponized guilt.
Regret is theft.
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