I was looking through an old HS yearbook this evening, and one of the parts of the famous "Senior Survey" is the Q&A. It's like a printed mini-blog for every senior that chooses to contribute. My favorite question to read is always the "biggest regrets" section. Why, you ask?
It's simple: Show me a person who claims to have NO regrets in their life, and I'll show you a liar. It's impossible to be 100% okay with everything you've ever done, and keep that same perspective going forward into the unseen future. Perhaps this is indicative of my inner cynic, but COME ON PEOPLE. Of course there are regrets, and as we all know, identifying the problem is the first step towards recovery.
I regret never becoming a ballerina. Granted, I would be the world's shortest, most manly looking ballerina (given my genetic build and body proportions) but damn it, I'd be happy. Those readers that know me well know that I sublimated this need into other equally challenging forms of dance, but the one thing that will irk me until my dying day is that I never became a ballerina.
What happens to all the kids who say, "When I grow up, I want to be a ...."? Where are all the firemen, policemen, nurses, and astronauts? Are we REALLY TRULY doing what we always thought we would? When playing pretend as a child, I sure as hell don't remember ever wanting to dress up as a Customer Service Representative. Don't get me wrong, I like my job a lot. I do. But what happened to the simple dream? Where did it go? Is it hiding somewhere in my brain, waiting to rear it's ugly head when I'm 45 and longing for the days when I could do the splits?
Furthermore, if given the opportunity to follow a simple dream like this, what is it about the complexity of adulthood that prevents us from single-mindedly following the dream into fruition? Obligations to others, or perhaps children? When did we all stop paying attention to what we really want, and start doing everything for other people? I'm not even 26 yet, and I'm already regretting things in my life that I didn't do. What do we do when our childhood dreams become a memory, instead of an opportunity, and what happens next?
What do you regret?
It's simple: Show me a person who claims to have NO regrets in their life, and I'll show you a liar. It's impossible to be 100% okay with everything you've ever done, and keep that same perspective going forward into the unseen future. Perhaps this is indicative of my inner cynic, but COME ON PEOPLE. Of course there are regrets, and as we all know, identifying the problem is the first step towards recovery.
I regret never becoming a ballerina. Granted, I would be the world's shortest, most manly looking ballerina (given my genetic build and body proportions) but damn it, I'd be happy. Those readers that know me well know that I sublimated this need into other equally challenging forms of dance, but the one thing that will irk me until my dying day is that I never became a ballerina.
What happens to all the kids who say, "When I grow up, I want to be a ...."? Where are all the firemen, policemen, nurses, and astronauts? Are we REALLY TRULY doing what we always thought we would? When playing pretend as a child, I sure as hell don't remember ever wanting to dress up as a Customer Service Representative. Don't get me wrong, I like my job a lot. I do. But what happened to the simple dream? Where did it go? Is it hiding somewhere in my brain, waiting to rear it's ugly head when I'm 45 and longing for the days when I could do the splits?
Furthermore, if given the opportunity to follow a simple dream like this, what is it about the complexity of adulthood that prevents us from single-mindedly following the dream into fruition? Obligations to others, or perhaps children? When did we all stop paying attention to what we really want, and start doing everything for other people? I'm not even 26 yet, and I'm already regretting things in my life that I didn't do. What do we do when our childhood dreams become a memory, instead of an opportunity, and what happens next?
What do you regret?
<< Home