Regrets, I’ve Had A Few

 

“Of all the words of mice and men, the saddest are, "It might have been.”
― Kurt Vonnegut

Human beings are meant to have regret.  It helped save the species in that we have to recognize threat.  In fact, we are made to see the negatives. We have a conscience.  We have a social conscience as well.  We can not, could not, afford to be ousted.  A deep-seated need is given to us to remain in a social group and we should not trespass to be excluded.  Reflection can bring about positive change.  If it hurts, self or others, causes guilt or shame, perhaps we ought not to do that again.   Regretful people will always find things to regret and will dwell in the negatives.  Positive people will recognize a regret and do something about it. 

Contrarians will do regretful things just to prove they can.  Rebels will always be rebels until they finally can rebel no longer or find anything to rebel about.  It has to be a lonely space to be in. 

Many equate regrets with mistakes.  Many things regretted are not premeditated.  Life happens.  Life can suck.  We make decisions when we do not know the full facts, we do what we do before we realize what we are doing.  There are many woulda, coulda, shouldas in life.  But we have to remember, we would not, at that time; we could not, at that time; we should not have, at that time.  But we did what we did when we did it.  It is not a Present thing. 

When we hold regret, we are dealing with our early lives.  We are not that person any more.  We cannot change it.  It was.  We were.  And, now we are not.  We have already learned that lesson.  If there is regret, then we need to accept it and move forward.  Life is a progression not a degression.  What was can never be again.  What is is. 

We know what led to the regrets, we are, now, maybe late in time, accepting that there was regret, then, but we own it and we live with the changes it wrought.  Regret is merely a red flag, as it was in earliest of mankind.  We make amends when we sense we should, for things that happen in the ‘now’.  We remain mindful and not miss opportunities as they come, and weigh them with our logic.  And, we accept that we are who we are and mean no harm.

©Carol Desjarlais 8.9.22

 

 

You've Got A Friend In Me

 

 

“In this world, we return home to find our way separately, each forgiving the other for the things she could not give. In this world, we see each other occasionally; a friend, a touchstone to whom we both return, the heartbreak we both bravely revisit.”
― Kayla Rae Whitaker, The Animators

Throughout early childhood and into teens, we explore friendships of all kinds and as we age, we begin to refine our choice of friends.  Around 30, we begin to winnow out friends and we begin to expend energy in developing deeper friendships.  We may feel loss or shame at losing some friendships, but it is a normal process. When we really look at our friendships, we begin to know more about ourselves in that we are refining the kinds of people we are friends with according to who we are and what is important to us.

We seek friends who have common interests to us.  We keep friends who have common history to us.  We chose friends who have common values to what we do.  But, the longstanding friends we continue to have in our lives will have a common history, ones we grew up with, and those who have become part of our history.  Our shared experiences grew that bond.  It doe not mean we see them every day nor even contact each other for months, years, when we get together, it is like coming home. They are part of our roots.  They are some of our record-keepers.  There was mutual support.  They remind us of our history.  They remind us of our youth.  Yes, they feel like home.

As we age, our stories will diverge and yet, that common history is strong and valuable.  They will remind us of who we used to be, help us see our growth, and maybe get us back on track to what it was we meant to be.

The more independent we become, the more difficult it is to make friends.  Perhaps we will think we need them less.  Oh, we have many acquaintances.  They keep the loneliness of aging away.  But there is nothing like reconnecting with an old friend to remind us how little, truly, we have changed. Those we shared a history with will feel more like family and taught us how to be friends.  There is a reason we are friends.

Sometimes friendships take effort.  Those historical friends are worth it and it is wise to keep that friendship fresh and close.  Good friends are hard to find.  The history is why we were friends in the first place.  Sometimes we know too much about each other as they will know your raw history not just your surface history.    A friends we have ‘been there”, ”done that” together and sometimes there are some things that will have us laugh uncontrollably, right from the toes to the top of our head laugh.  We have been foolhardy, dangerously adventurous, wonderfully silly, and deeply close.  We might have been gu8ilty, shamefully, and foolhardy as well.  Sometimes it can almost be triggering.  But, there they are, ‘our knowing’  our forgiving, our solace. 

When life gets overwhelming, it is important to have that shoulder to lean on.  It is, also, important to have friends as they are an important development as individuals. 

I wish you deep friendships, old friendships, changing friendships, but, truly, friendships.

©Carol Desjarlais 8.8.22

 

 

Honoring Our Talents

 

 

 Why do we hide our talents and do not share them openly and with gratitude for them?  Why do feel ashamed when we share what is our gifts?  It is hard and it feels like selef-promotionsoWe ar hestitant because we denigrate the talents we were given.  The othr day, I was sent a copy of something one of my favorite East Coast Canadian Poets had written for me.  It i beautiful.  I read it and feel an inner senses of gratitude for him and for what he ee in one of my talents.  I was hesitant to show it, but I honor him as well as my talent for writing poetry.

 

The Poetess: Evoked Tears And Laughter

He reads her like a book,

 a book read in a field overflowing

with epiphanies.

 

In his deductions, too,

he sees her as both pupil and teacher,

question and answer, silence and sound,

sun and rain, tears and laughter, agony and ecstasy,

nature and nurture, shadow and light.

 

She is a poetess, and her poems

are explosive, mushroom clouds

formed across the vast horizons,

her words rousing the dormant masses,

taking them from the mundane to the mystery...

a circle ever growing, forever evolving...

she the apt interceder between heaven and earth.

 

For those able to grasp the depths of her work,

even marginally, allowed, as they are,

to delve into the mystique and the mastery,

tomorrow cannot ever again resemble yesterday.

 

For those unable to delve into the inherent depths,

little might it matter, though she will

most assuredly continue on her destined journey,

not only progressive in her thinking,

moving ahead in quantum leaps,

but exhibiting the other-worldly,

in touch to such an extent

as to bring the very gods to their knees...

 

She is the new breed, the new species,

if, in reality, a throwback to a time

when simplicity and absolute wisdom were soul mates.

 

In the heartbeat of her work,

there is also the inevitable drumbeat

of someone marching to a solitary symphony,

at times evoked in that tears,

for all that which tears represent,

if also at times evoked in that laughter,

for all that which joy could ever exemplify.

 

© Richard Doiron

 

This is something of an homage to my friend, Carol Desjarlais, artist, teacher, and poet of distinction, someone who has played an important part in my life (as she has with others) for decades...never farther away than the spurring of a memory.