Edith Piaf’s famous song is absolute – no regrets for any past choice or event whether good or bad! All can be laid aside as if they never occurred. (Follow the link to her song and its description.)
When Joan Chittister writes about coming to terms with Regret as a feature of ageing, she has a different take. Choices are made and there comes a point in our journey when we look back and decide their effect on our life’s trajectory. Why did I take that job instead of the other? How come I did not pursue that relationship that promised so much? What would have happened if I had lived closer to my birthplace rather than moved so far away? These questions are not so off-handedly dismissed as Piaf’s song suggests – they linger in the shadows of our hearts and minds and their stage whispers cry for our attention from time to time. What would my life look like had I chosen differently?
A regret may carry a burden that hides the gift. Imagination might caress the possibilities of what might have occurred had the alternative path been taken and what wounds, inconveniences and circumstances might have been avoided. In doing so, we expose ourselves to neglect of the celebration of the good that has arisen from the course actually taken.
Against the sound wisdom of the era, I left school and entered the workforce before completing Leaving or Matriculation. This cut my academic options severely. Throughout my vocation as a minister, I have dwelt in academic circles, making my occasional contributions with qualifications no higher than a suite of graduate diplomas and an incomplete Master’s program. Had I completed Matriculation earlier, I would have had a more effective starting block to win the qualifications that would have made me more capable in the areas of teaching and vocational training.
Yet the workforce provided me with a different kind of preparation for the people-focused work I would be engaged with for the rest of my life. I learned all aspects of the electroplating industry in the small factory my fifteen-year-old self started with, then went to counter-hopping in retailing and managing service and repairs for household appliances, to warehousing, gardening, and census collecting. The gifts from these experiences have risen unbidden when confronted with decisions for which much academic training would not have prepared me.
The burden of academic inadequacy only hits me sometimes. I constantly cherish the gifts that emerge from having made what many considered an unwise life choice. From this perspective, I can claim “je ne regrette rien!”
Now well into my seventies, I can look down over my life’s pathways and see the number of forks in the road where significant life-changing choices have been made. There was really never any “right” choice – either fork came with its own possibilities and promises. Each choice was taken after careful prayer and discernment. In the end, it has been possible to go forth with supreme confidence in the One who leads not from the front, but Who walks alongside. Again, because of this confidence, “je ne regrette rien.”
Joan Chittister summarises her reflections thus:
The burden of regret is that, unless we come to understand the value of the choices we made in the past, we may fail to see the gifts they have brought us.
The blessing of regret is clear – it brings us, if we are willing to face it head on, to the point of being present to this new time of life in an entirely new way. It urges us on to continue becoming.
Je ne regrette rien
Not ignoring poor choices
Thanks for way chosen
Wondering Pilgrim 