***
And this is always dangerous territory here. "What if?" "If only..." I think it's already been well established that, as a general rule, people tend to regret far more the things we wish we'd done and never did, than the things we actually did and wish we hadn't. The sins of omission, as it were. There are exceptions to this rule, of course. But even in a society that believes in forgiveness and a second chance, there are very few actual "do-overs" in life. We are changed by each choice we make; every decision is also a "cutting off" in a profoundly literal sense.
This Labor Day weekend has been a big bust for me. Played hooky from church only to regret it later, and meant to get caught up on all sorts of left-over end-of-the-summer, end-of-the-month correspondence and bill-paying and the like...but mostly I just napped and played nursemaid to my dog, as I tried to figure out how to make her feel comfortable and at home here, and establish good routines about feeding and "exercise" for us both. Sure, I wish we both were still walking (and that one of us was driving!); our lives right now would certainly be much easier if we were. But I'm awfully happy to have her here with me, and we'll just figure out the rest as we go.
Meanwhile though, my nostalgia for what might have been has become almost overwhelming. How would my life be different if my cancer had been diagnosed earlier, or if it had never happened at all? What if MFW and the kids had decided that they still actually LIKED sailing, even after her bad experience with her first husband, or...well, like I said, there's really not much point in playing this game, unless it's just an idle pastime intended to help me gain a little more insight into what I'd like to do NEXT.
Because the plain truth of the matter is that I simply can't imagine being anywhere or doing anything else that will give me more pleasure and purpose in life right now than getting back up on the chancel next week for our Annual Ingathering Water Ceremony, and continuing my ministry here at First Parish as ably and for as long as God gives me strength to do it. I hope that doesn't sound too corny, because it's really, really true.
It's also very reassuring to know just how much help and assistance I can look forward to in that effort, both from my (expanding) staff and from members of the congregation, and also from those of you who read this blog at a distance and send me your warm words of encouragement and support. Thanks again to all of you from the bottom of my heart. And to some of you, I look forward to seeing you next Sunday in Church!
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5 comments:
Beautifully put, Tim -- thanks for sharing your thoughts. A song by Carrie Newcomer puts it well, "it's not the things I've said or done I'll regret or be ashamed, but the things I didn't say or do just because I was afraid."
Mary Borders
Timmy, let me be your tough New York Jewish mother for a minute and say, "BUBELEH, DO NOT GO THERE!" I mean, go there for awhile if ya have to (we all do), but don't linger. It's a really hard valley to climb out of, and your climbing legs aren't so good right now. And I quote Annie Lamott, "Sometimes my mind is a dangerous neighborhood that I shouldn't go into alone."
I understand and I feel for you.
It can be pleasurable to circle in the whirlpool. Don't go into the center - it may be a toilet!
I've used up a lot of time with regrets. I nearly quit college to live on a boat in Alaska. If I had, I might never have met you. These alternate time lines are tricky to sort our - best not.
Kerry Lynch
Tim
"Some days are diamonds, some days are stones", but life is ALWAYS in front of us, not behind us. It is only 9 "baby steps" to the pulpet.
See you there!
Oh, musing about the Path Not Taken, are you, Tim? I suppose some regret and "what if's" are only natural but try not to dwell there for too very long. If you do, it could very well dim your view of the path you are on now...for good or for ill.
Can't wait until tomorrow!
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