Day 14: Regret vs. Forgiveness

I should begin this post by saying, Happy Easter–if you celebrate it. And if not, I hope you had an excellent sunday regardless. I spent the majority of my day in Easter service(s). First, at the ashram for the SRF sunrise service and then later that day at Catholic Mass with my father. One topic that was highlighted in both services was forgiveness. As the sunrise service drew to a close this morning, the speaker had us close our eyes in preparation for our final meditation. He asked us to picture someone we want to send our forgiveness to. I thought for a moment. I thought about all the people who have hurt me in the past, the people I have hurt, the people I wish I could start fresh with. But above any of my initial ideas of who to send my forgiveness, the only person I could think of who I hand't already forgiven, the one person who really needed forgiveness right now, was myself. As I have stated in previous posts, this past year has been a challenging one for me, full of change, loss, and confusion. And so much of it, I blame on myself. I blame myself for things out of my control; the things that I had no way of knowing about. And also the things that I did have control over. The opportunities that I let slip through my fingers, the shots not taken, the faith absent from action. The things that, to this day, I brood over asking myself, "What if I had done things differently?" It is this question that is the root of regret. Regret. A thing I know too well. As I one time said in a journal entry,

"It is regret that hurts the most. You know, the knowing that there was an opportunity and not taking it. That pain that comes over and over again when you look back on that one night–when your heart is in your throat and you can’t breathe. 

Regret:

It is the inability to cope with a given reality. The belief that–given a second opportunity–changing what was would fix what is. It is a feeling of helplessness–a sinking feeling. It is the panic that comes when you finally realize that what was is no longer what is. Regret is the last thing on your mind but always the first thing that will bring you to tears. It is a want–a desire to search the unknown to find that one idea you once held onto with such hope. Regret is the liquor of the soul; though ultimately destructive, the pain is lesser than that of letting go. 

Regret is the source of all pain, really. It is the time spent in the car when there was nothing. And nothing more I could do. Regret is when I realized that nothing could bring me back to that moment. No thought, no prayer, all that was left was nothing–and me. And all I could do was cry. Cry for what was and cry for what could have been. Cry for that moment, the opportunity. Cry for regret. I cried, because I couldn’t change anything. But in that moment, I could have changed everything. 

Regret is choosing fear.

It is a dream without a will. A map without a road. A bicycle without peddles, a moment without time, and hope without belief. Regret is loving a person who is already gone. It is the knowing, now. But the ignorance then. 

Regret is what fills my heart now–as I write this and as I go through each day, my life. Every day and every moment bringing me further away from the moment when I could have changed everything. Regret–to me–is courage when it is too late: a moment only caught after the director yells “cut”, a cure after disease has killed a man. 

Regret is something that will never die. Because man can never cease to wonder, “What if it happened differently?” 

Regret is what was disguised as what is. It is the inability to completely understand and yet understanding completely. And it’s because of you, you know. 

Yeah, it’s regret that’ll get you every time. If you let it, it will hold you forever, never let you go. It’s okay though, I know regret too, you know. And I still see regret when I remember that night. In the place where you once stood and where I stood only a short distance away. Had I the courage, in the presence of time, in that moment, you could have been mine. And perhaps, everything would be different now."

It was through today–Easter Sunday–that I have realized I cannot truly let go unless I can truly forgive myself. Forgive myself for what was, what I did, and what I didn't do. Forgive myself, to release the regret I have harbored for so long now. Like charity, forgiveness starts at home. If you cannot forgive yourself, you cannot expect to forgive the world. And if you cannot forgive the world, how can you expect the world to forgive you? And without forgiveness, we would loose sight of the beginning that comes as a promise with each day we are blessed with. Regret is. It just is. And nothing will ever make it go away. But it is forgiveness that can help us move forward, distancing ourselves from that place we call Regret. 

Happy Easter

Skirt: Urban Outfitters, Top: Urban Outfitters, Shoes: Steve Madden, Flower crown: Etsy, Backpack: American Eagle 

Today I wore two pieces that I bought at the Urban Outfitters in Greenwich Village almost a year ago: a pink and orange corset and a white lace skirt that I paired with my white wedges. I felt this outfit was tasteful for the today's services but also refreshing and stylistic. If nothing else, it allowed me to get out of wearing your typical "Easter Sunday Dress". Though I like dresses very much, I don't particularly love wearing them... It's a long story. Anyways, the white skirt gave a more innocent look to the outfit while the bright corset gave the piece more shape and flare. I wore my favorite–well, currently, my only–flower crown. I am looking to get another one. Hopefully one with bigger flowers and possibly red or deep purple in color. If you have any ideas where I should look, comment below please. I'm also looking for some cool places to buy music-fest clothing, as Coachella is less than two weeks away!

Again, I hope you had a wonderful and relaxing Easter Sunday. Good luck with Monday tomorrow, Lord knows we all need it. Until then, sweet dreams wonderful people of the Internet. 

P.S. "Forget regret or life is yours to miss" - Jonathan Larson (excerpt from RENT)