by M. Joseph Boehler

in those quiet moments, when regret presses upon you,

know it is okay to feel, to ache, to stumble,

life's journey is a winding one,

with some choices leading us astray.

you are not alone in this,

every heart knows the sting of what-ifs.

take this moment, step back, and reflect,

each experience, even the painful,

all hold wrapped lessons,

serving to guide you towards brighter days.

be gentle, mistakes do not define you—

they shape you by what you choose to do with them.

learn what you can, and lean upon those who care,

depending upon another echoes the pulse of our humanity.

so, let go of what you cannot change,

for the beauty of becoming what you will.

—

Author's Note: I hear the mantra "live without regret", and although I admire its optimism, I cannot fully endorse it. Major life decisions inevitably leave traces of doubt, and I am no exception. I've felt rumination tighten around both past choices and future possibilities. My imagination often magnifies those "what-ifs", and I wouldn't trade that for a flatter, regret-free existence.

My understanding of regret is that it's an uneasy awareness that a different action could have produced a better outcome. Regret is a double-edged sword: too much self-awareness can stoke rumination, too little leaves us veiled from our own mistakes, causing us to repeat them. Moreover, our imagination fills in the details of every "what-if", making those possibilities feel almost tangible.

Rather than fearing or ignoring regret, I see it as a uniquely human attribute. A reminder that we care deeply about our choices, that we possess the ability to imagine alternatives, and we can ultimately choose differently. Let the double-edged sword of regret sharpen—not blunt—your sense of purpose.