Our personal regrets are powerful in how they work to shape us into the people we want to be. But our accomplishments are even more adept at molding us.
I’ve got an old suitcase bulging at the seams with regret. I don’t lug its oppressive heft around with me on the regular, but I do hold onto it because it’s packed with important reminders of unsavory venues I’ve visited—places I never want to return to.
I’ve never been able to comprehend it when someone insists, “I have no regrets.” I can’t fathom how that can be true. I wonder whether it’s a sentiment possibly born of faulty hindsight. Or perhaps some false bravado. I do understand, though, that we’re better served and better able to serve others by focusing on all that we don’t regret more than all that we do.