The "R" Word

Regrets? I've had a few. But then again, too few to mention.

-- Frank Sinatra, My Way

Oh, that it were so, Frank!

(Note: This post is a little different from my norm. Some posts are devotional. Some are motivational. This one may be a bit of both - or neither - but it comes from a place that is personal.)

My son and I rented the movie La La Land this weekend. It was a departure from our usual testosterone-driven genre. A bit of a spoiler alert - and turn away now if you need to - it was heartbreaking. (Hey I told you to turn away. Besides, you've had ample time since the Academy Awards debacle, don't get mad at me.) In the same weekend we also watched The Internship for probably the eighth time.

There is a common theme flowing through these movies; though they go divergent directions with it. This theme proved for me to be particularly poignant. The emotion could have been due to my season in life, the dreary weather, massive post-workout protein loading; or a combination of all. But I think it lies deeper.

"...That's coming from someone who wakes up in the morning, 

and first thing on their calendar is regret..."

-- Nick Campbell (Owen Wilson), The Internship

The "R" word. It is a dirty word. It is a painful emotion. It can be a debilitating shadow. Regret.

Some people boast they live life with no regrets. "No Regrets!" (dude) has become a kind of war cry - usually before doing something stupid. (Like leaping off the world's highest bungee bridge with a rubber band strapped to your feet. See Bloukrans; http://davidmstanleykineticlife.blogspot.com/2014/09/bloukrans.html)

But even Sinatra admitted having a few. We all do. For some reason a couple of mine have become disturbingly active recently. But while I attempt authenticity and vulnerability in this forum, I don't want to make the reader uncomfortable; so I'll stop short of that line. 

Where the two movies diverge, is in how the main characters deal with regret. 

One is a redemption story; a tale of renewed purpose and deeper sense of self. A happy ending, if you will. 

The other is wrenching. (Spoiler alert!) It ends with a hauntingly simple melody being played by a man reliving the opportunities for love. Opportunities lost. And in the notes, if you listen closely, the piano keys can be heard weeping... "If only..."

Regret can be a cruel prison guard; ever reminding us of why we are incarcerated and cynically telling us there is no hope. Or regret can be the gunpowder propelling us in a new direction and to a new destination. "What ifs..." and "Only ifs..." must give way to "Next times..." and "This times..." that lead to moment-seizing victories.  

We will either release the past and forgive ourselves the part(s) we have played. Or we will slump over the keyboard and continually play the haunting melody of regret. 

For now...

D