regret

I listen to National Public Radio. I listen when I am in my car, driving Charlotte to and from school. There’s loads that I appreciate about NPR, not the least of which is that it is my news source these days(no TV or internet in my house), but my very favorite thing about NPR happens every weekday at 3pm. Every weekday, at 3pm, I am sitting in the school’s drive-thru pick-up line, waiting for my daughter. And every weekday at 3pm, Garrison Keillor hosts The Writer’s Almanac. For three to five minutes, Garrison Keillor tells me a few of the events that have occurred on that day in history. All the events are from the history of art and culture. And while I’m interested in the trivia I glean, like celebrating Billy Collins’ birthday last month and Oscar Wilde’s last week, my favorite thing about those three to five minutes is that Garrison Keillor reads me a poem. It is one of the small treasures in my day that I get to hear a poem read to me- even when I don’t necessarily care for the poem itself.

It was several weeks ago that I heard “Antilamentation” by Dorianne Laux. I sat entranced as Garrison told me to “Regret nothing. Not the cruel novels you read to the end just to find out who killed the cook, not the insipid movies that made you cry in the dark, in spite of your intelligence, your sophistication, not the lover you left quivering in a hotel parking lot, the one you beat to the punch line, the door or the one who left you in your red dress and shoes, the ones that crimped your toes, don’t regret those.” A little later Garrison read, “You were meant to inhale those smoky nights over a bottle of flat beer, to sweep stuck onion rings across the dirty restaurant floor, to wear the frayed coat with its loose buttons, its pockets full of struck matches. You’ve walked those streets a thousand times and still you end up here. Regret none of it…” And then just a few lines later, “You’ve traveled this far on the back of every mistake, ridden in dark-eyed and morose but calm as a house after the TV set has been pitched out the window. Harmless as a broken ax. Emptied of expectation. Relax. Don’t bother remembering any of it. Let’s stop here, under the lit sign on the corner, and watch all the people walk by.” I appreciate how the author paints pictures with words, therefore I appreciate this poem. When I hear this poem, I feel loneliness and desperation… I feel regret. The author says, “regret nothing”, but then drowns me in regrettable sentences and moments. I am left huddled under that lit sign on the corner, checking my pockets for a cigarette I won’t find; my soul adrift in the futility of my life. Seriously, well done, Dorianne Laux: I don’t even smoke.

When the Writer’s Almanac ended that day, and the shroud of magic that Dorianne Laux and Garrison Keillor wove had been lifted, I sat and stewed on the idea of regretting nothing. By the time I was parked back in my driveway, I had come to the conclusion that it is not possible to regret nothing. Not even advisable to try, unless one is attempting life as sociopath. The only alternative is to succeed in a blameless, sinless life, which is why I maintain that to “regret nothing” is not possible: even a one-time offense in pride, envy, deception, bigotry, or hate is regrettable.

Regret is not the sum total of who I am, but I have come to be thankful for regret. I have learned some huge lessons through regret. I can be so foolish, fearful, and selfish, but regret helps me remember the pain of choices I’ve made under those influences. I think God uses regret for our good. The sum total of me includes all my crappy choices and because of Jesus, how the consequences have been redeemed. I appreciate that Dorianne Laux doesn’t want me to be too hard on myself, but Teachable, and Redeemed each have a welcome light on and are waiting at the door to let me in: a lot like what my friend says about her Alcoholics Anonymous groups actually. I can imagine Regretters Anonymous facilitated by Jesus and though maybe being a place that’s initially embarrassing, or awkward to be seen and known, it’s a place I can acknowledge my regret, make things right, and move on, with accountability. This place is a lot healthier than Ms. Laux’s dark corner, on Hopeless and Resigned.

So, in the spirit of confession and vulnerability, here’s an abridged list of my regrets:

I should have tried out.
I should have worn my retainer more.
That time I ducked and hid.
That job.
I gave bitterness a safe harbor in my soul.
I should have gotten a bigger tattoo.
I should have practiced, or at least not said I had.
I should have been a kinder babysitter.
My7th and 11th grade school pictures.
I should have said something sooner.
That letter.
Or that one.
I should not have given him the time of day.
I should have told her she was being mean.

Would you put one of your regrets in a comment?