Letting Go - Sept 10 2020

 

Letting Go

Sept 10 2020

That's the thing about regret.

Would your younger self

have taken your sensible advice,

or even had it in him

to listen respectfully?

If character is destiny,

by which I mean temperament

and that hard-wired brain,

then maybe the fix was in

and you are who you're meant to be.

And while you're entitled to regret

recrimination isn't fair,

because the callow version of you

who is long gone, and imperfectly remembered,

deserves love and forgiveness

instead of churlish resentment.

If I could only do it all again

you say to yourself,

imagining that human beings are perfectible

and life is fair.

Or you console yourself

with second chances;

an unexpected romance

in your twilight years,

reincarnation, perhaps.

Coming back

with nothing of your current life

except the karmic burden

of virtue and vice.

As if you had been let go,

a limp balloon

shrivelled and stretched

exhausting the last of its air,

while an indestructible soul

kept on keeping score.

When you'll start from scratch

with none of the hard-won wisdom

accumulated over the years,

yet with all the hubris of youth;

stumbling, then walking, then learning to talk,

then knowing it all

by the time you've turned 13.

So the more I contemplate rebirth

the more I'm inclined to prefer

a new beginning with the slate wiped clean;

because just imagine

a second adolescence

while still remembering the first!

G. B. Shaw

is reputed to have said

that youth is wasted on the young.

To which I would say

age is only a number,

and even wise old people

keep getting it wrong.

Except the difference is

they know enough

to forgive themselves,

let go of grievance and grudge,

and spend what precious time remains

with purpose and heart.

This poem is a real stretch for me. Because I try to avoid philosophical ones. Because I'm leery of preachiness (the kind of poem full of affirmation, aphoristic self-actualizing saccharine, and adolescent fist-pumping sentiment ...take note, Rupi Kaur!) And because rather than being a positive person, as the narrator of this poem would appear to be, I'm more the half-empty pessimist, catastrophist, and misanthrope! But this is what came to me as I sat down to write.

(By the way, the most amusing take on this metaphorical glass is the one that comes from the practical and frugal engineer. Neither half-full nor half-empty, but rather the product of bad design: a poorly constructed container, mismatched to its intended use!)

I find variations on the expression “you are who you're meant to be” very problematic. Because I don't believe in destiny or fate, as if some celestial puppet-master were pulling the strings. But in the sense the poem has it, I can agree: if character is destiny, then no matter how many times we're given the chance to relive our lives, it would likely turn out similar.

I think I have more regrets than most, and being inclined to introspection and retrospection, dwell on them more. But when I find regret turning into recrimination, I reprimand myself: that younger version of me deserves only love and forgiveness, not resentment and animosity. You need the humility to recognize that you still haven't mastered life: that you still frequently betray your better angels; that you still make bad choices despite knowing better. And if that's the case, then imagine how hard it was for your callow self. If the compass points of a happy life are kindness, gratitude, and forgiveness, then forgiveness starts with this: not just forgiving others, and not just forgiving yourself, but forgiving your past selves, as well.

Reincarnation – that mistakes don't matter anyway, since you get another chance – is really no consolation for a badly lived life. Because if consciousness and self-consciousness are not continuous, then it's not really you who gets reborn, it's someone else. If memory is all we're constructed of, then death truly is final, no matter how many times the wheel of reincarnation turns.

Yes, youth is wasted on the young: young people rarely appreciate their vitality and opportunity; rarely have the perspective to deal well with minor setbacks. But an old age spent in regret or grievance or grudge is also wasted. Life satisfaction requires finding meaning and purpose. This is the business of the old and elderly. It can be the best part of living.

(“Character is destiny” is one version of something said by the pre-Socratic Greek philosopher Haraclitus. As a great admirer of Stoicism, I was wondering if he might have been one. After Googling, it turns out that he predated the Stoics, but that his thought influenced them. Here's more:

https://medium.com/stoicism-philosophy-as-a-way-of-life/heraclitus-the-pre-stoic-philosopher-who-inspired-marcus-aurelius-89c8e4312936)