Our Ifs and Almosts

Our conditional 'ifs' and halting 'almosts' are like ghosts come to haunt the night with regret. When 'Ifs' are attached to anything a contractual arrangement comes into play and spontaneity is all but eliminated. When we hear an intonation of 'Almost' there is little doubt that disappointment will fill the air. 'Ifs' and 'Almosts' are terms and conditions, stopping short, and turning back. They create an incomplete state of being fearful of change. Passion is traded in for safety. Hands reach out and touch nothing.

Several years ago, I was visited by old friends who were passing through on their way to a vacation in the mountains. Our reunion was a good one, filled with tales of youthful exploits and misadventures.

At the end of the evening, one of my old pals asked me whether I had any regrets.

Without hesitation, I replied that I did not. He was flabbergasted. After all of what he rightly perceived as heartaches, losses, errors in judgment, and recklessness in my life, the thought of my being without regret seemed highly unlikely. I went on to explain that each of the difficulties and pitfalls of life brought me to the here and now. It would have been impossible to be the person I am today without each moment that led me to this place and time. Each molded me into the person I have become. Regret would presume that I know better and could have orchestrated things more astutely than God.

He then began a litany of his own regrets. Each was punctuated with an 'If' or an 'Almost'. If only he had been less headstrong with his true love they might have forged a life together. If only he hadn't taken a certain job he wouldn't have compromised his belief system. He almost backpacked in Europe.

He almost joined the Peace Corps. I think he wanted me to join in but I could not. I listened. It is just what I heard every day from the folks who came to me for professional counseling. And I had certainly felt the same way at one time.

Often disguised as would-have, should-have, and could-have, we all have life stories that could be reduced down to 'Ifs' and 'Almosts'. But those filters colorize and mask the wonder and beauty of who we have become and are becoming. The burdens of grief and loss are overwhelming when we look at things in that way.

There is a lesson going forward. Eliminate any ‘If' that constricts a relationship to this-for-that. Forget about what 'Almost’ was and celebrate what is. Stop with the woulda, shoulda, coulda. Time accelerates to a practically blinding speed as we get older. Here is a guaranteed formula. Just let go and let God. This roller coaster ride is a lot more fun if you take your hands off the restraining bar and throw them up in the air.

Good Intentions; A Paving Project

The good we do lives on forever.  But our intentions disappear with the early morning mist.

There is a great little pub near the University of Illinois in Champaign, Illinois named Murphy's. Famous for its cheeseburgers and fries, it has been a haunt of graduate students and alumni for the past 50 years.  It is also known for the graffiti carved on its tables and written on other surfaces.  One of my contributions once graced a booth.  Some of the words reflect the transformation of hearts and minds.  But my favorite one said this;

No regrets. No more apologies

This poetic wall-thought still speaks to me.  It tells of mistakes, excuses, explanations, and justifications offered up over the young life of one embarking on a new journey, seemingly free of external pressure and expectations.  It was a promise made which probably couldn't be kept for very long. So it goes with most good intentions.

I know what is implied when they say "the road to hell is paved with good intentions." But it seems rather counterintuitive that there would be a well-paved highway to fire and brimstone.  The suggestion is that Old Scratch somehow uses what we fail to do for his benefit.  Though all of that mythology is interesting, it is more likely that the paving project of good intentions falls under auspices of The Department of Individual Neglect. Everyone suffers when we allow the infrastructure of our hopes and dreams fall to waste.

Like hopes and dreams, good intentions require legs and wings.  They have to be implemented with passion and hard good work.  They cannot be compromised by expedient distractions but must be cherished, nurtured, and developed with discipline. Good intentions can be a cranky bugger. I guess this is why we let many of them go.