Regret Wrong Decision Quotes

Over the last couple of years, the photos of me when I was a kid... well, they've started to give me a little pang or something - not unhappiness, exactly, but some kind of quiet, deep regret... I keep wanting to apologize to the little guy: "I'm sorry, I've let you down. I was the person who was supposed to look after you, but I blew it: I made wrong decisions at bad times, and I turned you into me.

always takes action. Wrongly or rightly; that is revealed later. But you should act, be brave, seize life by the scruff of the neck. Believe me, little one, you should only regret inactivity, indecisiveness, hesitation. You shouldn’t regret actions or decisions, even if they occasionally end in sadness and regret.

Can you experience nostalgia for something that hasn’t happened? We talk of ‘regrets’ about the course of our lives, when we are almost certain we have taken the wrong decision; but one can also be enveloped in a sweet and mysterious euphoria, a sort of nostalgia for what might have been.

This is the man who thinks too much, who stands back from his life and never lives it. He is caught in a web of pros and cons about his decisions and lost in a labyrinth of reflective meanderings from which he cannot extricate himself. He is afraid to live, to ‘leap into battle.’ He can only sit on his rock and think. The years pass. He wonders where the time has gone. And he ends by regretting a life of sterility. He is a voyeur, an armchair adventurer. In the world of academia, he is a hairsplitter. In the fear of making the wrong decision, he makes none. In his fear of living, he also cannot participate in the joy and pleasure that other people experience in their lived lives. If he is withholding from others, and not sharing what he knows, he eventually feels isolated and lonely. To the extent that he has hurt others with his knowledge and technology—in whatever field and in whatever way—by cutting himself off from living relatedness with other human beings, he has cut off his own soul.” Refering the the dark magician energy.

If his decision is correct, he will win the battle, even if it lasts longer than expected. If his decision is wrong, he will be defeated and he will have to start all over again—only this time with more wisdom. But once he has started, a Warrior of the Light perseveres until the end.

She had been impulsive all her life, made decisions without thought for the future, and regretted none of them, however dotty. Looking back, all she regretted were the opportunities missed, either because they had come along at the wrong time or because she had been too timid to grasp them.

You will have to make decisions far worse. You are going to have to learn to think before you act, but never to regret your decisions, right or wrong. Otherwise, you will slowly begin to not make decisions at all.

be patient enough to identify the real reasons why you meet people, situations and moments in time or else you would be patient enough to analyze the real reasons why you missed people, situations and moments in time in regret or in wonder

There's nothing more human than being wrong," she said quietly. "Or being persuaded one way and then regretting your decision. I would argue that learning to live with that regret is the most human thing of all.

Regrets are like molecules. We're all made up of a lot of them. They are elemental. Building blocks. The foundations of memory. You can dawdle in the past, allow it to shadow you, or you can walk forward into the light of tomorrow.But you can't altogether disregard what has already been- byways chosen, detours taken. The misbegotten decisions you can never reverse, but only by sorting through them can you find where you took the wrong turns and gain proper perspective. Time is a parabolic lens, bringing hindsight into focus.

It was the blue-tinged taste of a regret so deep you could never plumb its depths. It was the victory at Rajal that never came, it was his brother walking away down the long dark wood corridor, it was a life he might have had in Yhelteth if disgust and fury had not sent him away in disgrace instead. It was the slaves he could not free, the screaming women and children of Ennishmin he could not save, the piled-up, silent dead and the smashed-in, ruined homes. It was every wrong decision he'd ever made, every path he'd failed to walk, fanned out and held up for him to understand, and it hurt.

Sometimes when things go wrong, it's easy to blame someone else. Because it simplifies things. it takes any responsibility out of your hands. And I don't know if your parents did that to you and your sister or if somewhere along the way you took that blame on yourself, but it's not your fault. None of it. Your parents made their decisions, and I'm not saying their situation was, or that they didn't do the best they could. But it wasn't enough, Harriet. If you could even think that, if you could ever even fucking wonder if they regretted you, then they didn't do enough.

Years of waiting, of wanting, of wrong decisions and longing regrets. They all floated to the surface and yet drowned in the depths all at once.

If you take steps based on fantasies and illusions, you shall meet realities and remember the had I knows in sorrow

He would regret this decision – if it was a decision – bitterly, but there never came a time when he did not understand it.

Never have regrets. You make a decision, and you make it for the right reason at the time. Even if it proves to be the wrong decision later, you live with it.

You're ninety years old. What's one regret you wish you could change? That's it? That's the question, but here are the rules. You have to look for the grace of it, not the judgement, yours or anyone else's. You have to look for the answer in your passions, your art, your writing, the ocean, the faces of those you love, the ethereal things that give you joy. It has to feel light and free. If it doesn't, you're convincing yourself of the wrong decision.

I can not regret what I have learned. Regardless of what you decide and what becomes of us, it will not change this belief, and whatever children I may have, I will try to teach them this: that life is meant to be more than existence. Fight for and hold on to your passion, whatever it is, but surrender gracefully when the passion is well spent. For it is through loss that we learn, and grief that we grow stronger, and living that we learn how to love. Everything is a choice, and by avoiding choices, one not only ensures that a wrong decision won't be made, but also steals a soul's chance to live, to learn, and to love.

Look a little closer at the next older lady you meet. You might see that sparkle. Or you might not. Some of us are grumpy and sad. Some of us are in serious pain...our feet, our hips, our shoulders. Some of us are crazed with grief and regret for wrong decisions. Never mind.

An enchantress always takes action. Wrongly or rightly; that is revealed later. But you should act, be brave, seize life by the scruff of the neck. Believe me, little one, you should only regret inactivity, indecisiveness, hesitation. You shouldn’t regret actions or decisions, even if they occasionally end in sadness and regret.

Not even time can heal the scars of regret left by one person's wrong decisions, but that is why we should strive to be the better man in a battle.

I do, too! Just imagine, I’d have a private practice now, like Yenna. I wouldn’t have to sweat with novices. I wouldn’t have to wipe the noses of the blubbering ones or lock horns with the cheeky ones. Ciri, listen to me and learn. An enchantress always takes action. Wrongly or rightly; that is revealed later. But you should act, be brave, seize life by the scruff of the neck. Believe me, little one, you should only regret inactivity, indecisiveness, hesitation. You shouldn’t regret actions or decisions, even if they occasionally end in sadness and regret.

How are things going with your brothers?” “The judge set a date to hear me out after graduation. Mrs.Collins has been prepping me.” “That is awesome!” “Yeah.” “What’s wrong?” “Carrie and Joe hired a lawyer and I lost visitation.” Echo placed her delicate hand over mine.“Oh, Noah. I am so sorry." I’d spent countless hours on the couch in the basement, staring at the ceiling wondering what she was doing. Her laughter, her smile, the feel of her body next to mine, and the regret that I let her walk away too easily haunted me. Taking the risk, I entwined my fingers with hers. Odds were I’d never get the chance to be this close again. "No, Mrs. Collins convinced me the best thing to do is to keep my distance and follow the letter of the law." "Wow, Mrs. Collins is a freaking miracle worker. Dangerous Noah Hutchins on the straight and narrow. If you don’t watch out she’ll ruin your rep with the girls." I lowered my voice. "Not that it matters. I only care what one girl thinks about me." She relaxed her fingers into mine and stroked her thumb over my skin. Minutes into being alone together, we fell into each other again, like no time had passed. I could blame her for ending us, but in the end, I agreed with her decision. “How about you, Echo? Did you find your answers?” “No.” If I continued to disregard breakup rules, I might as well go all the way. I pushed her curls behind her shoulder and let my fingers linger longer than needed so I could enjoy the silky feel. “Don’t hide from me, baby. We’ve been through too much for that.” Echo leaned into me, placing her head on my shoulder and letting me wrap an arm around her. “I’ve missed you, too, Noah. I’m tired of ignoring you.” “Then don’t.” Ignoring her hurt like hell. Acknowledging her had to be better. I swallowed, trying to shut out the bittersweet memories of our last night together. “Where’ve you been? It kills me when you’re not at school.” “I went to an art gallery and the curator showed some interest in my work and sold my first piece two days later. Since then, I’ve been traveling around to different galleries, hawking my wares.” “That’s awesome, Echo. Sounds like you’re fitting into your future perfectly. Where did you decide to go to school?” “I don’t know if I’m going to school.” Shock jolted my system and I inched away to make sure I understood. “What the fuck do you mean you don’t know? You’ve got colleges falling all over you and you don’t fucking know if you want to go to school?” My damned little siren laughed at me. “I see your language has improved.” Poof—like magic, the anger disappeared. “If you’re not going to school, then what are your plans?” "I’m considering putting college off for a year or two and traveling cross-country, hopping from gallery to gallery.” “I feel like a dick. We made a deal and I left you hanging. I’m not that guy who goes back on his word. What can I do to help you get to the truth?” Echo’s chest rose with her breath then deflated when she exhaled. Sensing our moment ending, I nuzzled her hair, savoring her scent. She patted my knee and broke away. “Nothing. There’s nothing you can do.” "I think it’s time that I move on. As soon as I graduate, this part of my life will be over. I’m okay with not knowing what happened.” Her words sounded pretty, but I knew her better. She’d blinked three times in a row.

I made my own choices as well, Heath.” “Would you change any of them?” he asked, giving me a soulful look. “No.” I didn’t even need to think about it but offered an explanation. “To change any of the decisions I’ve made would potentially make me feel as though I’m not living up to my own beliefs or make me a hypocrite. My beliefs in what’s right, what’s wrong, and what’s in between. I won’t ever change what I’ve done, and I don’t regret any of it.

Last week you asked me about grief, about how long it takes to recover. I should’ve told you then, but I just couldn’t. You’re asking the wrong question. It’s not the recovery you should be worrying about. It’s the decisions that are born out of your grief that will haunt you. Some decisions, once you make them, you can’t make any better-....You just live their consequences again and again. That’s why grief is so damn powerful – it has one fierce ally and that ally is regret.

While some of our deepest wounds come from feeling abandoned by others, it is surprising to see how often we abandon ourselves through the way we view life. It’s natural to perceive through a lens of blame at the moment of emotional impact, but each stage of surrender offers us time and space to regroup and open our viewpoints for our highest evolutionary benefit. It’s okay to feel wronged by people or traumatized by circumstances. This reveals anger as a faithful guardian reminding us how overwhelmed we are by the outcomes at hand. While we will inevitably use each trauma as a catalyst for our deepest growth, such anger informs us when the highest importance is being attentive to our own experiences like a faithful companion. As waves of emotion begin to settle, we may ask ourselves, “Although I feel wronged, what am I going to do about it?” Will we allow experiences of disappointment or even cruelty to inspire our most courageous decisions and willingness to evolve? When viewing others as characters who have wronged us, a moment of personal abandonment occurs. Instead of remaining present to the sheer devastation we feel, a need to align with ego can occur through the blaming of others. While it seems nearly instinctive to see life as the comings and goings of how people treat us, when focused on cultivating our most Divine qualities, pain often confirms how quickly we are shifting from ego to soul. From the soul’s perspective, pain represents the initial steps out of the identity and reference points of an old reality as we make our way into a brand new paradigm of being. The more this process is attempted to be rushed, the more insufferable it becomes. To end the agony of personal abandonment, we enter the first stage of surrender by asking the following question: Am I seeing this moment in a way that helps or hurts me? From the standpoint of ego, life is a play of me versus you or us versus them. But from the soul’s perspective, characters are like instruments that help develop and uncover the melody of our highest vibration. Even when the friction of conflict seems to divide people, as souls we are working together to play out the exact roles to clear, activate, and awaken our true radiance. The more aligned in Source energy we become, the easier each moment of transformation tends to feel. This doesn’t mean we are immune to disappointment, heartbreak, or devastation. Instead, we are keenly aware of how often life is giving us the chance to grow and expand. A willingness to be stretched and re-created into a more refined form is a testament to the fiercely liberated nature of our soul. To the ego, the soul’s willingness to grow under the threat of any circumstance seems foolish, shortsighted, and insane. This is because the ego can only interpret that reality as worry, anticipation, and regret.

Perfectionists fear that if they make a wrong decision, they will think less of themselves and their feeling of regret will be intolerable. But underneath this apprehension is a belief that they can (and should) be omniscient—able to read the future and guarantee how things will turn out. It is a childhood fantasy that grown-ups know everything (how did your parents figure out that you were lying anyway?) and most of us harbor the wish that someday we, too, will know and control everything. It is indeed hard to accept the reality that we are neither omniscient nor omnipotent—and neither were our parents.

But Holms had proven stalwart and valiant. When Miss Jones had shown up to discover them in the castle hallway, because she’d heard a suspicious noise and had feared for her schoolchums’ safety, they’ d had to bring her along. She’d wanted to run straight to the headmistress, of course, but Armand had persuaded her not to. How he regretted that decision now! The duke had fired his guns at them all. They’d retreated, thought to go to the automobile to fetch a doctor and the sheriff, but they’d stumbled the wrong way and fallen down the slope to the beach instead. All three of them. And there, noble Jesse had died. Fact. Fiction. Likely because so much of it had happened, and because Armand’s red-eyed, stoic distress seemed so genuine, the adults around us had accepted it as truth. Mostly. I think if I hadn’t been discovered wearing only Armand’s coat as I knelt next to Jesse’s body, Mrs. Westcliffe might have found the whole thing easier to swallow. Yet the official version ruled the day. And here we all were basking in it, breathing fresh sea air, warmed by the generous spring sun. Burying a hero. A far, far greater hero than anyone standing around me at his funeral would ever suspect. Somewhere in deep-blue briny waters, a U-boat rested, filled with live torpedoes and solid-gold men. I thought I better understood Rue’s letters now. I understood her warning about the pain that would come with my Gifts. I understood my sacrifice.

First, the idea of the multiverse is essentially the fantasy of preserving perfect information. One of the hard things to deal with in life is the fact that you destroy potential information whenever you make a decision. You could even say that's essentially what regret is: a profound problem of incomplete information. If you select one thing on a diner's menu, you can't know what it would have been like to taste other things on it, right then, right there. When you marry one person, you give up the possibility of knowing what it would have been like to have married any number of others. But if the multiverse exists, you can at least imagine there's another version of you who's eating that other thing you thought about ordering, or who's married to that other man you only went on two dates with. Even if you'll never see all the information for yourself, at least you'll be able to tell yourself that it's there. 'The second reason the multiverse seems like such a neat idea is that it gives human beings just an incredible amount of agency, which they can exercise with the least effort. Why, Carson here created an entire alternate universe when he ordered hash browns on the side of his French toast instead of bacon—' 'Ah, I should have gotten bacon, how could I forget,' Carson said, and attempted to hail the waitress. 'But the history of science shows that any theory that covertly panders to the human ego like that, that puts humans at the center of things, is very likely to be found out wrong, given enough time. So, just for the sake of argument, let's assume that there's just this one universe, and we're stuck with it. What happens to our time traveler then?

There’s no wrong decisions. We can always turn deep doo-doo into manure, and grow something to chew on.

In life, people have many possible choices that they can make. Therefore, it is natural to doubt and to regret. Sometimes people instinctively know they have made the wrong decisions. They know this because of their conscience, and their guilt helps determine their choices later in life. Values take a lifetime to figure out. No one is perfect, and each bad decision adds guilt to a person’s heart. Each misstep adds a layer of polish to the rough stone that is a person’s soul. Given enough time, it isn’t long before the soul becomes resplendent. Like pure jade.

My life as, free as it is, just isn’t as great as I thought it would be. I don’t regret my decisions, because that would mean everybody else in the world was right and I was wrong. I do wish things were different. But then I would have to admit that my life wasn’t all bells and whistles, and I just didn’t want to admit that yet.

there came a time when I stopped regretting my decisions. No one should regret loving and trusting another human being. Yes, sometimes we direct our love and trust to the wrong person, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t have done it at all. Hearts should be protected, but they shouldn’t be forced to close.

Life is either too short to be ashamed of doing things wrong and living in regrets later or too long not to be ashamed of making shameful mistakes. The decision is yours.

When we look at decisions through a lens of right or wrong, we limit ourselves from experiencing the unexpected. Although keeping our options open may seem optimal, it can keep us stagnant. In truth, as much as you’d think people regret making the wrong decision, regret is often a result of lack of action. Even a perceived wrong decision can bring about better results than no decision at all.

My mother always taught me that it was wrong to nurture hatred and regret. It made your decisions questionable and made you no different from your enemy. It changed your entire essence and destroyed your soul.

You broke us, Ally. I want you to remember that. When you’re with him and you’re miserable and unhappy because you realized too late that he’s a whoring, alcoholic douchebag with the attention span of a newborn, I want you to remember that you broke us. That decision you made two years ago in my bedroom, to keep silent about being pregnant, was the wrong decision. So is every other decision you’ve made since then. This is not on me. It’s all on you,and you’ll regret it. I promise you that. You’ll regret not choosing me.

Are you all right, Vanni?” he asked. “Hmm, just a little melancholy, that’s all.” “It’s hard to tell what’s bothering you most—Midge’s passing or some problem you’re having with Paul.” She turned to look at him and he said, “Anything you want to talk about?” She shrugged. “There’s not too much to talk about, Dad.” “You could help me understand a couple of things, you know.” “For instance?” “Oh, don’t be coy—you stood Paul up to go away with the doctor and if I know anything about you, you’re not that interested in the doctor. Hell, you’ve been in a strange mood since Paul left after Mattie was born. You knew Paul was coming for the weekend—and despite his best efforts to be circumspect, you knew he was coming for you.” “I wasn’t so sure about that.” “I heard you fight with him, Vanni. Did you and Paul have some kind of falling-out?” “Not exactly, Dad.” Walt took a breath. “Vanessa, I don’t mean to pry, but it’s pretty apparent to me how you feel about Paul. And how Paul feels about you. And yet…” “Dad, while Paul was here last autumn, we got a lot closer. We were good friends before, but of course with all we went through together… Dad, before all that happened, Paul had a life in Grants Pass. One that’s not so easily left behind.” “Vanni, Paul loves you, but something happened between you recently…” “He let me know—there are complications in Grants Pass. Something he’s been struggling with. It’s kept him from being honest about his feelings,” she said. “He has commitments, Dad.” “A woman?” Walt asked. Vanni laughed softly. “We shouldn’t be so surprised that Paul actually had women in his life, should we? Yes, apparently there was a woman. Is a woman…” “Jesus,” Walt said under his breath. “He’s not married, is he?” “Of course not. He wouldn’t keep something like that from us.” “Engaged?” “He says there’s enough of an entanglement there to make his position difficult. That’s why he wasn’t around after Mattie was born.” Walt drove in silence for a while and Vanni resumed gazing out the window. After a few moments of silence Walt asked, “What about you, Vanni? I know you care about him.” “Dad, Matt’s only been gone a few months. Should I even have such feelings? Should I be completely embarrassed? I’ll miss him forever, but I—” “Please don’t do that to yourself, honey,” he said. “Haven’t we learned by now? Life is too short to suffer needlessly.” “Will people say I—” “I don’t give a good goddamn what people say,” he growled. “Everyone is entitled to a little happiness, wherever that is. And I think for you, it’s with Paul.” She sighed and said, “I’m asking myself why I thought I had some claim on him. He was very good to us all, I’m so grateful—but why didn’t I realize that a man like Paul wouldn’t have any trouble attracting the attention—the love—of a woman? I’ve been so angry with him for not telling me, but… Why didn’t I ask?” “Now what, Vanni? Is he trying to make a choice, is that it?” “We were having a discussion, not a very pleasant one, right when the call came from Shelby. It left his intentions up in the air a bit. But there’s one thing I won’t do, I can’t do—I can’t ask Paul to choose me over a woman he has an obligation to. I tried to make it very clear, his duty to me as his best friend’s widow has expired. He doesn’t have to take care of me anymore.” “I have a feeling it’s more than duty,” Walt said. “I have a feeling it always has been…” “He has to do the right thing,” she said. “I’m not getting in the way of that. A man like Paul—he could regret the wrong decision for the rest of his life. And frankly, I don’t want to be the one left to live with his regret.” “Oh, boy. You two have some talking to do.” “No. Paul has business to take care of. I have nothing more to say about this.” *

As a leader, I am there to make the best decisions possible with the evidence at hand and to be able to justify that decision. If it goes wrong, we add to the evidence for making the next decision, but there is no reason for regretting failure, as failure is just the production of evidence.

You only get one shot at life and you can spend it regretting the past and getting angry or bitter about the wrong decisions you’ve made or the hurt caused by others or you can learn from the past and embrace the future instead.

That aside though, everyone our age has fucked up at some time, they’ve done things they regret, they’ve made wrong moves and bad decisions. We’re too old for fairy tales.’ ‘Don’t make me stop watching The Princess Diaries.

I've always told you: never have regrets. You make a decision, and you make it for the right reason at the time. Even if it proves to be the wrong decision later, you live with it.

We each have our little flickers of time here. No one else will ever know much, if any, of what it’s like to be who we are. And for the most part, no one will ever really care. Our life is ultimately our life, and so long as we are not harming others in the process, we must create a life of our own meaning, determining our own objects of importance, committing to their pursuance, and reaping the significance and wonder of life along the way. Truthfully, we seldom have sufficient enough information to properly make any choice, including how much we might agree with Sartre, or anyone else. Throughout our life, we are faced with serious decisions about what we believe, who we are, and what we do. And mostly none of it is self-evident. And if we look, we will always find a reason to regret any decision we make. Move or stay. Agree or disagree. Take the job or quit. Marry or divorce. Live one path or another. In all cases, whatever the choice may be, we will only ever know the outcome of the one we take. And none we take will ever ultimately resolve the uncertainty of life. However, perhaps it is less about getting a potential course of life right, and more about attempting to do so with an effort of self-honesty and virtue. To live a life that can be looked back at with the knowledge that some of our decisions were perhaps wrong in their effects, but right in their intention of not selling our self short. It is, of course, incredibly hard and complicated to grapple with life, to consider the abstract concepts of existence and meaning and being. However, the overwhelming challenge found in this; in the whirlpool of uncertainty; absurdity, and responsibility, is perhaps the unavoidable price of the great gift that we all are given at birth. But it is just that. A gift. And to face up to the abyss, to feel the anguish of choice and potentiality, to bear the weight of self, all are but visceral, humbling, beautiful reminders of the potency of life running through our veins. And perhaps our only job is to realize this and make the gift worth its price. Agree with Sartre or not, ultimately, his ideas are a reminder to do just that. To risk the easy and commonplace for the unique and great. To work towards our full potentials in the face of all obstacles, including our self. To take responsibility for our life and what we make of it. Ultimately, no matter what we do or say or believe, there will always be a great many who disagree or judge or ridicule or become upset by our decisions, but it is of essential importance that we try as often as possible to ensure that among those people, our self is not one of them.

He wondered how each answer could sound equally reasonable, but be completely contradictory. On the 6th night of indecision, Carl went on a walk around the city to try to clear his head. He sat and he thought. He thought about how his entire future was hinged on this decision contained inside his head. That in his brain was the power to facilitate one move that would contort his entire world forever. And yet, he couldn’t even know what choice was right. He thought about how insane this was. To be given the ability to make decisions, but not given the ability to ever know the consequences of them. He felt like he was blind and being forced to drive a car. I’ve spent the last week trying to figure out which choice was right, but maybe there isn’t a right choice. Maybe there’s just a choice. Maybe some decisions aren’t hard because there’s a better option, but because there isn’t one. This whole time I’ve been worried about regretting my choice by choosing the wrong thing as if I could even know what I’m regretting. Regret would mean there was a right choice and I made the wrong one. But how could there be a wrong one? The only thing I can know is that on the other side of the decision, I’ll be there. And if I’m there, no matter what path I go, there will always be something to love and there will always be something to dread. And the only thing to regret would be not making the decision for myself. If you pick it. If anyone else picks it. If I leave it up to chance, it will never be mine. Or at least it won’t feel like it.

could question the belief that if it’s ugly don’t talk about it; put on a mask and just make it look good. And when I looked closely at that belief system and saw how it was keeping me hidden, small, and frankly very lonely, I was able to change it and do so with compassion. I don’t have to make anyone else wrong. I don’t have the change the entire family and how they choose to live and breathe in their own lives. No one has to be wrong or ridiculed. But I do have to live and breathe what is true for me and do so as an aware, emotionally-mature woman who takes responsibility for my choices.

Every regret is a decision that went wrong.

When we choose what to eat, who to spend time with, or what city to live in, regret looms large—presented with a set of good options, it is easy to torture ourselves with the consequences of making the wrong choice. These regrets are often about the things we failed to do, the options we never tried. In the memorable words of management theorist Chester Barnard, “To try and fail is at least to learn; to fail to try is to suffer the inestimable loss of what might have been.

everyone our age has fucked up at some time, they’ve done things they regret, they’ve made wrong moves and bad decisions. We’re too old for fairy tales.

Have you ever looked at a picture of yourself when you were a kid? Or pictures of famous people when they were kids? It seems to me that they can either make you happy or sad. There's a lovely picture of Paul McCartney as a little boy, and the first time I saw it, it made me feel good: all that talent, all that money, all those years of blissed-out domesticity, a rock-solid marriage and lovely kids, and he doesn't even know it yet. But then there are others — JFK and all the rock deaths and fuckups, people who went mad, people who came off the rails, people who murdered, who made themselves or other people miserable in ways too numerous to mention, and you think, stop right there! This is as good as it gets! Over the last couple of years, the photos of me when I was a kid, the ones that I never wanted old girlfriends to see . . . well, they've started to give me a little pang of something, not unhappiness, exactly, but some kind of quiet, deep regret. There's one of me in a cowboy hat, pointing a gun at the camera, trying to look like a cowboy but failing, and I can hardly bring myself to look at it now. Laura thought it was sweet (she used that word! Sweet, the opposite of sour!) and pinned it up in the kitchen, but I've put it back in a drawer. I keep wanting to apologize to the little guy: 'I'm sorry, I've let you down. I was the person who was supposed to look after you, but I blew it: I made wrong decisions at bad times, and I turned you into me.

1. Minimize Your Options: When faced with the decision of choosing a spice or drink, for example, insist on keeping your options to a minimum. We like having a variety of choices because it feels luxurious and it gives the feeling that we can change our minds later, in case we make the wrong decision. But most times, changing your decision will only leave you feeling negative (self-blame) and knock your confidence. When you limit your options to things you are comfortable or confident with, then your decisions will lead to less regret.

Donald Trump is the president of the United States. Many people think he is incompetent, arrogant, and narcissistic. They think he’s the worst president we’ve ever had in the history of our country. While still others (most of my family, frankly) have the perspective that he’s strong, determined, and a great leader. They think he’s exactly what the country needs most right now. Who’s right? What if neither are right? What if neither are wrong? What if everyone got to have their own thoughts and we didn’t have to agree? Imagine what this one teaching alone could do to your marriage. You and your partner can have different perspectives regarding the same circumstance and neither of you have to be wrong. You don’t have to agree, but what you do need is have respect for one another’s perspectives, without needing it to be the same as your own. When you stop trying to be right, you’re not actively trying to make your partner wrong. From that place there’s freedom, love, and respect inside the relationship that didn’t exist before when you believed your thoughts as absolute, unequivocal truth. And the best news of all is that no one can think for you and no one can force you to think or believe anything you don’t want to think or believe. You get to create your own thoughts, your own perspectives. You do. So does your husband. Don’t fight it. That’s like arguing with reality and you will always lose that argument – 100% of the time. Embrace it. Become conscious about it. You get to choose how you want to think about any circumstance. For emphasis, I’ll say that again: You get to choose how you want to think about any circumstance. Just think about how powerful that is. Now let everyone else off the hook from needing to have the same perspective.

From a strictly realistic perspective, should we bet on infinite life and endless consequences to our actions? Pascal would argue that our answer must be a resounding „Yes!“ We might as well assume that there will be a future continuity of our personal consciousness, however changed, however disembodied or re-embodied, however connected or disconnected we remain to the „self“ we experience in this life. If we make that bet on our own future lives, then we will prepare in whatever way we can to assure that we continue in a good way, in a better embodiment and environment. We will become truly responsible for our thoughts and our acts. Even though we may not remember the previous-life self who made those preparations, we certainly will want to enjoy the results. If our bet is misplaced, and our preparations have no effect because we actually do enter oblivion at death, we will simply not exist to regret having made them. But if we wrongly bet on noncontinuity and therefore do not prepare for the future and have to face it unprepared, then we may suffer seriously in our next existence, and we will very much regret our decision. Even if we don‘t remember making it, don‘t know why we are suffering, don‘t know how to fault ourselves for being so unconscious in our previous life, we will still suffer and regret. Pascal‘s wager is therefore a very safe bet – it has a clear-cut positive outcome. Whether our personal life is really terminal at death or in fact infinite in continuity, if we bet, like Pascal, on the existence of our life after death, in whatever form, we will be in the best possible position, however things turn out. (pp. 7-8, The Nature of Reality)

We’re foolish, idealogical creatures at 18. We have no idea what we want out of life, but it’s the time when we’re the most sure that we do. It’s almost comical; never again will you be so thoroughly convinced of something based on so little experience. Which is why we make impetuous decisions, life-altering decisions we later come to regret. Because we’re so sure, and then so surprised at how wrong we were. Surprised and angry, really, because everyone else was right. And if there’s anything universally true about youth, it’s that we resent the absence of experience and wisdom that others have accumulated before us. We want to stubbornly believe we were born with that wisdom, like it’s an inherent trait, and we can’t stand the idea that everyone else watches us stumble without it.

Wrong choices and unwise decisions result in failure and regret.

It’s when I’m fuzzy about where I’m headed that I start to say yes to things willy-nilly. And I’ve been burned enough times by FOMO-based and ego-based decision-making to know that I’ll always regret choosing to do something for the wrong reason.

You’ve probably heard “No one ever lay on their deathbed wishing for another day of work.” I think this saying is wrong, and perhaps a little dangerous because of what it implies. First, I believe a great many people do regret not having treated their life with more purpose, and would give anything to have one more chance to approach it with the kind of intention and conviction that imminent death makes palpable. They know that they consistently ignored small twinges of intuition, inspiration, and insight. They recall how they cowered away from risk in favor of comfort. They spent their days regretting their past decisions rather than taking aggressive steps to redirect their life in a more hopeful direction.

In life, time can't stand still and it's unrealistic to attempt to create a state where it does. There again, time passes all too quickly and lives are too short to make the wrong decisions and have regrets.

I looked up at the sky and wondered, "God, just once, give me another chance to gather the scattered pages of my life.

I can’t be your king.” As reasons go, it’s a good one. But I know there’s more behind it, and that’s what I want. An actual explanation. “So, if I were just a simple girl, from a simple family, and not the princess…?” Rhys’s hand finds my waist, and he nudges me back until our faces are as close as they were before. “I wouldn’t be able to walk away from you.” He lets out a self-deprecating sort of laugh. “What am I saying? I know better, and I still haven’t been able to walk away.” My heart breaks a little. Why must life be so unfair? Why was Braeton taken from me; why was I sent in his place? I don’t want to be queen—I don’t want to choose our king. I just want Rhys. “Just for a few minutes, can’t we pretend there isn’t a title attached to my name?” I whisper, running my fingers through the damp hair at the nape of his neck. “Would that be so wrong?” “It would be,” Rhys answers, his voice full of conviction. Yet his hand tightens at my side, drawing me even closer, his physical response at odds with his answer. His eyes are on mine, the intimacy of it almost too much to bear. “But I don’t have the will to stop you right now. If I am what you want, then I give myself to you. However, please know these fleeting minutes are all we have.” I lick my lips, and his eyes follow the movement. My breaths are short and fast, and Rhys’s fingers press into my side in the most intoxicating way. Making a decision I’ll likely regret, I slowly pull back. Disappointment flashes in Rhys’s green eyes when I put space between us, but I stand strong. “If minutes are all you can give me, I won’t waste them now,” I tell him softly. “I’ll save them, hide them away. Outwardly, I will keep our relationship purely platonic, but sometime—when I need you the most—I’ll make my request.” “Amalia…” Rhys says, sounding pained. Unable to help myself, I lean in and press the briefest kiss to the very corner of his lips. For a moment, I wonder if the knight is going to lock his arms around me, hold me here, convince me to use those minutes now. But he doesn’t. “You can deduct a second from my total,” I tease softly when I pull back. I then climb out of the hot spring, dripping water along the stone.

More isn’t always better. The abundance of choices doesn’t bring freedom—it breeds paralysis. The weight of unmade decisions is heavier than the regret of a wrong one. Sometimes, the best way forward is to limit your options.