I'm trying to practice "letting emotional move through me," as Kristine Would, at Shakespeare & Company, suggested; let it move through me without trying to wrest meaning from any given emotional hiccup that may lodge in my chest and ruin a perfectly glorious, sunny day, such as today.
How many of us pretend to the world that we DON'T sweat the little things? I've seen evidence of this on Match.com, among other places. Often, when I would ask a Match.com correspondent what moments in her past she may have regretted, she tells me that she 'harbors no regrets. I'm interested in the future and what life has to offer.' No shit. Aren't we all? No regrets? Balony. And a wee bit boring. To have no regrets is to remain an adolescent. And, for God's sake, regrets are not all bad. They keep us humble, respectful of one's own continual need for mindfulness and compassionate for the weaknesses of others. Hearing about someone's regrets can be a quick test of the state of their soul. No regrets? No soul.