Take the time to RSVP
Regrets only
Published On: September 09, 2010
Now, when a R.S.V.P. request comes with an invite, it demands attention. Respond! React! Decide! The host is saying, “I have put a lot of time, money, energy, thought and care into planning this event. I carefully chose you as one of the guests, and I need you to tell me what you are going to do.” I like that.
It got me thinking. Let’s take regrets in general. I always thought that I don’t regret anything I’ve done in my life because I’ve learned from it. But that’s not entirely true. I regret hurting people’s feelings. I regret deciding not to go out because I was too tired. I regret wasting money. I regret not standing up to people who said something that offended me or someone I care about.
When you have regrets, you are regretting laziness in a sense. You are not living, breathing, experimenting, challenging—it’s a lethargic way to live, somewhat similar to the way a Regrets Only invitation is wimpy. You know, it’s alright if you come; it’s alright if you don’t.
Or from a different perspective, it’s like eating off the buffet. Basically, you’re being told what to get, given select choices, and you’re going to feel guilty because you got too much or angry because you never found what you wanted. See—it breeds regret!
Granted, sometimes, it’s okay to just let things happen. In nice restaurants, I do turn things over to the waiter or chef—let them advise what’s best rather than dictating some specific regime of no carbs, no fat, no flavor. But in relinquishing control here, you are actually make a choice to put yourself in another’s hands—which can be a good risk.
Generally, we need to deliberate and decide in order to live fulfilled. R.S.V.P. to life, so to speak.
I think all the country music songwriters have got this one figured out. Think about Garth Brooks bemoaning all he would have lost “had he missed the dance.” Lee Ann Wommack singing to America’s youth—“I hope you dance.” Tim McGraw wailing, “Live like you were dying.”
Every country song seems to break it down into that familiar dance, live, love theme. If not, you will regret—the loss of your dog, your woman, your man...And you’ll end up sitting on a bar stool, staring at a bottle of whiskey, moaning to the bartender...I know you’ve heard this tune before.
You can’t enjoy the dance of life with regrets only. It’s almost embarrassing how simple and ancient these themes are. I remember reading Spenser’s Faerie Queene in high school. I loathed it—found it boring. But looking back, it’s funny how the story of the RedCross Knight resonates into life today.
The RedCross Knight couldn’t be a real knight until he left the path. He needed to confront fear and the unknown in order to deserve his title. He had to face the dragon. He couldn’t just shuffle through life without facing demons. He had to be ready to die.
Living like it’s your last day on earth doesn’t mean living recklessly, as I once hoped it did. I thought that would be great to do—spend all your money, eat and drink too much, do thing you COULDN’T regret because you wouldn’t be around to regret them. The whole carpe diem—“gather ye rosebuds while ye may” kind of living.
To the contrary, living like you’re dying (and we all ARE dying, you know) doesn’t mean riding wildly through life, bareback atop a wild horse, arms flailing with sword overhead, jumping from adventure to adventure, going wherever life may lead you. It’s quite the opposite.
It’s about taking deliberate action. Deciding, accepting and preparing. It’s time for me to R.S.V.P. I need to save some money for that wild vacation, I think.
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