I asked someone what she would have done differently if she had the luxury of going back in time to edit the hours of her life, thus far. “Nothing,” she instantly answered, without blinking.
Uh, I can come up with plenty of things she should have done differently, just off the top of my head and in the years I’ve known her. And I’m a blinker.
One September or October, someone else, who had just observed Yom Kippur, unsolicitedly told me that she had absolutely nothing to atone for. So what’d she do all day?
I’m slightly freaked out by the earthlings who self-identify as angels, who don’t even regret not having any regrets. Flawless superhumans who frequently have flimsy memories and dole out the most avoidable damage.
If I could month-by-month edit my own personal history, I’d change about half of what I did and didn’t do between the ages of 9 and 21. For starters, I would have taken the piano lessons much more seriously, I would have spent more time looking where I was going so I wouldn’t have fallen down on concrete as much,
I would have accepted more invitations. After knocking out that time block, I’d revise about a fourth of the decisions I’ve made and reactions I’ve released in the years since then. Notice how there’s been less to amend as the time blocks have trickled by. Perfection brokers miss out on the taste of progress.