We each make our choices and who can truly say which choice is right or wrong.....

Regrets - I Have A Few

I have often  heard, and often used the phrase “No regrets!”. Yet, as alluring as a living without regrets philosophy sounds, it’s not always so easy to live up to! I regret missed opportunities. I regret things that made me feel dumb. I regret getting into bad relationships, or making mistakes in  past relationships, be they familial and/or personal. I regret losing my family due to walls that they chose to build instead of bridges that they should have walked over. I regret that they issued consequences that resulted in discontinued sibling relationships.  I regret not telling someone I loved them more before they died. I regret not spending my time more wisely and accomplishing more. I regret procrastinating, not forming better habits, eating too many caramels, not yet writing the novel I have always wanted to write, not reading all the books I plan to read, not learning a new language, and, most importantly, not experiencing every moment to the fullest. 

Sometimes my regret can be all consuming - I regret the choices I made, because I worry that I should have made other choices. I think I should have done something better, but didn’t. Years ago, I should have chosen a better husband, but didn’t. I should have taken that more exciting but risky job, but didn’t. I should have been more disciplined, but was not.

I regret these choices, which are in the past and can’t be changed, because I compare them to an ideal path along my life journey that I think I should have taken. I have an idea in my head of what could have been, if only I had made a different choice.

The problem is, of course,  that I can't change those choices. So I keep comparing the unchangeable choices I actually made, to an ideal. A fantasy. My choices can’t be changed, and they will never be as good as the ideal. The unchangeable choices I made will always be worse.  I have a hard time not thinking about a bad choice because of how it conflicts with my self-identity. I have this idea of who I am: I'm a good person. I'm smart,  competent, and good-hearted. I make the best choices I can, of course, because I'm a good person. And even if I have moments of self-doubt and periods of a bad self-image, I still think that I am basically a good person. And so when someone else attacks my identity — insults my competence, misunderstands me, calls me a liar, says that my word means nothing — it hurts! I get angry and defensive. And I can’t stop thinking about these offenses.

When I believe I have made a mistake, this also is an attack on my self-identity. I made a bad choice - why can’t I have been a better person and made a better choice? This bad choice conflicts with my idea that I am a good person. And so the problem spins around and around in my head, without resolution. There’s no way to solve this problem, because the bad choice can’t be changed and I can’t resolve the conflict with my self-identity. It is so hard to let go of regret and in trying to find a way to let it go I now realize that I have compared my past choices to an ideal and I therefore have an ideal that conflicts with the idea of those bad choices These ideals are not reality but are instead my fantasy of how I'd like reality to go. They’re made up, and not helpful and these ideals continually cause me anguish. So I have now had to learn to let go of the ideal and finally embrace reality.

The choices I made in the past are over and done with, and I can't change them. But, in fact there’s some good in the choices, if I choose to see it. Being able to make a choice at all is an amazing thing, as is being alive and learning from my experiences. And I can now be satisfied with my choices and see them as “good enough” instead of always hoping for the perfect choices. Some choices will be great, some won’t be perfect, and I can now embrace the entire range of choices I make. I am not actually always good, and in fact my identity can encompass a whole range: I am sometimes good, sometimes not, and sometimes somewhere in between. I make mistakes, I do good things, I care, I am sometimes selfish, I am honest, I sometimes am not totally honest. I am all of it, and so making a bad choice isn’t in conflict with that more flexible and realistic self-identity. It is actually a part of it.

This is all easier said than done, but when I find myself obsessing over past choices, I can  now recognize that I'm falling into this pattern, realize that there’s some ideal I'm comparing my choices and myself to, and  then let go of these perfect ideals and embrace a wider range of reality.

This is a constant practice, but it helps me to not look for perfection, not constantly review my past, but instead to find satisfaction in what I've done and focus on what I am doing now. Regrets are a part of  life, whether I want them or not. But by looking into the cause of my regrets, and embracing the wide range of reality, I can now learn to be satisfied with my choices, happier with the past and happier in the present moment.

And that is a choice I won’t regret.

Every day, in every way, we can learn to become better and better as we follow the twisting paths of our life journey.....

Thought For The Day:
When I learned to be grateful to be the person that I see in the mirror every day, my feelings of dissatisfaction, discontentment, and disappointment disappeared, and with them, every dissatisfying, discontenting and disappointing circumstance in my life has become manageable and/or even disappeared.

New beginnings begin within us, even if they have come about by external opportunities....

Letting Go To New Beginnings

Having been a single parent of two (now adult) children, I know first-hand the difficulties single parents face. Raising healthy, happy and confident children is crucial to their adult years and this is true for both sons and daughters.

My perspective comes from raising my children with zero input (mentally, emotionally and financially) from their father, so, when it was suggested that I write a piece on my experience as a single mother who raised a strong capable and confident son, I was eager to do so. 

I did not have different rules or guidelines for my children. I raised them both - son and daughter - as individuals. When all was said and done, the same rules applied and the same challenges were faced with both. Nevertheless, many of my actions and reactions as a mother sometimes had a larger impact on my son than my daughter.

As I wanted my son to become a good man there were several key factors that I realized would help or hinder along his road to manhood. First and foremost, I consciously tried to never compare my son to his father unless it was in a positive light - my son is now a successful Chartered Accountant and he certainly inherited his father's aptitude for numbers! The problems and issues that led to his father being absent in his life were not my son's fault and I tried to make sure that the actions of my parenting never cast a shadow on his self-worth.

I also kept in mind that every male I brought into my children's life, and especially my son's life, was a potential role model. As a mother I knew I could influence my daughter's life the most, but that I would also influence my son's in many ways, both negatively and positively. I tried to know the morals and values that other people had, and the impact those values would have on my son. This included family as well as friends. I quickly realized that as a young boy, my son was better off without a male role model than with the wrong male role model. I tried to be cautious who I allowed to influence my son. There were volunteers (hockey coaches, friends, family members) but few were allowed into his life. As the lifestyle of friends and family also would impact my son, I tried to be very careful what I 'implied' that I approved of. I did not always agree with the choices that my relatives and/or friends made, but I loved them anyway, and that was fine, but I made sure that my son lived by my values - not those of others. 

In order to be able to raise my children to be strong, confident and empowered, I tried to show them that I believed in them and in their judgment. Children - especially sons - need to have faith in their judgment and my son needed to know that I had faith in him as well. As a mother, I tried hard to not make his decisions for him by attempting to provide him with the skills and the tools to make the right decisions himself. I felt that that was my duty as a parent. I know that I made my mistakes in this regard, in my 'mothering' career, but in the end I believe that I taught my children that making mistakes, and learning from those mistakes, is what eventually leads to making the right choices in the long term. Most of all, I tried to teach my children to own their responsibility. This was especially true for my son. I believe that it was my duty to guide and to teach - not to live his life for him.

A young boy always seeks approval from a single mother and I tried to make certain that my son knew that I would listen and guide, but that, in the end, he was responsible for making his own decisions and that he knew that if he checked his heart and conscience, he would make the right choices. I often heard things I didn't want to hear, and was often asked questions that I was not always comfortable answering, but I knew I needed to be the one to rise to the occasion and be the ONE he knew he could ultimately turn to. I did not allow him to use the excuse that he did not have a father to turn to - I was both his mother and his father - and I tried to show him that his self worth was not tied to his father being absent in our home. One of my many goals as a mother was to show my son that no matter what occurred in his life, he, and he alone, could be whoever he set his mind to be. He didn't need to worry about who others were or how others lived. He only needed to be proud of who he was. 

One of the most important things that I wanted to do was to let my children know that they could always turn to me - that I loved them unconditionally. I wanted them to be able to count on me to act and not to react. Unfortunately, in this regard, I made several mistakes but, in the end, they both knew that I loved them 'to the moon and back' and reacted in particular situations only because I was fearful for them. I was tested, but in the long run, we grew even closer. It was very necessary, as a single parent, to be honest about my own life. My children - especially my son - wanted to believe that I was a saint and never made a mistake. But  he benefited far more knowing that I was human and did make mistakes, and that I did not consider the mistakes as failures, learned from them and moved on. I needed to make sure that my son saw me living the life that I wanted for him - that he knew the importance of leading and not following. I needed to allow him to test and to learn. 

He learned and he grew and I had to learn to let go when he moved into residence at McMaster University. It wasn't easy. But I was so proud of him - prouder than he could ever know, that he had decided to go to university. As a single mother, it was something that was so far from my grasp, yet something that both my children had the ambition for, and succeeded to do.  After I dropped him off at campus, I had to pull off the highway, on my way home, to control my tears, and again, many times when I drove him back after a weekend or holiday break at home. I was thrilled for him, but I felt so desolate going home without him to an empty apartment, but this was a premonition of what was in the future, and common sense told me that this was a natural progression. He was growing out of me - as had his sister before him - not in a dramatic way, but in a quiet, inevitable growing up kind of way.

Being a single parent was not always an easy road and playing the role of both mother and father had its difficult moments. I am thankful that my son, through it all, has grown up to become the man I wanted him to be. He is good, honest, kind, caring, loving, strong, confident, independent and successful. I am happy for the mother and son journey that we have travelled, the good times, the bad times - bumps and all.  And now the time has come when we will again say goodbye - this time as adults, as his footprints take him to Switzerland - a new life journey, offering new experiences and new adventures, both in his personal growth and along his career path. 

Yes, there have been tears - I will miss him beyond words - but I am so proud of him and so happy that he has this opportunity in front of him.  He is ready to experience all that life has in store for him. The bond between a mother and son is a special one. It remains unchanged by time or distance, and so I can let go again, with much love and respect, as he travels new paths that will continue to lead him to where he wants and needs to be.

Suffering can lead us to reconsider the meaning of our existence.....

Trials and Tribulations

She tried hard to accept her retirement. It seemed that her life had changed overnight from that of a woman with a purpose to that of a nobody. She had carelessly lost touch with all of her working friends, her closest and dearest friend had moved 400 miles away and although they e-mailed and telephoned often it wasn't the same as seeing her everyday. It had always been easy for her to make new friends, but now it was not so easy to keep them in the long term. She missed having a purpose, seeing new people, meeting old friends and the making of new ones.

For the first few months of retirement it felt like she was on vacation. But after a while she became aware that she wasn't on a 'break'. Her retirement was actually her new life - doing small jobs around her apartment, taking long walks around the neighborhood, poking around second hand stores. She had no plans, no hobbies, no other ambitions. She distracted herself by organizing her picture albums and cleaning out closets. She soon realized that there was nothing else for her. She felt unwanted and worthless and very depressed. Her life had truly been filled with children and grandchildren and work. Her family and friends had been so very important but they now all had their own lives to live.  Retirement began to seem like a kind of purgatory - an empty void of boredom and loneliness stretched out in front of her - and it put her at a complete loss.

Struggling to fill her days she built a routine around television schedules. In the early morning she would make herself a cup of tea and then go back to bed with it and watch morning television shows. At around ten o'clock she would shower and dress and then eat her toast in front of a made-for-TV movie. After lunch she would go to the mall and then maybe shop for a few groceries. Other days she would walk in the morning and then fill her afternoons with programs about decorating, cooking, or talk shows. She slowly lost interest in doing anything for herself. Some days she didn't leave her apartment at all - there just didn't seem to be any point. 

Sleeping at night was difficult until she found unexpected solace in a bottle of rum she discovered while cleaning out a cabinet in the dining room hutch. The alcohol made the low hum of anxiety, the lonely and empty feeling she had had since her retirement, evaporate and helped her slide easily into a deep and restful sleep. Night time drinking became a habit for her after that - a secret indulgence. She looked forward to her night time rums and and thought of it as an advantage to living on her own. She could do as she pleased with nobody to judge or criticize her. Often she would bring her dinner to bed, on a tray, as early as eight p.m., have a few drinks afterward and the next thing she would be asleep. Sometimes she woke up in the morning in the same position, with her dinner things spilled all around her and the TV still on. Other times, she would turn off the television, then take the dishes to the kitchen, although usually she couldn't remember having done any of it.

Her drinking didn't affect anyone else, so she never saw any harm in it until she started to get the bloating around her stomach area. She thought that it was something to do with drinking and eating late at night. But in the end it was the pain in her stomach - which she also thought was caused by her bad habits - that sent her to her doctor's office, where she discovered that although she thought she knew herself, it was only when her back was  suddenly against the wall with a cancer diagnosis, that she was able to finally discover what she was truly made of and what she truly meant to her family and friends. Looking back on her life through her lonely retirement, she had only seen pain, mistakes and heartaches, but now, in her darkest times, they taught her to see strength, learned lessons and pride in herself. And so her fight to live began.....