Regret

The clay dust in the corner.

Regret is one of those quiet things that hang around the shop like clay dust in the corners. You do not always notice it at first. It settles in slowly until one day you catch yourself standing still, looking at a pot you never finished, or a kiln that has not been rebuilt yet, and you feel that small twinge in your chest. That little voice says, “You should have done it already.” I try not to feed that voice too much. Still, it gets loud on certain days when the to-do list is longer than the time I have, and the weight of what I put off starts to press on me.

Most of my regrets are not from things I tried and failed at. They come from the things I delayed or talked myself out of doing. The workshop I never applied to, the story I never wrote, the person I never followed up with after a good conversation at a show. These missed chances do not always feel big in the moment. Sometimes it is just telling yourself you will do it later, then realizing much later that the moment passed and the opportunity might not return. I try to remind myself that regret is not the same as failure. It is more like a mark on the map that says, “You were supposed to pass through here.”

The good thing is regret can also point to what still matters. It can be a signpost for what needs attention now. If I regret not finishing the kiln, that tells me I care about the kiln. If I regret not spending more time writing or reaching out to someone, that tells me what is important to me. Regret is not the enemy. It is more like a compass that keeps nudging you back toward the work and the life you mean to live. The trouble starts when you ignore it too long or let it turn into shame.

Today I try to see regret as a prompt. A question instead of a judgment. “Is there something I still want to do?” If the answer is yes, I try to make even a small move toward it. Sometimes it is just writing the first line or trimming one pot or stacking a few bricks. I cannot fix every regret, but I can pay attention to where they point me. Most of the time, they point back to the wheel, back to the kiln, back to the people I care about. I may not always get it right, but I can show up and begin again. That is good enough for today.

If I were living yesterday a second time, I would have:

Not worried so much about the small things.

Things I am grateful for:

The lovely dinner my wife made after a long day at the paper factory.

30-Day Abundance Challenge by Carolina Perez Sanz, Day 18:

I have an abundance of humor. I use it in stressful situations to relieve tension. My teammate and I had a good chuckle while troubleshooting a challenging problem.

If I get to live to be 86, I only have:

13071 days left.