Comments

A few weeks ago, I published a blogpost that was titled "Self-criticism". In it, I took my guard down to reveal something of the secret inner me - often vulnerable and self-admonishing. Putting it out there, I had no idea how this post might be received by other bloggers and visitors.

Afterwards, I was quite relieved to read the thoughtful remarks that followed. Other people reflected on their own vulnerabilities and how they try to deal with past mistakes. It was reassuring to discover that I am not the only one who self-flagellates, wrestling with past blunders. Leaving the past behind is clearly not as straightforward as it says on the tin.

⦿

Bob from South Carolina said, "Even though I KNOW I cannot go back in time and change my stupidity into something better, I still long for the ability to try." In a similar vein , Red from Red Deer, Canada said,"I experience similar regrets. It seems the same ones come up all the time. I would bet that most of your commenters experience the same regrets."

A few Kylies visit this blog and one of them suggested that we can learn from the blunder/regret cycle: "Any critical voice we experience in our young lives becomes a harsh inner critic. I think it would be pretty much ubiquitous in your generation. With a great deal of practice, I have become much better at choosing my words and reactions carefully, though my face usually gives me away."

Bruce in Prescott Valley, Arizona is generally an upbeat kind of fellow. He said, "Well, we all try after the fact. But the fact is it's always AFTER the fact. So, what the hell, I guess we just have to live with it." And of course that is what we all do  - forever seeking to keep those damned skeletons locked up in their respective cupboards.

Recently retired Nurse Pixie in the suburbs of Edmonton, Canada reflected. "There are so many things that I've said and done that I wish I could take back. I'm awake right now, instead of sleeping, because of that very thing. My sisters have a hard time with the truth, especially from me. Sigh. Eventually my brain will give in and shut up."

Down in Adelaide, South Australia Elsie (aka River) admitted, "You are not alone in this, I do it too, though not so much these days. I'm more able to lock away those thoughts and get on with being the me I am today."

Graham on The Isle of Lewis off the coast of Scotland said, "That is an incredibly simple set of words for an immensely complicated set of circumstances. I would venture a guess that a lot depends on whether one is a spontaneous or considered sort of person. I think that most of my regrettable gaffes occurred when I was being spontaneous. Spontaneity is not generally part of my nature which can make me dull and boring but generally 'safe'. As to which is better I have no idea but I would say that spontaneous people are, in my opinion, far more interesting than those who over-consider things."

Monica, commenting from a town in Sweden, said, "Graham's comment strikes a chord for me - I probably have more of a "better-safe-than-sorry" kind of character as well. (That's not the same as no regrets, mind.) Either way, you're right of course that we can't go back in time. At best, we may learn from the past for our way forward."

Here's ADDY in West London: "I think those of us with a conscience will inevitably wish to go back and re-do or re-say things. I certainly do. The frustrating thing is, we can't, but at least we have the wisdom to know we shouldn't have said or done it. There must be a lot of people, though, who don't have that conscience in the first place."

Meike in Ludwisburg, Germany  has been commenting on this blog since 2008 and I always appreciate her well-considered remarks: "Of course you are not alone in this, Neil, and I suppose the question was a rhetorical one. I have regrets, too, but thankfully, there are not too many, and most of the time I can live with them pretty well. Every now and then, though, they pop up, and I have been shedding hot tears over stuff I cannot change - I can only try to be better than that."

Recently bereaved Andrew in Melbourne, Australia said, "Aside from wishing I had shown my late partner much more verbal love, I have few regrets. You do what you do at the time for certain reasons. You are thinking and speaking on the fly. How can that be perfect?"

David (aka Travel Penguin) in Washington D.C. admitted, "I do that to myself. A quick retort, maybe intended as funny, maybe just the first thing that entered my mind comes out, and I spend years replaying the event. Long after the other person has forgotten, forgiven, or died."

From Ramsey on The Isle of Man came this comment from JayCee: "I am black and blue from constantly beating myself up. Perhaps, as I seem to be forgetting more and more things these days, I may eventually forget all my bad moments."

Ellen from Illinois mused,  "I like what Maya Angelou says, "Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.” Hopefully, we all learn from our regrets..."

Dave in south western Ireland put it simply: "I have a foreman in my head always criticizing me and he never mentions the good times and my achievements."

Thinking of  regrets and bad memories that gnaw at him, here's the comment left by my fellow Yorkshireman, Tasker Dunham: "I am like that, too, and as a socially awkward and even a socially incompetent person I have loads of them. The thing is, others who were there often don't remember, even if they thought anything of them at the time."

Meantime, Steve Reed in West London remarked, "You can't revise the past, but I think being self-aware enough to know you made a mistake is a huge thing. If you learn something from the process, that's valuable, and even just being contrite softens and humanizes us a bit, I think."

Former schoolteacher Michael in Virginia said, "I am totally like you in that I am very critical of myself. Usually I keep it to myself, but occasionally I will mutter something where I am cutting myself down. I try and not do it, but it still comes out. Like you said, we are who we are, and I have always lacked confidence whereas I think my brother has way too much of it."

Finally, here's Tom denying my premise that fundamentally we cannot change who we are - "For the most part people cannot help who they are? Well, if you believe that, then you won't change. But if you're more in the self-determination, free will camp, as I am, then you can change and improve and ... be what you want to be." But I wonder, could we ever really be somebody else?

⦿

Comments are added to blogposts and usually that is the last we see of them but plenty of them deserve to be cherished and revisited. They are very often as much a part of this blogging process as the blogposts themselves and add another rich dimension to it all. I think the various comments I have re-broadcasted here prove that point.