Discarding Regrets

I often wonder, when I look back on this site, what others are going to think about it.

Sure, I write as if I'm talking to someone in particular, but I write for me.

Yet, if I have, say, someone working for me, or someone I'm mentoring, or someone investing in me, and they see me as human, that I've struggled, that I've succeeded, that I've failed, that I've learned, will they think less of me because they know my flaws along with the story I project? I've had a couple people recently actually say the words, "You seem so strong, but you're struggling, too," to my face, and I'm puzzled with the why of the first part, and the why I wouldn't be with the second part. I write things here that are true at the time, and reread them days, weeks, months, years later and wonder what the hell I was thinking when I wrote it. I grow. I regress. I consider. I reconsider. I change my mind. The whole process is part of being human.

And yet, I still wonder. I wonder if I'm going to have regrets for posting something, if that something is going to be offensive to someone though I said the something in an innocent way. Good lord is that moment going to suck. Good lord has that moment sucked.

Living without regrets seems like a great way to live, but I do not believe that one can truly make the absolute best choice every time. A local maximum good choice every time, sure; the best choice one could make given the information they had at the time, yes; the absolute best choice very time, no.

So, my plan for this year, when I wonder if I'm making the right decision, when I wonder if being fully open and honest with people is the right choice, is to remember, this is who I am, strengths and flaws and all, and to remember what I thought when I joined the guys for a topless photo-shoot on Union Glacier this past December, "I was wondering if I'm going to look back on this and regret it when I'm older, and then I remember, I'm already older, and I don't regret it."

Come on, 2022, let's do this.