Letter from My Garden 12
The past doesn't repeat itself

"If I had known, I wouldn't have come."
An awkward phrase in broken French, but one that, in the public eye, conveys its intended meaning.

I appeal to "the muses of the past": Piaf, no, nothing at all...
Life is made up of acceptances and renunciations that don't always depend on the person experiencing them. The coup, so often evoked with the same song, is the very illustration of an acceptance that isn't necessarily a choice.

Sometimes life chooses for us, and therefore any regret is useless, as it can't change the past. This can indeed turn into unease, but we can't always live looking back as if to protect ourselves from a pursuit initiated by our old demons. As I mentioned again today in a message to a friend, Stalin said that history doesn't repeat itself.

I think that individual history doesn't repeat itself either. At most, it should allow us to right the ship so as not to make the same mistakes… so, in light of our experiences, let's get back on course whenever we feel our ship is drifting and straying from the right path. This will probably save us too many regrets and allow us to hum: "No, nothing at all, no, I regret nothing."

Often, when I mention that I had a career in the French Foreign Legion, my interlocutor usually tells me they deeply regret not having taken advantage of the opportunity that presented itself to them at a very specific time in their youth. Too often, he also admits that the reason he remained in his relative comfort zone was a woman—now gone from his life—the security of a job, the fear of the unknown, or even the fear of physical exertion in difficult situations.

Regret is the reflection of a missed opportunity, a missed chance, an action left undone, clumsy words or gestures… Unfortunately, regrets are all too common; we don't control everything that happens to us.

Regret has that particular taste of “the long sobs of autumn violins.” The bittersweet scent of mistakes, of nostalgia, for we suffer like a tormented poet, our inner turmoil. Fine words, full of good intentions and wisdom: “what’s done is done,” meant to make us swallow the bitter pill, have no soothing effect.

A more revealing perspective is offered by psychiatrists who claim that “regret is not only a pain of the past but also a suffering of the present.” Even though regret indicates the gap between our processing of a past situation and the one we experience today, it is the emotion that accompanies regret.

Among former legionnaires, with a few very specific exceptions, all proclaim, regarding their time in the green and red ranks: “No, nothing at all, no, I regret nothing…”

To return to my interlocutor who told me he had “career” regrets, I asked him: “What if this day were the last?”

It is interesting to read an informal survey conducted by a nurse, Ms. Bronnie Ware, who presents herself as a “privileged” witness to the final moments of the lives of people, already naturally at the end of their lives, and whom she asked what their regrets might be.

She noted that five forms of regret were dominant:

1. “If only I had had the courage to live my own life, and not the one expected of me…” When a person realizes that the curtain is about to fall, they look back objectively. Past choices can be questioned.

2. “If only I had dared to say what I thought…” Too many people repress their deepest thoughts to avoid conflict and remain at peace with others, even at a cost.

3. “If only I hadn’t worked so much…” Everyone says they didn’t get to see their children grow up and didn’t dedicate enough time to their families…

4. “If only I had stayed in touch with my friends…” Everyone misses their friends when they die.

5 “If only I had given myself permission to be happy”
Happiness is often a choice, one we don't make, trapped as we are in comfortable old habits and outdated beliefs, neutralized by pretense and the fear of change.

If only… This seems to me to be a very interesting message sent out to the living, and one I leave for your consideration.