How come the fear of regret doesn’t push us harder? We all know our time on this earth is limited. We all read an article somewhere about how life expectancy keeps getting longer. We know people who have lived to ninety. We have plenty of time to do what we want when we retire at seventy. If we can retire at seventy, but that’s a whole different story.
I’ve taken a series of sabbaticals throughout my life. I guess I knew what I was doing at the time wasn’t working and I wanted something more. The problem was I didn’t have the guts or the smarts to see it through. I always caved and went back to work.
The first time I must admit I went back to work for a dream job. It was a chance to build race cars. Building and working on race cars is something I did for free for a long time, and I had gone back to work on a whim after a sabbatical because I needed the money. I went back to my old job for a quick influx of cash. I knew I wanted out and wanted to start my own business. I just needed enough to get me on my way.
Then a month after I went back to work I got offered my dream job. I threw away my dream of being my own boss and designing my own life to follow my childhood dream of being paid to work on race cars.
I can’t trash that particular job. I can’t trash any job I’ve had.
Over the years, I’ve met some great people and learned a ton about myself and life.
Had I not taken my racing dream job, that would be my point of regret. I knew I didn’t want to go to the grave with regret. The self-help gurus I listened to daily drilled into me how to never live with regret.
The Self-help gurus shtick of regret.
The self-help community throws around the fear of regret to the point of it almost being cliché. The shtick goes something like this, “Ask a person on their deathbed if they have any regrets.” “The dying man or woman replies ‘Only one.’ ‘I wish I’d done this or that with my life.’ ‘I wish I would have had the courage to do more.’”
I’ve heard it some many times it makes me sick. So, then I ask, how come the fear of regret hasn’t pushed the majority harder to live the life they want to live?
How come only a select few realize life design is possible? And, the traditional job route of retiring by 65 or 70 years old was designed for us to make sure a small percentage of society benefits from us believing it.
The gurus have been telling us not to go to our deathbed with regret, but so many of us still do.
It’s probably because we genuinely don’t believe in regret. Or, we believe a life without regret doesn’t exist. Society tells us this is the path to take to happiness and we buy in.
It’s partially not our fault. It’s what society sells us at birth. But, if we know life design is possible, there are stories of people doing it all over the place, why don’t we jump on their bandwagon and make it happen for ourselves?
Everyone wants to win the lottery. What for?
Here is a good point. Most of us would love to win the lottery. Having all that money energizes something to go out and buy a lottery ticket to have a chance. The odds are against you. The odds are so bad; it’s more likely to be struck by lightning than hit the jackpot. Yet, so many still play just for the possibility. What does the lottery promise? What do we hope to do with all that money? Are we just going to throw it on the floor so we can roll around in it?
No.
Is it because we believe it’s only for a select few?
Do we think the ones who quit their jobs to do something they’ve always wanted to do are in some way special? Do they deserve it because they come from privilege or do they have parents footing the bill? Are they lazy because they won’t work as hard as the rest of us?
The fact is designing the life you want to live for everyone. There is no privilege when it comes to avoiding regret. The only difference between them and you is they believed they could do it and they took the time and put in the effort to make it happen.
I compare this to the YouTube travel Vloggers. Many of these people ditch everything. Sell off most of their possessions to afford long-term travel around the world. Many left high-paying jobs because they knew working for the next thirty or forty years wasn’t going to suit them. They knew what they wanted and figured out a plan to get it.
Or is it we don’t slow down long enough to dream?
Or, are we so busy with our jobs and lives there is no time to slow down and even think about creating a plan? We are a society on the go. We’re always working long hours because there is always so much to be done. We’ve always got something to do.
We need to wait in line at George Web for our free cheeseburger. We need to go to Walmart to get, well … socks. We never afford ourselves the ability to dream and then put the plan in motion. We believe if we don’t do it someone will call us out on being lazy. Our neighbor in the cubicle next to us works from seven in the morning until nine at night, so we need to do it also to keep up. ‘You lazy piece of crap, how dare you to go home after only ten hours when you’re only getting paid for eight.’ We can’t take a breather between jobs because that would be lazy. We can’t take a break between jobs because that would show a gap in our polished resume. We might not get hired to follow the same routine again.
Start dreaming and make the fear of regret scare the hell out of you.
Well, I’m going to tell you to let regret scare the hell out of you. Promise yourself that you won’t be on your deathbed and regret not living the life you want to live. Get out and dream big. Don’t wait for the lottery win to tell you it’s okay to shoot for a better life. Don’t be content with what society sells you because you believe life design is for someone else. Don’t think it’s going to be easy though, but it might not be as hard as you think. Besides how much better would it feel when you accomplish something after working hard at it?
Do you think lottery winners have a sense of accomplishment? (who cares about accomplishment right … we’re talking about 90 million dollars after taxes)
Just let the fear of regret scare the hell out of you.
Til next time,
Kevin