IF ONLY

Life offers a second opportunity, and it’s called tomorrow

“The ways we miss our lives are life”
Randall Jarrell

“The unexamined life is surely worth living, but is the unlived life worth examining?” The British psychoanalyst Adam Phillips asks this seemingly strange question at the beginning of his book Missing Out: In Praise of the Unlived Life. This question becomes significant, he asserts, when we discover how much of our thinking is devoted to the life we haven’t lived, the life we continue to experience in our thoughts as a shadow that stalks the life we live. The unlived life is the life that could have been ours, the chances we didn’t take and the opportunities we missed.

Phillips adds: “We discover these unlived lives most obviously in our envy of other people, and in the conscious (and unconscious) demands we make on our children to become something that was beyond us.” And there are also people whose lives are consumed by the nagging story of the life they were unable to live.

One of the sad by-products of Darwin’s theory is acceptance of the fact that as individuals belonging to a particular species, there is nothing unique about us. We see ourselves as unique only in order to give meaning to our lives. The sense of uniqueness that begins with parental education is reinforced by the consumer culture, which entirely depends on its ability to meet the ostensibly “unique” needs of its subjects. Regret sets in when these needs are not met.

In the past, especially in cultures with a stricter code of conduct (for example, arranged marriages and limited freedom to choose a lifestyle), we had fewer opportunities for regret. In an achievement-oriented society that sanctifies the freedom of choice, it is difficult to suddenly rid oneself of remorse. When the individual is pushed to achieve everything possible, it seems that precisely there, in the life we didn’t live, we could have been even more unique. Reality almost always disappoints in the end, and regret becomes unavoidable. Research in this area distinguishes between regret that stems from action (something we did and wish we hadn’t done) and regret that results from inaction or omission (something we didn’t do and would be happy to have done).

Studies show that in the short term, regret stemming from action (choosing an unsuitable job) is greater than regret from inaction (not completing studies). However, in the long term, when respondents are asked about their biggest regrets in life, they focus on what they refrained from doing—the man or woman they didn’t approach, the job they didn’t pursue, the failure to properly part from their parents before they died. Studies also indicate that we tend to most strongly regret inaction related to what we perceive as representing a great opportunity: first and foremost, a missed educational opportunity, followed in distant second place by a missed career opportunity. Next, in descending magnitude of remorse, are romantic relations, parenthood, self-development and use of leisure time.

The direct reason that regret stemming from an action is less troubling than regret stemming from inaction is the fact that here we at least have a chance to rectify the results of the action (quitting an unsuitable job we chose). On the other hand, we forever carry in our minds the woman or man we didn’t approach. Another explanation of the intensity of regret over inaction is that the consequences of our action are limited and final, while the results of inaction are only limited by the imagination of those who assess them and tend to be magnified to unreasonable proportions.

Nonetheless, the findings of all of the researchers on this important topic are based on the response of healthy participants, some of them students who are too young to assess their lives in proper perspective. This raises the simple question: would their responses change at the end of their days? And if reliability is our guiding light, it would be desirable, perhaps, to check the answer with those who know their days are numbered.

This is precisely what Bronnie Ware did. Ware, an Australian palliative nurse, provided care for terminal patients who returned to their homes to die, and thus learned about the biggest regrets that occupied them during the final weeks of their lives. She documented their insights in a blog that later became a book (The Top Five Regrets of the Dying). In her book, Ware describes the clarity of introspection that people gain during their final days. She tells how she soon discovered that the topics that arose in her conversations with her patients, the regrets they expressed and the things they would have done differently perhaps, were common to almost everyone. And these are the five most common regrets Ware heard from people who knew they would no longer be able to live their unlived lives:

1 I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.

This is the top regret. “When people realize that their life is almost over and look back clearly on it, it is easy to see how many dreams have gone unfulfilled,” Ware says in her blog. “Most people had not honoured even a half of their dreams and had to die knowing that it was due to choices they had made, or not made … Health brings a freedom very few realize, until they no longer have it.”

2 I wish I hadn’t worked so hard.

All of the men she nursed, without exception, expressed this regret. “They missed their children’s youth and their partner’s companionship. Women also spoke of this regret. But as most were from an older generation, many of the female patients had not been breadwinners.” Ware says in summary: “All of the men I nursed deeply regretted spending so much of their lives on the treadmill of a work existence.”

3 I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.

Ware further explains in her blog: “Many people suppressed their feelings in order to keep peace with others. As a result, they settled for a mediocre existence and never became who they were truly capable of becoming.” In fact, the former palliative nurse claims, some of the illnesses they developed were attributable to the festering bitterness and resentment they felt. “We cannot control the reactions of others. However, although people may initially react when you change the way you are by speaking honestly, in the end it raises the relationship to a whole new and healthier level,” she advises.

4 I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.

Ware’s patients acknowledged that they hadn’t appreciated the important benefit of keeping up with old friends until it was too late. Many were so caught up in their own lives that they let “golden friendships” slip away from them over the years. Many regretted not having devoted the time to friendships that they deserved.

“Everyone misses their friends when they are dying,” Ware says, noting that “it is common for anyone in a busy lifestyle to let friendships slip.” Money and status suddenly lose their luster when death approaches. “It all comes down to love and relationships in the end,” she concludes. “That is all that remains in the final weeks, love and relationships.”

5 I wish that I had let myself be happier.

Ware was surprised by this regret, which was shared by many of her patients. “Many did not realize until the end that happiness is a choice. They had stayed stuck in old patterns and habits. The so-called ‘comfort’ of familiarity overflowed into their emotions, as well as their physical lives. Fear of change had them pretending to others, and to their selves, that they were content. When deep within, they longed to laugh properly and have silliness in their life again.”