The Nutrients of Regret

The last time I saw Jack's best friend, Tom, was last January when we were skiing in Park City, Utah... Back then, I was a much smaller person, in a much bigger body.

Today, I'm still plenty plump, yet am utterly ruled by the most petite person I know. Not only does she dominate my day, this little girl is challenging me to grow into a much bigger person than I've ever been.

It was an absolute treat having Tom and (his wife, my godsend) Jill here for a few days, and to watch them get (re)acquainted with Quinn. Mesmerized within minutes, Quinn doled out all her attention on Jill. Maybe she has a way with babies, or perhaps it is something unique to Quinn, but Jill made an indisputable impression on her little "niece."

Although not as impressionable as an infant, I couldn't help but notice that spending time with them left its mark on me too. Being around them was a reminder of what extraordinary people I have known, still know, and so many yet to know.

More than that though, it also felt like a metric for the kind of person I have yet to become. Yet, sometimes regret edges out an awareness for what potential I still hold. . .

How useless and paralyzing the past proves to be when only redolent of regret. The veracity of which I stumbled upon in the most unexpected of places as Tom and Jill observed a beach full of harbor seals with their infant young.

Watching as their mothers plunged below the water's surface for food, and then how they bellied up onto the craggy rocks, the baby seals mimicked their mothers as best they could, often failing first many times over.

Sounds silly, but it was a reminder to me that I don't need to chastise myself endlessly for my foolish feats of the past. Rather, to gather up the knowledge from those experiences, map out what pitfalls I can help Quinn avert, and leave the rest to be learned by molding myself into the person I strive to be, and modeling that for her.

There is much I have learned about what in life, work, love, and friendships is nourishing; and what might look like good fodder, but is hardly filling, and far from sustaining.

Of course, she will be sure to make her own blunders; and more than anything will likely crave that I just be present for her as she heals from her falls.

But as I learn to be a bigger version of myself, I hope to have shown her all that is nourishing, as well as how to forgive herself for the time spent diving after those things that weren't. As life appears to be at least as much about discerning the two, as it is about ultimately getting it right.

Murphys Under Metamorphosis