When I was ten years old my mother and father travelled overseas for a month and left my older sister, brother and me in the care of a lady who, being what seemed a great age to us, was more a governess than an au pair. One day, playing in the garden, my rather bored young self got to throwing stones at random. A tinkle of glass ended that.
Later that day the lady, who had been out at the time, called us together and asked who had broken the bay window in the front of our house. My brother and sister said they had not as did I, which left her knowing it was me: even I could hear the difference between my siblings’ statement of innocence and my lumpy words of denial. She questioned me again; I wouldn’t own up. That’s one thing I didn’t do.
I regret that. More than testing my honesty, it proved that my fear of facing the consequences of my actions would make me lie. Had I been brave enough to face up to punishment, it would have strengthened me inside, a strength which stays within, unlike what, each time I stood up on the high board and looked down, I struggled to summon.
When the “Things I didn’t do” question is asked, sins of omission don’t make the list. It’s the sexy things, the exotic, the thrilling which are usually advanced. If a tone of genuine regret may be heard, some credit may go to the speaker for wanting to do them even if desire was not converted into action. Hopefully this will not be followed by: “Looking back, I regret that I did not take more risks.” And how does he know that, had he risked it, a broken neck or a bankruptcy would not have been the outcome?
“The things I didn’t do” suggests opportunities missed and the approach of life’s end. Take note that the title is not “never did” but “didn’t do”… a future of life and its possibilities await. Beware the YOLO mindset which will have you grab the bucket list before you kick it. Rather open another door into life instead of testing its extremities. “I want to be alone for a week.” How’s that for something that might change you more than an Antarctic cruise would your bank balance? If you want to do something extreme, learn how to emit an ear-piercing whistle that turns every head your way. (Be careful of applying the “never” application mentioned above to “I didn’t have an affair.” – it may not be wise.)
There’s also the difference between “couldn’t” and “didn’t do”. It is no good spending thought or time on what is beyond your abilities. Learning a musical instrument sounds top-drawer but frustration does not look good on an adult. And many things are impossible: Rajveer Meena’s ten-hour long recitation of pi to 70,000 decimal places is one of them. Those who evangelise that “cannot” simply needs that second syllable crossed out to change your life have not taken on a fifteen-metre wave. Can I hold my breath underwater for three minutes after it’s been knocked out of me? Not unless I have spent years conditioning body and mind to being held down minute after minute by a massive weight of pounding, churning wave power.
There should be things you wanted to do but did not. Going to the grave stating that you have done all you wanted to means your horizons were too dim or narrow. Just as a good dish leaves you wanting just a soupcon more, leaving life wishing that you had overlanded through South America, attended an Olympics or modelled on the catwalk shows an appreciation of what life holds.
I have never drawn a cartoon. Seeing myself as rather useless with pencil and brush, I envy those who have such a skill. I have ideas for a cartoon, some of which I think would succeed. If I take the time and trouble to learn some basics, I could bring it to paper, cartoons having a wide licence when it comes to representations. Writing this motivates me to make the effort and bring it to paper and overcome my negative notions. It will not change my direction but will add a tiny ring in my trunk of life.
There is a myriad of things I have not done: never learnt to make cocktails, scuba-dived or mastered a card trick. None of those gnaws at me but if an opportunity came to learn scuba, for example, I would take it, but I shall not seek it out. However, had I not pushed myself to bungee-jump, a sense of of incompletion would remain: trust what your heart is desiring when it’s not for selfish reasons. Remember too that though there will be thousands of things left undone, you’ve done lots.
And then there are the things which are delightful to imagine. I think it is possible for me to take a heavy-duty driving course, pass the test and negotiate with a company that owns those long car-conveyors for just one short trip. The vehicle will be fully loaded on both levels and, late one moonless night, I shall drive it down a long stretch of unlighted highway with its whole load furiously flashing every one of their lights – a runaway Christmas tree. That would be fun.
Thank you, Shojol Ismail, for the image on Unsplash
