Yesterday, in a group therapy session, people talked about regret. I said, “Regret is really present in this room. Should we invite Regret to sit down?” People looked a little less regretful when they invited Regret to sit in a corner. They also asked Regret questions like “Why won’t you go away?” I answered in the voice of Regret: “I won’t go away because I think I help you. What would you do without me?” People said that as the session went on, Regret was still there but was getting smaller.
Near the end of the session, I went over to the chair where Regret was sitting, picked it up by the scruff of the neck, opened the door with my other hand, threw Regret into the hallway, and slammed the door. I asked people how it felt now that Regret was out of the room. “Wonderful,” was one reply.
Later that day, I went to physical therapy for my torn rotator cuff, and Regret visited me there. I got so discouraged about my lack of progress that I focused on my regret for slipping and falling on January 31. Then, I remembered the group, took Regret by the scruff of the neck and threw it out the door.
Here‘s the song I heard yesterday with the lyrics “Forget Regret.”
Last month, if you had asked me to predict my next best day ever, I never would have predicted I’d be writing a post with this title, today. I mean, really! How could a day in early October be a ….
… if I was undergoing open heart surgery on September 21?
Nevertheless, yesterday, October 7, WAS one of the best days ever, because:
one of the best college roommates ever, Maria, is staying with me and my best ever boyfriend Michael to give us support as well as rides to medical appointments and grocery stores,
I received one of the best get-well cards ever from my co-workers at a major Boston teaching hospital,
my blood test showed the best INR level ever of 2.8, indicating I will still be able to eat the best food ever, even though I’m now taking Coumadin/Warfarin,
it was one of the best autumn days ever in Boston,
I was in the least pain ever as I was taking walks alone and with Maria, and
I’m feeling much better than I ever thought possible so soon after my valve replacement surgery.
In other words, a day I had predicted might be one of my worst days ever turned out to be one of my best days ever. What’s the best lesson we can learn from all this?
Don’t worry about the future, my dear readers. Why assume that things will turn out badly? If you’re going to assume, assume the best possible outcome. That way, you’ll still get to the future without the added burdens of fear, worry, and emotional pain.
Is that the best advice ever?
What is the best image ever, among all the other photos I took yesterday?
What do you think would be the best music ever, to go with this best-day-ever post?
It breaks my heart that Jonathan Larson’s big, 35-year-old heart stopped in 1996 — because of an undiagnosed tear in his aorta — a day before the debut of the musical Rent, which was the art of his heart, made visible.
A few more scenes — seen and not seen yesterday — from the heart of Boston, USA: