What do you Regret?
August 27, 2008
“Daddy?”
“Yes, son?”
“What does regret mean?”
“Well, son, a funny thing about regret is: that it’s better to regret something you have done than to regret something you haven’t done. And, by the way, if you see your mom this weekend, would you be sure and tell her SATAN SATAN SATAN SATAN.”
– Orbital, “Satan”
Orbital’s notion of regret is aligned with my own: somewhat diabolical. I reject regret. Live intensely, live now, live well, live kindly, follow your instincts and that path which pulls you.
In this one thing I have been almost entirely successful.
Sometimes those around me are tempted to think I regret the England debacle of 2000-2001. In brief, I moved to England for graduate school, only to find myself stuck there in the worst winter in 400 years and emotionally and psychologically ripped away from my known world as I struggled with a crushing flying phobia (I had taken the boat to get there) and a sense that those I loved were gone and very, very much out of my sphere of influence. Not to mention misplaced cosmopolitan hubris and a highly-combative survival instinct that got activated in me. Regret it? Not for a µsecond. No no, and no. One of the most important–and wonderful–things I ever did to myself.
Working at [large semiconductor manufacturer] for 14 months? Blandly routing to the suburbs every morning for my five hours of meetings and jargon-littered PowerPoint slides in my half-cubicle so gray I couldn’t tell where the walls ended and the floor began? Not at all. The self-confidence, professionalism and personal growth it spurred in me was a hundredfold worth it.
Those things that rend us most deeply are often the most personal: losing my closest friend in early 2002 because of the realities of relationships with other people (I guess), losing a flock of friends who preferred the company of my ex over me, the entire aching sore of being an ugly adolescent. Losing (but O My Stars, regaining ultimately after three-and-a-half years) David in 2001 was the worst thing that ever happened to me.
Yet, as Shakespeare says: “Let’s not burden our remembrance with a heaviness that’s gone.” The wonders and joys that lead to those losses are worth every prick of hindsight and recollection.
And, yet, there is one single thing about my life that digs at me, quietly but unrelentingly. It comes to me in predictable recurring dreams about not completing classes in high school or missing final exams.
I wish I had a better education. I wish I had gone to a better college instead of the urban-and-freeing but otherwise 4th-tier state school I spent seven years rattling around in. Sure, I made some good decisions: I quit high school at fifteen to go to Portland State Univ. because I couldn’t stand it, and for academic reasons. I took all sorts of diverse and meaningful courses in college. I even went to graduate school for a while.
But for someone like me, someone who values education and academia almost at religious levels, someone whose biggest hobby is reading for crissake, I wish I could do something better. I regret that I did not try harder to go to a respected university. And, unlike most aspects of my life, which can always surge better, the likelihood of my getting a world-class education at this point is minimal. There is too much permanent record haunting me, too much reality, too many age problems, not to mention that I don’t have a clear idea of what line of study I would pursue.
But my recent calculus class at PSU this summer reminded me of how much I love school (despite the massive time suck–I had forgotten!). College was wasted on my youth. I liked it at the time, but now I am enthralled by it. But, oh yeah, I have a job now, no, actually, I am a co-founder of a company, not some part-time gig in a candy store or something. Plus my parents don’t pay for much these days (grin).
I know there are options: courses designed for professionals, night classes, MBAs catered to adults. But these foci generally go in directions I don’t really want to–with knowledge, my goals are not (centrally) professional. I don’t want a business degree. I don’t want to get a higher “trade” degree just because that’s what one does.
I also know that it doesn’t technically “matter” that much to the surrounding world, insofar as my ability to be successful and learn. It’s a personal drive.
I want to be well-read. Well-versed in how civilization got here. Mathematically-inclined. Scientifically-steeped. I try on my own, and how, but wouldn’t it have been a boon if, like both of my parents, I went to UC Berkeley, or, like my sister (she hates it when I mention this), who got both an undergraduate and law degree from Harvard, with honors, I had some really great classes and professors to frame my world?
This is my only major regret in life. Do you have one?
13 Comments
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September 23, 2008
1) Your “Orbital” quote is actually a sample from the Butthole Surfers song SWEET LOAF.
2) I’m very proud at all of the self-education and college you have taken in the past few years!
3) You got me back :)
In re: 1, I actually knew that it was a Butthole Surfers thing. But I really like it in the Orbital context with the SATAN SATAN SATAN!
In re 3: oh yes!
This one completely resonates with me, and I get frustrated with my 19 year old self who didn’t just lap up all of the opportunities open to me at St. John’s College, the chance to be completely immersed in the great books and surrounded by people who wanted to talk all day about those books. I have to remeind myself that when I was 19, that wasn’t what I needed. It’s funny to read you putting this one down because I respect you as this fabulous autodidact.
I think, also, I am a little suspicious of educational institutions as the source of education and credentials, because I think there is always a need to look critically at how the interests of the institution are going to differ from the interests of the individuals, and I’ve been wondering if we won’t at some point trend more towards collaborative, more open source ideas of education, spurred on by people who truly loved education, of course.
Mara, I have about a nine-hour spiel I could launch into that are my ideas for education (esp. secondary and higher). I tried to avoid that in this post, but man am I bursting at the seams.
And thanks for calling me an autodidact! You’re the first, ever.
I regret: not finishing college. But this is something that I can start back up when I’m ready and can afford it. Much emphasis on the “afford it” part.
I regret: not making a better effort to stay in touch with the people that have meant something to me over the years.
Interesingly enough (or perhaps not) my one major regret is also education-related. I finished up high school with a complete lack of motivation, having not been challenged by my courses or (most of) my instructors. Without any real direction or motivation, instead of going to a 4-year college and getting some sort of degree, I chose to stick around my hometown and go to community college.
I’m not sure why I felt that being unmotivated at community college would be better than being unmotivated at a “real” school, but the end result was that I gradually dropped out, finishing without any degree of any sort. I joined the workforce and have been employed in technical positions ever since.
The lack of degree didn’t limit me at first, but it’s becoming an issue as I advance farther into my career. I look back on wasting my educational opportunities and realize that I’d probably be in a much better place had I completed a degree, ideally at a 4 year school.
I did go to UC Berkeley but I left high school a year early because like yourself I was bored to tears. I think much of my time at Cal was wasted because I was too young and it was too impersonal (think frightened 18 year old and 30,000 students). My one regret is that I started out in math, nearly flunked calculus, panicked and ending up with a BA in comparative literature – the easy option. Wish I had had the support to stick it out and really learn math. I SO admire your ability and tenacity to go back and get the calculus class – congrats on your grade by the way. You also outclass me on the reading front. Autodidacts rule!
Basically, I only regret anything that has been a long-term impediment in my social or personal development.
I regret not learning a foreign language. I keep meaning to take classes but then live my life in such a way that staying in the same place for long enough to complete a few classes is largely implausible. I think by not learning foreign languages when younger, I haven’t wired my brain in such a way to make it receptive when I do travel. I usually only cling on to a few desperate phrases that I wield inappropriately and pronounce with the barest hint of fidelity.
I regret not dating more at a younger age. I’m still completely uncomfortable and inept in dating situations and only stumble into them by accident.
I regret not having made more short films (or, goddammit, a feature) by this time.
I need to remember this: I seem to only regret what I haven’t done.
I guess I’m not sure if I regret things or only note that they could have been done better. Is there a difference? Regret, to me, implies some amount of current struggling with the issue, which isn’t much the case with me — the past is the past. I should have … but I didn’t. Believing that you’re forgiven for the things you’ve done wrong is nice like that.
That said, I wish I had taken my time at university more seriously. I went to a top-notch school and largely frivoled my time away, escaping with a degree but not necessarily knowledge and such. I especially wish I’d made use of the high-quality humanities courses then that I’m now interested in: history, literature, all that. Oh well. It all worked out, though.
I think it’s interesting that we beat ourselves over what we could have done, but not over what we did. Why is that? Is it because we think we’re okay in the present, so what we did wrong clearly didn’t hold us back, but what we could have done might have made things (even) better?
Hey, Lyza, Mara is not the first to call you an autodidact, actually. Bob has referred to both you and your grandmother by that term. We are both in awe of your dedication to intellectual pursuits.
Don’t listen to my aunt Catherine. She’s the only person I know who I would not hesitate to call “well-read.” Then again, she’s a librarian. She even met Tim Spalding (of LibraryThing)!
I think the reason I “regret” not doing the school thing better is that it affects me now but I cannot really rectify it. There’s no path towards what I would want (readily evident, anyway). Yet I still think that there are relevant things I could do to improve my education, so I haven’t “let it go” in the way that one lets go of past things and moves past regrets. Thus, it still exists in the present.
In my definition, I guess, a regret is something that cannot be rectified that affects our present state and thoughts negatively.
Saw this today (http://indexed.blogspot.com/2008/09/tricky.html) and thought of you and our discussion at book club, and this post….
Its interesting to see the comments about schooling. I went to a small catholic school (Univ of Portland) for computer science. The only CS prof was quite good. I was not focused enough then to take ‘full advantage’, but i feel satisfied with my undergrad experience. starting grad school at PSU was much different, being older and more focused. i think it makes sense for highschoolers to take a year or more off before starting college.
my regret when i look at my adult life to-date is having spent a large majority of it without a significant other. i dated very little and usually lived alone. the girlfriends i’ve had have been wonderful times but did not last too long (3-6 months).
this year has been an improvement, once the twitter explosion of the spring of ’08 happened. i’m exposed to more people and situations than before. I really liked Doug’s comment of “I seem to only regret what I haven’t done.”