“You aren’t old enough to have regrets,” my Uncle Mark said.

I was 14 and just finished baby-sitting my incredibly well-behaved cousins. I’ve often wondered if my aunt & uncle gave me those gigs just to get me out of my parents’ house. I know I loved being at their house because it was quiet and full of satellite TV. The kids were very easy to hang out with and, at their age, often taught me things inadvertently. That’s how kids are at that age.  It could also just be what you do when you need a babysitter.

I mentioned regretting something on the car ride home. The assured nature of my uncle’s remark made me pause for a moment. Why would my age factor into regret? I had done things in my life I wish happened differently. It’s not a question of appropriate – just a fact of my existence. At 14 I’d already circumvented my parents’ will and had experiences that only led to heartbreak. How could I NOT regret that.

I know now. Regret is a choice. Something you have to feed, like a pet. If you stop feeding your guilt and regret it’s easy to abandon some concerns. And, more importantly, some of those concerns should be starved to death. I have a catalogue of experiences in my memory but I don’t regret many. Most of the things I did to rebel weren’t only natural but recommended for my young adult development. My aberration is the only thing separating my childhood from cult life. At least, from what I’m seeing.

Objective and relative both have many meanings. Things are relative except our relatives which are things unto themselves. The objective view of things from a relative situation is like looking through a prism, trying to discover which facet is correct. It all depends what you focus on. I don’t expect to have relatives that react to my objectivity but relatively speaking it’s an objective problem with no solution.

I don’t know if that last paragraph makes sense. I typed it anyway.