What She Knew

I tried to write that letter to my 20-year old self, but I couldn't, because that girl already knew the most important things I could tell her.
Nor would I want to alter her path. It's been too good a ride. Even the lousy things, and there are a LOT of those in life, were worthwhile.
You see, I firmly believe you can learn and grow from every experience, no matter how rotten.

You may think I'm smug, saying I already knew the important things at age 20. But I learned them from my mom's death when I was twelve:
    - You can live through anything, despite how it seems at the time.
    - Life is too short to let regrets get a foothold.

The first is really invaluable knowledge, the second a challenge that requires both effort and active participation. Paired together, they neutralize a lot of fear. So, armed with this knowledge at a relatively early age, I learned to listen for my own drummer. With the very fortunate result that, for someone at my stage of life, I have remarkably few regrets.

I will not lie to you and say there aren't roads I would have liked to explore. There are plenty. But they are roads I never happened upon, as opposed to roads I deliberately chose not to drive. Those, at least to my mind, are not the same thing. To me a regret is over an option you actively did or did not pursue. And I just don't regret much.

I don't kid myself that this fortunate state is all my doing. A lot of it is nothing but sheer dumb luck. But some of it is the result of a deliberate strategy. While I wouldn't say my method is for everyone, what works for me is going with my gut.

This can be tough, because often what your gut tells you is right will fly in the face of sense. You need to cultivate courage, conviction and a whole lot of determination. Family and friends will try to sway you. You will second-guess yourself. Frequently, your head will mutter, "What are you, stupid or something??"  (Most likely in a voice that sounds like your dad.) Or your heart will insist that the solution lies in action of the immediate, wild, and extravagant nature.

Your gut, however, knows what is right.

Right is not always what you want. It is not a guarantee that things will work out. Right is rarely the option that gets you immediate gratification. Rather, it's usually the one that requires patience and the willingness to give up something to get something back. But right is the thing that pays you back with a sense of confidence and serenity that you have done your best. Right negates regret.

And sometimes, right is even life-altering. Like when someone says, "Hey! You like to sub!" and your entire reality rearranges itself into something more achingly fulfilling than you'd ever thought you'd achieve.

It's worth listening to that lowly organ, I tell ya.