“No regrets” is popular mantra in our society, but how healthy is it?

From one angle, regret is a form of attachment to an alternate reality that was never destined to transpire. If everything happens for a reason, then where is the value in looking back and feeling resentful about the way things could have been? To avoid bitterness, we must come to love our fate rather than dwelling in illusory “what ifs”.

On the other hand, when we close our hearts to regret, do we not usher in a form of denial? Left unacknowledged and unprocessed, difficult emotions hide in the recesses our psyche. Perhaps regret is no different. We can defend against the pain of regret, but at what cost?

Regret is a complex, multi-layered feeling. It actually feels like an amalgamation of many other emotions, such as:

• Anger
• Disappointment
• Sorrow
• Guilt
• Shame
• Longing (for things to be different)

That’s a lot to process! No wonder it’s tempting to avoid confronting regret. It’s hard to open old wounds and feel all that pain rushing in. Perhaps then the mantra “no regrets” – Je ne regrette rien – is emblematic of this impulse to deny.

Our culture is also wary when someone begins to make contact with their own reservoir of regret. They somehow become ‘wrong’ to feel any regret at all.

“Life’s too short”, we chide them.

“You need to move on from the past”, we advise.

But a feeling exists within us, is it not valid ipso facto?

My thesis is that looking back in regret is often a salutary path, a path towards healing and acceptance. But we must tread carefully.

Regret as a grieving process

If we can tune into regret on a visceral level, without getting sucked into the self-critical thoughts that come with it, then the truth really hits home – what’s gone is gone. The past cannot be undone. We can begin to grieve what was, or what never was.

As with all grieving, there are precious truths to harvest. Regrets can remind us of the unlived life, and of creative potentials in us yet to be realised. Gently meditating on our regrets from a place of self-compassion can open us up to this dimension. The wisdom of the body can be helpful – how does the pain of regret manifest in us physically?

Perhaps it exists as a searing pain in the chest, or a wrenching ache in the gut. Feel its contour, locate its centre, and spend some time there. Give your suffering an opportunity to be experienced and contemplate how you can form a kinder relationship with it. Rather than acting as an enemy, regret then becomes an ally, a guide to a more soulful life.