Rewriting someone's regrets

Muse #230 - anything else is just an illusionary fiction

Nadine Stair, an 85-year-old woman from Louisville, Kentucky, shares her answer when asked, "How would you have lived your life differently if you had a chance?"
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"If I had my life to live over again, I’d dare to make more mistakes next time. I’d relax. I’d limber up. I’d be sillier than I’ve been this trip. I would take fewer things seriously. I would take more chances, I would eat more ice cream and less beans.

I would, perhaps, have more actual troubles but fewer imaginary ones. You see, I’m one of those people who was sensible and sane, hour after hour, day after day.

Oh, I’ve had my moments. If I had to do it over again, I’d have more of them. In fact, I’d try to have nothing else—just moments, one after another, instead of living so many years ahead of each day.

I’ve been one of those persons who never goes anywhere without a thermometer, a hot-water bottle, a raincoat, and a parachute. If I could do it again, I would travel lighter than I have.

If I had to live my life over, I would start barefoot earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall. I would go to more dances, I would ride more merry-go-rounds, I would pick more daisies."

Source: Chicken Soup for your soul through newsletter from James Clear

Great quote, right? Warms your heart and moves your soul? Yes? Well, that is what I would have thought, perhaps five years ago. Now, totally cant relate to this one.

Why is that?

Because life can be lived only forward, not backward. Every one of us, and yes, that includes you and me, can live life only from this moment forward. Anything else including looking backward and reframing potential optional scenarios is only regretting.

I would therefore rather have Nadine say something like this:

Nadine Stair, an 85-year-old woman from Louisville, Kentucky, shares her answer when asked, "How would you have lived your life differently if you had a chance?"
​
"I can’t live my life over again, how much ever I want to. In whatever is left of it, I’d dare to make more mistakes. I’d relax. I’d limber up. I’d be sillier than I’ve been so far. I will take fewer things seriously. I will take more chances. I will eat more ice cream and less beans.

I am going to have more actual troubles than my fewer imaginary ones. You see, I don’t want to be one of those people that I used to be; sensible and sane, hour after hour, day after day.

Oh, I’ve had my moments. I am going to have more of them. In fact, I’d try to have nothing else—just moments, one after another, each day that I am left with.

I’ve been one of those persons who never goes anywhere without a thermometer, a hot-water bottle, a raincoat, and a parachute. I am going to travel lighter than I have and ditch them all.

I am going to start barefoot earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall. I will go to more dances, ride more merry-go-rounds, and pick more daisies."

How is this second try, as written by me?

Live life forward. That is the only option one has. Anything else is illusionary fiction.