Liminal

If you ask me if I’m a person who lives in regret I’ll say no, but a friend recently helped me to see that I’ve been wasting a fair amount of time wallowing in the “if-only”.  A fantastical place of intense longing for wishes that seem impossible to fulfill, it’s an endless reenactment of the proverbial fork in the road that we believe has somehow had a hand in negatively altering fate.  The “if-only” is tracing an unpleasant situation or unmet desire back to a specific action we’re holding accountable for the present state of affairs.  It’s about yearning for reality to be adjusted, ever so slightly, to make space for the outcome we’d like to see. Particularly pernicious and invasive, it attacks both choices made in the past and hopes for the future:   If only I’d married a different man, maybe I wouldn’t be divorced today.  If only I’d been more vigilant about homework when my kids were younger, maybe they’d be self-motivated today.  If only the man of my dreams wasn’t committed to someone else, I could date him.  If only my peer wasn’t holding the position I want, I could be in my dream job. You get the idea.  The “if-only” is all about standing in front of closed doors, blinded by the belief that the only path to our desires is blocked by circumstances beyond our control.

The crazy thing about the “if-only” is that it’s stochastic; there is no way to gauge whether the true catalyst is identified, or whether a single action, situation or choice plays any role at all.  It’s impossible to say whether the results would be any different with a pointed redaction, yet we convince ourselves they would be.  If I’ve learned anything about my own imagination, it’s that I can count on nothing playing out in reality the same way it does in my head. The beauty in this is that it leaves us free to delight in the most arcane of possibilities.

And this is exactly what we should be doing with our imaginations, using the infinite creativity of our minds to envision the “what-if”.  The “what-if” is about hope and promise.  It’s about standing in front of open doors and thinking about how you can make great things happen. It’s about understanding what you control and capitalizing on it.  The “what-if” channels all of the energy wasted on the “if-only” into positive change.  Powerful beyond measure, it unveils opportunity we never dreamed possible. 

This revelation feels a little bit like a breakthrough. I’m now convinced that if I commit to replacing the “if-only” with the “what-if” I can make a potent shift in my life.  Focusing on the opportunities in front of me that I can act on leaves little time to welter in what I can’t affect.  In situations where I’m blaming myself for a decision in my past, abandoning the “if-only” makes room for forgiveness, grace and the clarity needed to solve or move on from the current situation.  Where I’m feeling stuck in a state of perpetual hold I’ll be able to walk away and pursue instead an avenue that holds promise.

Unloading the “if-only” is a little bit about faith, too, a belief that all of the vigilance in the world doesn’t guarantee a specific outcome. Yes, sometimes bad things happen to us no matter how hard we try to guard against them.  But sometimes good things come to us for no apparent reason at all.  They just do.