The regrets of the dying: what causes them?

George Mack

The regrets of the dying: what causes them?

Here's my take:

Regret 1 - I wish I had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.

Under the hood: Agency was outsourced to the crowd

Regret 2 - I wish I hadn’t worked so hard

Under the hood: Agency was outsourced to the money dashboard or impressing other people.

Regret 3 - I wish I had the courage to express my feelings

Under the hood: Agency was outsourced to social conditioning.

Regret 4 - I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends

Under the hood: Agency was outsourced to other friends.

Regret 5 - I wish I let myself be happier

Under the hood: Agency was outsourced to some day in the future.

What is fascinating about the regrets of the dying: Despite the warning label on the road from people who have already been down it, new people still continue to drive down the road — and are surprised when they arrive at that destination on their death bed.

Why?

In our lives, we believe in abundant amount of tomorrow’s. On the death bed, we seem to realise it was just a scarce series of today’s.

We make those mistakes as trade offs for some moment in the future. We assume that we will eventually live a life true to ourselves, work less, express feelings, see friends and be happier — but only when a certain condition is met.

But the conditions are horizons that keep moving.

“When I get to 30” becomes “When I get to 40” which becomes “When I get to 50”, which becomes “When I get to 60”, which becomes “when I get to 70”.

It’s only when you are sat on your deathbed does this realisation seemingly occur: There was no tomorrow’s, just a series of today’s — and now it’s all gone.

The best metaphor to describe the regrets of the dying is a weird Groundhog Day: You’re at a party — but you’re currently outside of the party checking your emails. As you clear one email, another email appears. You’re sat outside of the party forever cleaning your emails thinking the next year or decade will be different. It’s only when the clock has a few more ticks left and everyone is leaving the party do you realise you wasted your whole life cleaning your metaphorical email inbox.

The tomorrow never came. The emails never stopped.

If you want to guarantee something never happens: Outsource your agency to somebody or something.

----

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Table of contents

The regrets of the dying: what causes them?

Here's my take:

Regret 1 - I wish I had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.

Under the hood: Agency was outsourced to the crowd

Regret 2 - I wish I hadn’t worked so hard

Under the hood: Agency was outsourced to the money dashboard or impressing other people.

Regret 3 - I wish I had the courage to express my feelings

Under the hood: Agency was outsourced to social conditioning.

Regret 4 - I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends

Under the hood: Agency was outsourced to other friends.

Regret 5 - I wish I let myself be happier

Under the hood: Agency was outsourced to some day in the future.

What is fascinating about the regrets of the dying: Despite the warning label on the road from people who have already been down it, new people still continue to drive down the road — and are surprised when they arrive at that destination on their death bed.

Why?

In our lives, we believe in abundant amount of tomorrow’s. On the death bed, we seem to realise it was just a scarce series of today’s.

We make those mistakes as trade offs for some moment in the future. We assume that we will eventually live a life true to ourselves, work less, express feelings, see friends and be happier — but only when a certain condition is met.

But the conditions are horizons that keep moving.

“When I get to 30” becomes “When I get to 40” which becomes “When I get to 50”, which becomes “When I get to 60”, which becomes “when I get to 70”.

It’s only when you are sat on your deathbed does this realisation seemingly occur: There was no tomorrow’s, just a series of today’s — and now it’s all gone.

The best metaphor to describe the regrets of the dying is a weird Groundhog Day: You’re at a party — but you’re currently outside of the party checking your emails. As you clear one email, another email appears. You’re sat outside of the party forever cleaning your emails thinking the next year or decade will be different. It’s only when the clock has a few more ticks left and everyone is leaving the party do you realise you wasted your whole life cleaning your metaphorical email inbox.

The tomorrow never came. The emails never stopped.

If you want to guarantee something never happens: Outsource your agency to somebody or something.

----

If you enjoyed this, it's taken from my newsletter.

Get all the best ideas I've written or found when you sign up. Link below.

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