Sunday, May 15, 2011
Time slips by. Next Monday, May 23, I'll be another year older. Well, I like to think that literally I'll be only another day older, but there will definitely be a new number to add to my age. Strange, because inside I'm sure I'm sixteen. A wiser sixteen, with more patience and hopefully more common sense. I'm not as apt to lose my temper or cry at the slightest thing; in other words, I've learned not to sweat the small stuff.
What if I could live life all over again? I would be more adventurous, less shy (although I recently heard shy people are hard-wired for that trait). I'd make more savvy investments--the future comes faster than I ever thought. I'd learn to be more independent, I'd analyze situations more thoughtfully. I wouldn't worry; I'd realize worrying doesn't solve problems, just keeps you up at night.
Or maybe I wouldn't change at all. There's an old play called Dear Brutus in which a group of people are each given another chance at life, an opportunity to change the "if only's," to be better people, more insightful, luckier at love and career. What happens? Each makes the same mistakes the second time around. The title of the play comes from a quote in Shakespeare's Julius Caesar: "The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars but in ourselves than we are underlings."
Could I change the qualities I don't like in myself? Would I? No one gets that second chance.
What would you do differently if you had a chance to do it all over again?