#hestitate

What do you regret? I regret the times I have acted with too much head or, conversely, with too much heart. I regret the times it seems better, somehow, to hang back and not step forward. I regret, along with writer George Saunders, the tepid and timid response, the moments when another “being was there, in front of me, suffering, and I responded . . . sensibly. Reservedly. Mildly.” I get the instances I have turned to others for guidance even when I already had a hunch of what to do. I regret the part of me that is deferential, that fears being sentimental. I regret I am not more propelled by impulse, nerve, instinct. I regret I am not better able to hide my natural sincerity under a slant and saucy wit. I regret I am not captained by science.

The word regret comes from the Old Norse gráta (“to weep, groan”). It is possible that regret is a gentle, almost pleasant wistful way of describing the dissatisfaction I feel with the flaws in my own narrow and hesitate character.