Genuinely, it’s more probable that one regrets more with decisions that never acted than with acts that already performed. Today while talking to a friend after having read her blogpost, this question prevailed overall the conversation; what was the mistake in life you remember and how you dealt with it? What was the mistake I made in my life? What was the worst that I can remember?
To spoil the conclusion, there’s no such memory I tag as a mistake, for somehow all those moments have turned into a lesson. Every time I tried to speak out a mistake I had in my life, it turned out that it wasn’t that bad at all at last. Rather, labelling those moments as mistake would be an undeniable mistake, or a severe equivocation. I’m grateful that even a flower of negativity always blooms with the seeds of positivity. I could say; if I knew back then what I now know. But the fact that I didn’t know much back then has made me a storyteller.
And those moments are always related to relationship matter, at least in my case. I haven’t committed a homicide (wait, let me think…. yes, not that I know of). The dramatic change of my career I realised happened in the early years. So what have left to tell are only two stories as come here below:
1. I got acceptance letters for my master programme from Pompeu Fabra University (Barcelona), Latin American Institute of Social Sciences (Buenos Aires) and University of Chile (Santiago). I was eager to realise a master as soon as possible, and I didn’t apply for English-speaking countries where tuition fees recorded above my budget. Everyone else told me to accept the Barcelona option, since studying in Europe would open up more career opportunities to me. For aesthetic reasons of my future curriculum, it was recommended. Moreover, Pompeu Fabra University is the leading university in Social Sciences academia, located right next to the Barcelona beach. But the reason I applied to Barcelona was because of my former relationship with a Cuban who was going to move to Barcelona with me. Since the relationship cut off before carrying out the plan, I lost my reason to move to Barcelona. Wanting still more adventure, I didn’t want to stay in Chile so I moved to Buenos Aires. Life has been resulted in different spectrums if I had stayed in Santiago, or if I had moved to Barcelona. But I know whatever option I had taken, I’d be happy anyhow. I met wonderful people in Buenos Aires. I had a reflecting period of my life. I advanced myself in accumulation of knowledge. I have lived in a country with economic crisis and political drama. What would happen will happen; Buenos Aires gave me an option to finalise my study in Europe anyway, as I’m moving to Paris in few weeks.
2. When I was in US military, there was an arbitrary inspection to the barrack on the day of range training. It was the day of a complex range; M9, M16 and 50cal mixed. The ammo control didn’t count well the hand-in and return, so later found out that there was a missing box of ammunition. It was logical to think that one soldier took the box back to the barrack, maybe out of personal glory or out of suicidal cause. The inspection accompanied with some K9s, trained canines, with an aim of inspecting drugs and unregulated articles at the same time. I had some ammunition kept in my drawer (don’t ask me why, but you can imagine one of two reasons mentioned above), so I was almost panicked for the exposure. I secretly moved all my ammunition to the safe box in the headquarter building right away not to have any further problems. But those weren’t anyway from the missing box of that day. Staff sergeants kept walking around digging and asking around. When they asked me what I knew, I said ‘I don’t know, maybe TJ? He worked at the ammo control until the finishing hour’. They went to his room and swept the whole furniture over the floor to find the missing box. I shouldn’t have mentioned any name that I wasn’t too sure. TJ hated me for a while after that. Never to mention names; was the lesson I obtained. The consequence was direct and visible so I had to work hard for him to forgive me.
Would I repeat these mistake again? If I hadn’t learnt any after these mistake, I surely would repeat the same mistake not because I want it to happen but because I’m not wise enough to extract the value out of it. But recalling all other small mistakes and mayor mistakes, smiles escaped time to time from my closed lips. Especially those related to relationship matters, I would repeat to have another heartbroken.
I recalled a song and a video related to this matter: ‘I would risk again (Me equivocaría otra vez)’ and ‘If you could meet your future self’. Enjoy!
P.S. More thoughts about mistakes: What are the common mistakes occurring in childhood, in school and in university? Are we having less mistakes along with technological leap we are experiencing? Does having less mistakes link to having less creativity? If all possible lessons are taught directly or indirectly, will we be facing a mistake-less society?