Playing With Regret (Instead of Wallowing in It)

Two years ago, Sam and Keely of 2020 made a decision that Sam and Keely of 2022 wish they hadn’t.

The younger, dumber versions of us sold our house in Florida before moving to China. “Let’s make our lives easier,” we thought. “We just had to tear down the kitchen after a dishwasher leak turned into a mold problem while we were in Asheville for a month, so leaving the house vacant for months at a time doesn’t feel good. Our friends who have rented out their houses said it’s not worth it, even if you have a property manager. Sell and save yourselves the trouble, they advised. So we’ll listen.”

We listed our house and sold it within a day. Florida houses were selling like hotcakes in January 2021 and we had a great realtor.

The problem is that we’ve regretted it almost every day since.

Because of China’s grating zero-Covid policy, we spend way more time in the US than we originally imagined. We don’t come home for a week or two. We come home for months at a time.

But, instead of spending months at a time in our beloved sanctuary, we bounce around. Florida to Pennsylvania to Virginia to… Guest room to hotel to Airbnb. Packing and moving. Moving and packing.

It makes me want to tear my hair out. And I’ve lost the ability to lie about how I’m feeling, so Sam also wants to tear his hair out. I had a “I can’t live this way any longer” meltdown on the way from the grocery store to YET ANOTHER Airbnb yesterday, then Sam got to spend his afternoon comforting me.

He also gets emails telling him how much more our house is worth now than when we sold it, which is super fun.

But here’s the thing – I can’t waste any time during this lucky lifetime feeling something like regret. It’s too far out of alignment from how I want to live.

Unfortunately, logical explanations like, “We made the best decision we could at the time,” don’t erase the regret from my system. I’m not having regret based on logic. I’m having regret based on emotions.

And, last night, while driving past our old house on my way to get sushi and a foot massage, I finally landed on the comforting thought that erased regret from my system. Unsurprisingly, it’s based on my spiritual beliefs.

I don’t live in a single-character story. Although human consciousness is currently at a place where I wander around, feeling like the main character in the tale of my life…a lot of things that happen while I stroll around the planet have nothing to do with me.

That house we sold? Maybe our entire role in owning it was to hold it until the current owners were ready for it.

“Here’s a couple in quadrant 482,” the Universe might have said, “That will be leaving for China at exactly the same time as the Smiths will be looking for a house in Florida.”

“This Boynton Beach house is the answer to prayers that Mrs. Smith has been casting out into the Universe for a decade and we want to make sure she gets it. So the Copelands will hold the house from 2016 to 2021, then Mrs. Smith will have her dream come true. The Copelands will be great stewards of the house, they’ll cherish the outdoor oasis during Covid, and everyone will win.”

Then the Universe might have wiped its hands and moved on to the next prayer.

Coincidentally, it could have been the one I sent up on plumes of sage-scented smoke during a shamanic ceremony I held after we decided to sell. “Thank you for this wonderful home,” I said. “May the right people find the listing and cherish this house as much as we have.”

Then, when Mrs. Smith (not her real name) walked into the door, she told Mr. Smith he had to get her this house. It was her dream house and perfect for the disabled dogs they fostered, thanks to our gorgeous hardwood floors (they had dogs with back leg wheelchairs), giant swimming pool and massive corner lot.

Will I ever know if any of this is true? Is the Universe actually this interventionist? Do prayers work like this? Is manifesting a real thing?

No idea.

But if believing it makes me feel better, it seems like a wise thing to do. I’m into pragmatic spirituality and practical magic.

And adopting this belief is both pragmatic and practical. It gets that pesky regret out of my system while also giving me a next step: you best believe that tonight, when Sam gets home, I will have a shamanic ceremony ready to go. This time, we’ll send up sage-scented prayers that the right house for us will go on the market while we’re home. Because this bouncing around thing–it’s for the birds.

If you have a house in Boca, Delray or Boynton that you’ve been thinking about selling…let me know.