Regret. It often creeps in, lingering like an unwelcome visitor in our minds. Whether it’s the decision not taken, the opportunity missed, or the path we feel we should have followed—regret can feel like a weight, subtly or sometimes loudly reminding us of what we think we could have done differently. But what if regret, and the beliefs that fuel it, are little more than illusions?
We often view regret as a tether to the past, a necessary reflection of mistakes we believe should have been avoided. It disguises itself as a form of learning or growth. Yet, beneath the surface, regret is a paradox—a feeling rooted in the notion that we could have acted differently, even when we now understand that our awareness at the time wasn’t what it is today.
So, why does regret feel so powerful? The answer lies in our relationship with control. We often believe, even subconsciously, that we have control over the past, or at least that we should have had it. We imagine that if only we had been more aware or more courageous, we would have made a better choice. But this very belief is what perpetuates the cycle of regret: it suggests that we were meant to have known what we know now, back then.
However, realization comes when it does. It doesn’t arrive early or late—it simply arises when we are ready to see things differently. Could we have made a different decision in the past, given the knowledge and emotional state we were in? Likely not. And that’s where the illusion of regret begins to unravel.
Regret, in this light, becomes a distraction—a story we tell ourselves, an attempt to rewrite a past that no longer exists in the present. The more we cling to this story, the more entangled we become in its emotional web, pulling us further away from the present moment. And when we examine regret closely, we find it has no substance—it’s a mental construct, based on memories and feelings that no longer hold the power they once did.
Yet, letting go of regret doesn’t mean dismissing the lessons the past offers. Our experiences, however painful or difficult, hold insights that can guide us. The key is to extract the learning without clinging to the emotion. The past is a teacher, not a prison. It doesn’t have the power to define us unless we give it that authority.
When we begin to view regret as an emotion tied to an unchangeable past, it loses its grip. We stop asking, “What could I have done differently?” and start asking, “What have I learned, and how can I move forward with this knowledge?” In doing so, we shift our focus from the impossible task of rewriting history to the much more empowering question of how we can live fully now.
Regret also brings us face to face with deeper existential questions—do we have free will? Did we really have the power to act differently in those moments? This question has no simple answer, and it may not matter as much as we think. Whether or not we believe in free will, the past is immovable. We can’t step back into yesterday, no matter how much we wish we could. What we can do is reframe how we view the past and, in doing so, transform the way we move forward.
When we strip regret of its emotional charge, we find that what remains is simply a series of experiences, moments that shaped us but don’t define us. Regret is only useful insofar as it points us toward growth, not as a tool for self-criticism. It’s a signal that there’s something we can learn, but once we’ve absorbed that lesson, regret has served its purpose. The next step is to release it.
By letting go of regret, we begin to free ourselves from the illusion of control over the past. In doing so, we open ourselves up to the present and future with more clarity, more awareness, and less emotional baggage. The quiet freedom that comes from this release is profound—it’s not an escape from responsibility, but rather a deep acceptance that everything unfolded as it needed to. And in that acceptance, we find peace.
What if regret isn’t a feeling to hold onto but a thread to unravel? What if it’s the mind’s way of pulling us toward growth, only to let the thread go once the lesson has been learned? When we see it this way, regret is no longer a chain but a gentle nudge toward deeper self-understanding and freedom.
As we pull the threads of regret, they slowly dissolve. What remains is the space to breathe, to move forward with a lighter heart, and to embrace the truth that the past is just that—the past. We can carry its lessons with us, but we don’t need to carry the emotional weight of regret any longer. In releasing it, we step into a new kind of freedom, one that isn’t bound by what once was but is fully open to what could be.
