Is there a past decision or choice that you’re still questioning? Maybe even tormenting yourself over? Would you rather not keep suffering like that? Read on…
I don’t trust myself to make decisions
When I started to get interested in how to help people use Focusing to make decisions, one theme that often came up was regret over past decisions.
Regret itself is painful. But just as painful, perhaps more, is the feeling that one can’t trust one’s self to make good decisions. There is often a harsh inner critic lurking about, saying, “That was dumb!” (or worse) about a past decision.
I noticed that all these situations had something glaringly in common: there was something about the person’s present life that felt bad. Quite bad. Frighteningly bad.
“I’m really scared about money now. I don’t have enough money to feel safe.” leads by internal logic to: “I shouldn’t have made that bad investment decision.” And that leads to “I can’t trust myself to make any investment decisions.” Or any decisions at all.
If life feels pretty good right now, there are no strong voices about the awfulness of past decisions. That may seem obvious… but it’s quite important, because it suggests that those harsh inner voices and the suffering involved is really about life now, and not about the past, really, at all.
“I should have gotten a second opinion”
I remember some years ago, after my Mom died from the complications of a failed heart operation, I was wracked with regrets. “I should have gotten a second opinion.” “I should have stayed longer with her in the hospital her last night.” “I should have moved to live near her.” “I should at least have given her another foot rub!”
For weeks, my regrets and the sense of inner criticism for making wrong choices were so strong that I kept replaying the last days of her life over and over, as if I could change what had happened. But no matter how often I pictured myself making different choices, Mom was still gone.
Finally I did some Focusing. And I could sense that under that frantic agonized scolding there was something deeper. When I got quiet and took time I could sense it there, huge, and I was able to be with it. It was something in me raw with loneliness. Missing her. Scared I had let her down somehow.
When I touched that place directly, and let it know I heard it, I could feel it wasn’t true that I had let her down. Instead, there was a warm feeling, and the words, “It’s OK.”
A few Focusing sessions like that, and the unbearableness of the pain melted away, leaving me with a bearable process of grieving. And no more regrets.
