Every once in a while you look at your past, and sometimes that can make you sad. If things were better for me now, I don't think I would feel the same way about the past. It's the "what if" game. It's a game I would be better off not playing.

Even without the "what ifs," there are still some regrets. I've heard a lot of good quotes on regrets, none of which I can remember now. Regret comes from leaving loose ends. I still have some. There are much fewer than I used to have, but there are still some there, and I would like to tie them all up. I don't want to die with regret.

I say that when there are so many things in my life I would regret if I were to die today. I would regret not spending more time with my kids and doing more fun things with them. I would regret never getting my house the way I wanted it. I would regret not finishing all the projects I started with other people in mind. I would regret not calling my grandma more. I would regret dying fat and unhealthy. I would regret not having any goals in my life. I would regret not making any sort of impression in the world. I have lots of current regrets. I have way more current regrets than I do past regrets. So why am I bothering to put energy toward the past ones? They are in the past. They aren't going anywhere, and there's nothing I can do to change them. They are not dynamic in the way the things of the present are. I can still change the things I would regret now.

I know I say this stuff over and over again. You would think I would get it by now, but I think I do need it pounded into my head time and time again. I do think I need a ton of bricks to hit me one by one until I do finally get it for good. Typically, I get it for a while. I do something about it. Then I fall into a funk and feel all hopeless and worthless, and the cycle starts over again. I can't even count how many times I've been through it. I haven't documented it in my journal every time. There is no way to tell. What I can tell is that it happens far too often, but I can't let that get me down either. I have to keep at it as many times as necessary. It needs to happen far-too-often and one, far-too-often and two, far-too-often and forever. I must continue.

If I don't continue, I had a glimpse of what that would be like yesterday. I was doing laundry, and I had one of those "is this all there is?" moments. It was one of those deep, introspective flickers in time that always seem to happen during the most mundane of routines. And I played the "what if" game, but it was a good thing. I asked myself, what if this really was all there is? What if life consisted solely of existence in this form? What is the point? This takes out the whole idea of living on a higher level and being able to redeem yourself in the afterlife or in your next life or whatever. There is no redemption. There is no second chance. Life is now and never more.

I think I've lived with the idea that I do get a second chance, that I can screw things up here and learn something for the next time or the next level or whatever. It never occurred to me there might not be a tomorrow in death just as there might be no tomorrow in life. I'm not only living my life as if I can do everything tomorrow, but I'm living as if I can do everything next time around. This doesn't mean I no longer believe there is nothing after death, but it's a way of shifting my paradigm. Just as an ax-wielding psycho killer could bust through my front door and slaughter me today, leaving me with all those regrets, death could snuff me out with nothing more than a cremation; no heaven, no hell, no next life, nothing. Who's to say that isn't what hell is? Maybe God just licks his fingers and snuffs out your flame forever without even a smoke tendril to say you were there.

If only my parents could read my mind. They would be praying to the skies to save me. They would quote the Bible. Meanwhile, I can't help but think that the Bible promises everlasting life to those who believe. I know it covers what happens when you don't. I don't remember, even though I've read it. You get what you want out of it, just as with anything.

Without going into my theology, I can say thinking outside my boundaries caused me to consider every little thing I do and don't do as very important. If death is the end, then I better make the most of what I have. Even if death isn't the end, living like it is can make life that much more. If I truly live, there are no worries about tomorrow of any kind.

My nagging little voice just asked me, so why are you sitting here? Introspection is important to my health. It's pretty clear I don't figure these things out by sitting in my pajamas playing Solitaire or moping in front of the TV. This is my avenue to enlightenment. In fact, just by writing about my laundry experience, I more fully understand it. Hopefully this time the effect will last a little longer, and I won't have to start over again for a while.