The temperature took a bit of a dip this morning, and the winds on the Bluff were gusting to fourteen mph. It was still a lovely morning, with some lovely streaks of cloud and faint hints of pink, and turned out I didn’t actually need the Carhartts (though I won’t deny there were moments when I really, really wanted them).
Gave some thought today about Saint Patrick’s Day and family. Both our parents are half Irish, so that makes us kids half Irish, too. We have family in County Cork and County Clare in Ireland, family that our Uncle Pat traced through the family lines. He also organized our entry every year into the annual Saint Paul St. Patrick’s Day parade, wore his greens, and had a wonderful musical Irish brogue he would trot out on appropriate occasions. (I don’t think he actually spoke Gaelic – though he spoke about seven languages other than English.)
He passed away a couple of years ago. Another of my uncles posted a picture this Saint Patrick’s Day of a past year’s parade – Uncle Pat’s last, I think he said. My Mom was right there, and big brother Ted, and cousins and aunts and other uncles. It’s a lovely picture.
I’ve never marched in the parade – I was always invited, Mom and my brother Ted and sometimes our Dad would go – usually my work schedule didn’t work out, but mostly because I just don’t like crowds. Too many people using my oxygen, you know?
So now I wonder: Do I regret not making the time and effort to share those days, those annual events? Or do I only feel like I should regret them, because that would be the normal human reaction?
Second-guessing. It’s a dreadful habit. It leads to self-doubt, hesitation, and finally decision paralysis. On the other hand, if it’s used constructively, second-guessing can be a good habit. It can lead to self-examination, identification of motive, and ultimately to change for the better.
So I guess it’s all about intent – what’s the purpose? What are you asking the questions for?
And why are the answers important?