Regrets

I’ve often said I don’t have any.
Everything that came before has led me here—
and this place, this moment,
isn’t such a bad one.

But if I’m honest…
Looking back at the careless life I’ve led,
at choices made in ignorance, haste, or hunger—
if you held them up against the Noble Eightfold Path—
Right Speech, Right Intention, and the like—
you’d likely find me well off course, and wandering.

Off walking through flower beds,
trampling ant hills,
shunning learned monks
who, in their piety, offer blessings
asking only for a few grains of rice in return.

It seems I am but a slow learner.
In a few days, I will mark the moment—
one year shy of three-fourths of a century—
when this portion of the universal soul
set spark to this stardust shell in human form.

And only now am I beginning to understand
that I must align my steps with those the Buddha took.
To learn to sit, as he did, beneath the Bodhi tree.
To quiet the noise,
to soften the striving,
and to open the still space within
where peace—real peace—waits patiently.

To those my mindless, careless, selfish acts
have betrayed:
I can’t undo the damage done.
But know that I have been awakened
to the harm I’ve caused,
and ask, with right intent—
what can I do to make amends?