Living a Regret-Free Life While Contributing to the World

From a young age, I’ve always had an acute understanding of mortality – that life could be snatched away at any moment. This oversized childhood fear was birthed from my family’s reality. By the time I was 13, my family would bury my grandfather, lose my vibrant 40-something-year-old aunt to cancer, and see my uncle pass away followed two years later by his son (my first cousin) – both as a result of commercial fishing accidents.

Death, and the inevitable cycle of life, seems to be the one thing we can all relate to. The only differences lie in our chosen methods of moving forward after tragedy. For me, my family members’ untimely deaths served as a quiet, but constant reminder to really live, and live with no regrets. So from a very young age, as much as a child could, I made an unconscious commitment to myself to attempt a regret-free life, in a sense honoring what my relatives didn’t get to finish doing – which was living.

And then I turned 35.

My twenties were no cakewalk, but the low bank account balance and difficulties along the career ladder they brought seemed more like a rite of passage than a permanent reality.

At 35, I assumed my life would have settled – that my climb to the top of the mountain would have resulted in a steady walk across an even plain. Instead it was the opposite: There were peaks and dramatic valleys. Basically, it felt like normal, everyday life as a member of the human race.

And I was really feeling the turbulence. I made a relatively unexpected job change from a job I loved, had a shoulder surgery that prohibited me from being as active as I once was, and had a parent going through cancer treatment. In addition, I was experiencing the pressures of being single at 35 and the constant stream of questions around kids and marriage, paired with a barrage of advertisements for fertility treatments on my Pandora music app. It was comedy at its best: Society’s not-so-subtle reminders of the ticking of my biological clock.

Basically, life was happening to me. I wasn’t special or unique and knew these were things we all go through, but boy was I feeling it. The clock was ticking and I was just watching the arms move. My promise of living with no regrets was faltering. I was literally questioning every decision I ever made that had delivered me to my current state of existence. Then one day my best friend told me about this program called Unsettled. Unsettled offers two-week and month-long co-working retreats at various locations across the world. My friend’s boss had done it shortly after leaving her job and she raved about the experience.

I mulled over the idea for a few months, and after a few tumultuous weeks at work, I decided to pull the trigger. I signed up for two weeks in Cape Town, South Africa.

I had just started my new job and didn’t have enough vacation time for the trip, but something told me to just do it. So I got permission from my boss and took a negative leave balance. It wasn’t the most responsible decision, but it was daring and regret-free living at its best. I was hoping to get answers to a few of my major life questions on the trip, but I really didn’t know what else to expect.

To date, it’s been the best decision I’ve ever made.

The trip was a master class in life, held before a backdrop of a country with astounding beauty and a terribly complicated history. South Africa encapsulates everything that is life: Beauty, growth and the journey of overcoming tragedy.

On day one, I met the roughly 20 other participants who held a range of jobs and were from all over the world: Romania, Ireland, Lebanon, India, Australia, Sri Lanka, China, Dubai, Puerto Rico, Mexico, Colombia, Estonia, Denmark and the U.S.

Our group was split between three different houses in Camps Bay, a stunningly gorgeous oceanfront area of Cape Town hugged by the Twelve Apostles Mountain Range and Atlantic Ocean. It was the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.

The first day we set our agenda, which was sprinkled with voluntary group activities such as a day trip to a few vineyards, a visit to a beach with penguins, family dinner nights and a trip to a township on the periphery of the city. All the group activities included an element of learning – whether it was about South Africa’s history, the economic disparities that exist in the county or simply the shared human condition of living.

In between doing some work, the schedule was loose enough that we had time to do and explore anything we wanted.

As a group, we decided on a few life-learning sessions taught by group participants and our experience leader. There was a course in manifesting miracles, which included how daily affirmations can manifest your goals into reality; another about the seven-year life cycle, and business and financial planning; and finally, a course on your “true north,” a discussion of what you were destined to do.

Because our group was composed of seasoned professionals from a variety of fields, we could also meet one-on-one with each other to get help on our specific specialty. For example, one of the participants worked in digital media, so in the midst of eating pizza and drinking wine, she helped me refine a brand I want to create.

During our Thanksgiving dinner, one of the participants, a marketing executive for a large luxury hotel chain, gave shockingly accurate palm readings in the kitchen.

Our family dinner nights were filled with songs and informal dance lessons from some of the participants’ respective countries.

I learned how to surf and sprained my ankle. I challenged my fear of heights and daringly scaled the side of a mountain. I went kayaking in the ocean and puked overboard. I went on a walking history tour of Cape Town hosted by a man who had been to prison 11 times, survived apartheid and was doing amazing things for the community, including helping the homeless with job training and teaching tourists like myself about South Africa’s history. Unknowingly, but perhaps intentionally, he was inspiring people like me to figure out more ways to give back to their community.

On the last day, I met with our experience leader, who helped me develop and refine a business plan.

Intertwined with the days and nights of joyous music (and my offbeat dance moves) were intense and silent lessons about the beauty of being present. So much of the time I’m thinking about what’s for dinner, my weekend plans, what I want my job to eventually be and debating whether to go to the gym. But for two weeks I lived presently with a diverse group of people from all over the world.

Ultimately, my biggest lesson was something I didn’t necessarily expect. While I was compiling my weekly Community column about how credit unions are giving back, I had an “aha” moment. I went on this trip thinking about how life was impacting me. However, I left with concrete ideas about how I could impact the world. To pull a quote from John F. Kennedy: “Ask not what your country can do for you – ask what you can do for your country.” It also led to a self-realization that I’m exactly where I need to be.

So my new goal will be to execute my business plan and better contribute to this world. This will serve as an anchor that secures me during the inevitably strong tides of this thing we call life. And most of all, I will live – presently and with no regrets. Cheers to you living your life with no regrets and Happy New Year!

Tahira Hayes is a correspondent-at-large for CU Times. She can be reached at thayes@cutimes.com.