The many lives I could have lived (Inspired by The Midnight Library by Matt Haig)
“Between life and death there is a library, and within that library, the shelves go on forever. Every book provides a chance to try another life you could have lived. To see how things would be if you had made other choices…Would you have done anything different, if you had the chance to undo your regrets?”
― Matt Haig, The Midnight Library
In the middle of reading the book, TheMidnight Library, I predicted how the story would end. But I was in denial. Because to admit that it was indeed a perfect ending would mean that I wasted a lot of time mourning over regrets. And that, if I were to stand in the Midnight Library (I am assuming it would still represent itself as a library because of my inclination towards books) and attempt to live the many versions of my life, I would always return.
But I couldn’t help but wonder about the what-ifs. Wonder about my book of regrets and what the many lives I could have led. So I imagined standing in the Midnight Library, with aisles of books on either side waiting for me to take a step forward and pull a book off of its shelf. And so I did.
In one life, I never left home. I stayed in the dysfunctional family and went on to get married into another dysfunctional home. I disappeared in the middle of washing dishes, leaving behind an irate mother-in-law and a husband who was running late to the office. In another life, I never left home but had doting parents. I was a teacher in an elementary school, teaching literature and language to a bunch of screaming eight-year-olds who rather be playing outside.
One book led me to the middle of my dance performance. Having no idea of what the steps came next, I froze. I took in the blinding lights, the powerful classical music being played, and the faces of hundreds of people looking at me, now perplexed. Then, I pretended to faint.
In another life, I was married to my first love. We lived a few houses from his family. My family was continents away from me, refusing to even acknowledge my existence.
One story had me as a librarian. It started out peaceful and then grew tiresome. There is only so much excitement you can get from chasing horny teenagers away from the dark corners.
In one life, I was a famous author. I appeared in the middle of the book signing and enjoyed the glorious fame. But it was not long before I felt like a fraud. In the middle of the conversation with my publisher about my second book, I returned to the library. In another life, I still wrote but chose to be a professor instead.
There were times, I tried to undo the regret of not fulfilling someone else’s expectations. So I picked a book that led me to a life where I was a developer and not particularly the best at it. I seemed to enjoy drinking more.
Other times, I lived a life that felt like a dream. When something is too good to be true, you tend to suspect that something else is at play. But as long as it lasted, the experience was enjoyable. I immensely enjoyed being a professional dog walker, though it took some time for the real me to get the hang of it. Another exciting experience was when I was a sommelier (a fancy word for wine taster), suggesting wines to best complement the food. Oh, and the time I spent teaching yoga in a fancy studio in a foreign country. I returned before I figured what led me there.
The longest time I spent in a life was where I was a single mother by choice to a beautiful 4-year old girl. That was the life I almost wished I stayed back. There was also another life where I was a single mother, but the still fading impression of a ring on my finger suggested it was not by choice. I spent many days stewing in awkward silences with a sulking child who I assumed was my son. The shortest time was that of an Instagram influencer. The real me couldn’t fathom what led this version of me to pick such a career.
In one life, I was a Spanish translator working for a big tech company doing business all over Europe. In another life, I traveled the world with a crew, trying to tell the story of the various cultures and their practices.
In one, I was the therapist, and in another, I was the patient. In some, I was a vegan, and in others, I couldn’t eat anything without meat. I had pets in some lives, whereas I lived alone in the others. Some were happy, some were sad, and some were just tragic.
In all those lives I could have lived, there were always some aspects (in some, it was more than some aspects) of life that weren’t perfect. It had something to with the job, my neighbors, my family, or even that version of me. I suppose I could say some were better than the others. And in many, I would have loved to stay back. But those accomplishments weren’t my own. And none predicted if I will continue to be happy.
“But it is not lives we regret not living that are the real problem. It is the regret itself. It’s the regret that makes us shrivel and wither and feel like our own and other people’s worst enemy. We can’t tell if any of those other versions would have been better or worse. Those lives are happening, it is true, but you are happening as well, and that is the happening we have to focus on.”
― Matt Haig, The Midnight Library
So the best I can do is live this life and try to make it count.
