So here's the story: After a lifetime of handcopying ancient texts, an elderly monk became abbot of his monastery. Realizing that for centuries his order had been making copies of copies, he decided to examine some of the monastery's original documents. Days later, the other monks found him in the cellar, weeping over a crumbling manuscript and moaning, "It says 'celebrate,' not 'celibate.
Ah, regret. The forehead-slap of hindsight!
courtesy of Martha Beck--author and Life Coach
So what regrets haunt you?
23 June 2008
Regrets, I've had a few...
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2 comments:
Oh-oh! This is a nasty area. Mine are too numerous, too private and too depressing. Don't want to go there! You would have to ply me with several slugs of your single malt and give me access to that large couch with the soft blankies and pillows in your living room before I would divulge! I hope your other readers have more nerve than I do, because I recently realized that I am quite nosey.
Not taking the rest of that wedding cake home with Moi on Saturday.
What?
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