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Some evenings you take a walk and wonder if the tides are listening. In today’s story, the shore holds more than shells and driftwood. A mysterious traveler drifts ashore in a tale older than sand, bringing with him a question every one of us has asked themselves: If you could rewrite the past, what would you change? Three choices flicker like lanterns in the dusk, each one a doorway for you to walk through. What would you gain? Perhaps more importantly, what would you lose?
Welcome to Stuff I Learned Yesterday. This is episode 690, “Message in a Bottle.” I’m Darrell Darnell, my daughter once lost a glass bottle on a beach and I freaked out in fear that someone would step on it, and I believe that if you aren’t learning, you aren’t living.
Fortunately, we found the bottle before anyone got hurt.
Last year I had a dream that I was walking on a beach at sunset. I could hear the sound of the ocean waves gliding along the sand and smell the salt in the air. Seagulls circled above enjoying the cool evening air and it was the most beautiful sunset I’d ever witnessed. As I walked along the shore I spotted something in the distance with a glisten that was unlike that of the water.
I kept my eye on it and as I got closer I realized what it was. It was a bottle. I picked up my pace and quickly made my way over to it. I thrust my hand into the sand and freed the bottle. It looked like it could be at least a hundred years old. The glass was a dark green in color and it was sealed with a cork that stuck out from the mouth of the bottle by about an inch.
Curious to see if anything was inside, I held the bottle up to what little sunlight was left. As far as I could tell, the bottle was empty. I pondered for a moment and decided that I should take the cork out to get a better look. I wrapped my hand around the cork and gave it a twist, but it didn’t budge.
I tightened my grip on the bottle, squeezed tightly on the cork and torqued my body to put my body weight into it. Still nothing. Determined to get the bottle opened, I dried off my hands and put the bottle into the hem of my shirt. I gripped the cork with all my might and twisted it.
For a moment, silence. And then…a tiny squeak. I twisted again…squeak. Encouraged, I kept twisting back and forth. Squeak, squeak, squeak, squeak…POP! Finally! The cork was freed from the bottle! And much to my amazement, a genie emerged from the bottle.
He wasn’t blue and he didn’t sing songs about how he’d never had a friend like me, but he did seem friendly.
Still, it was clear this genie wasn’t like those I’d read about or seen in movies. He didn’t offer me 3 wishes. Instead, he offered me 3 choices.
Choice 1: I could go back to any point in my past. Perhaps a favorite memory, and relive that moment again with all the emotion of experiencing it for the first time.
Choice 2: I could go back to any point in my past and change one decision.
Choice 3: I could go back to any point in my past and give myself one piece of advice.
Interesting options, right?
I thought carefully about which one I’d choose.
If I could go back and relive a favorite memory with all the emotion, excitement, and adrenaline of experiencing it the first time, which moment would I choose? Thoughts of experiencing some of my favorite moments with my wife came to mind. Perhaps I’d go back to a favorite moment at Disneyland or, ironically, watching the sunset on Waikiki beach with my family.
But are those better than being able to go back in time and change a decision? I began thinking about all the moments of regret that I carry around. I thought of my last conversation with my grandpa when he lay dying in the hospital. I have fond memories of that conversation, but I’ve often wished I’d asked him more questions, spent more time with him and learned more from him before he said goodbye. Or maybe I could go back and change that decision to spoil myself on the LOST season 3 finale.
Those are all good in their own way.
But that last option is tantalizing. Are you kidding? I have the chance to go back and give myself one piece of advice? Is there any better advice than telling myself to buy bitcoin the first time I learn about it? I’d be a billionaire by now if I’d done that!
So which do you think I chose? Which would you choose?
Here’s what I learned.
I have to be honest and let you know that this is not actually a real dream I had. This story is inspired by a meme I saw last year. The meme was two or three sentences and only included the first two questions. But it got me thinking.
I find these scenarios fascinating because they reveal things about us: our innermost desires, fears, regrets, and baggage.
And here’s what I realized as I wrestled with which choice I’d make: I wouldn’t choose any of them.
Don’t get me wrong. I have regrets. I carry them around like pebbles in my shoe. That conversation with my grandpa? I think about it often. There are dozens of moments I’d love to experience again with fresh eyes and a full heart. And the practical side of me can’t help but calculate how many bitcoins I could’ve bought with a hundred bucks back in 2010.
But going back wouldn’t actually FIX anything.
If I relived a favorite memory, it would be beautiful, sure. But then I’d have to come back to now, knowing I can never experience it that way again. It would be like tasting the most incredible meal of your life and then being told you can never eat it again. The memory would become a weight instead of a gift.
If I changed a decision, who knows what ripple effects that would create? Maybe I would spend more time with my grandpa in the hospital, ask him all those questions I wish I’d asked. What if the version of me who had that perfect goodbye becomes someone who never learned to live with regret, never developed the compassion that comes from wishing you’d done better?
And if I gave myself advice, even the bitcoin advice, what would that do to me? Would I become someone who never had to work hard, never had to learn patience, never had to build something slowly? Would I become insufferable? Would my kids grow up as someone who had everything handed to them instead of appreciating what it’s like to struggle and build something?
The truth is, I don’t want to go back. Not really.
Because here’s what I’ve learned: regret is supposed to teach you, not trap you.
Every time I think about that conversation with my grandpa, I’m reminded to be more present with the people I love right now. When I remember moments I wish I’d handled differently, I’m given the chance to handle today’s moments better. Those regrets aren’t mistakes I need to erase. They’re lessons I needed to learn.
My grandpa’s death taught me something that a perfect goodbye never could have. It taught me that time is short and words matter and you don’t get unlimited chances to tell people what they mean to you. So now, I tell my kids I love them every single day. I don’t wait for the perfect moment to have important conversations because I learned the hard way that perfect moments don’t exist.
If I could go back and fix that moment, I’d lose the lesson. And the lesson is worth more than the perfect memory.
The same goes for all of it. The decisions I wish I could change have made me who I am. The advice I wish I’d received earlier? I probably wouldn’t have listened anyway. And honestly, the journey of learning things the hard way has given me stories to tell, empathy for others who are struggling, and a healthy dose of humility.
We spend so much time looking backward, trying to rewrite history in our minds. We replay conversations, reimagine decisions, calculate what could have been. And while we’re doing that, we’re missing what’s happening right now.
Right now, my kids are growing up. Every day they’re a little older, a little different, a little more themselves. I can’t go back and relive their baby years, but I can be fully present for who they are today. And they need me to be present.
Right now, I have people in my life who won’t always be here. I can’t redo past conversations, but I can have better ones moving forward.
Right now, I have choices to make. I can’t change yesterday’s decisions, but I can make wiser ones today.
The genie’s offer was tempting because it promised control over something we can’t control: the past. But the past is supposed to be behind us. Not because it doesn’t matter, but because that’s the only way we can move forward.
Regret isn’t the enemy. Regret is a teacher. It shows us what we value, what we wish we’d prioritized, who we want to become. The problem isn’t having regrets. The problem is letting them keep us from living fully in the present.
I think about the version of me who would go back and buy bitcoin. Sure, he’d be rich. But would he be happy? Would he appreciate what he has? Would he know how to work for something, how to wait for something, how to value something he built with his own hands?
I don’t know. But I know this version of me, the one who didn’t buy bitcoin, who had that imperfect conversation with his grandpa, who made a thousand mistakes along the way. This version has learned things that can’t be bought or wished into existence.
So if a genie ever does appear and offer me those three choices, I know what I’ll say.
I’ll say thank you, but no thank you.
I’ll tell him I’m going to stay right here, in this moment, with all its imperfection and possibility. I’m going to take the lessons my regrets have taught me and use them to make today better. I’m going to stop obsessing over the past I can’t change and start paying attention to the present I can.
Because the truth is, we don’t need magic to live better lives. We don’t need to travel back in time or get do-overs or receive advice from our future selves.
We just need to wake up each morning and decide that today matters. That the people in front of us matter. That the choices we make right now matter.
The past is finished. It taught us what it could. Now it’s time to let it rest and turn our attention to what’s right in front of us.
This moment. This day. This opportunity to do better, love harder, pay attention, and show up fully.
That’s not a magic wish. That’s just a choice. And unlike the genie’s offer, it’s one we get to make every single day.
So make it. Choose to be here, now, fully present for whatever this moment holds. Let your regrets teach you, but don’t let them trap you. Learn from yesterday, but live in today.
Because today is the only day you can actually do something about.
I’m Darrell Darnell, and this has been Stuff I Learned Yesterday.
I want you to be a part of the next Monday Mailbag on July 29th! Monday Mailbag is your opportunity to Share what YOU’VE learned, so that other listeners and I can learn from YOU. It can be a message as short as 30 seconds or several minutes long. It really doesn’t matter just as long as it’s something that will benefit others. You can send in questions or responses to my SILY episodes, and I’ll respond to them via Monday Mailbag episodes. You can participate in Monday Mailbags by visiting the Golden Spiral Media listener feedback page.