What We Envy

Envy.  One of the seven deadly sins.  It is the more  kind-hearted, passive, less harmful cousin to the malice of jealousy.  Jealous husbands kill, envious girls quietly weep or deeply sigh.

I have always envied those with long legs, good singers, 20/20 vision -  the normal list.  I have envied those with that absolute, rock-solid, unquestioning faith.  Faith in whatever - God, church, the power of donuts - absolute faith.  I have never had it and never will.  I am a questioner, and was - even as a kid.  I remember the nuns "explaining" the Holy Trinity - Father, Son, Holy Ghost.  I didn't buy it - it's three or it's one - it cannot be both (literal even at a young age). Challenged the nuns, then the parents, finally a priest. Always the same answer - what I came to see as the ultimate punt -  "Marcia, it's a divine mystery that Catholics just believe".   I envy those who believe that sort of thing. So simple, so comforting to them, or so it seems.

I envy fast metabolisms.  I envy people who naturally eat only when hungry. I envy smooth, easy, powerful golf swings.  Still envy long legs.

And now a new one. Well, two.  I envy people whose hearts have not taken to randomly stopping, that's for sure.  But I now also envy those with weaker memories. (Apologies to my SCA anoxic brain injury friends).  I have long relied on what has been an excellent memory - it got me through college, has been extremely useful in the career, helped me win more than a fair share of marital arguments, and was the key to passing multiple bar exams.  Now I want a lousy memory. At least selectively.  We all have moments of agonizing regret - you don't get into your 5th decade without regret - I would like to forget two moments in my life.  Two days.  I can't eradicate the events, but I would like to eradicate the memory.
One was long, long ago - I was a teen, and I wronged a friend.  It remains the worst thing I have ever done to another person.  I have come to terms with it, but I wish I could also simply fail to remember it.  I remember every moment of that day, and I would rather not.

Then the second, more recent - I harmed only me.  My failure here was in not tending my self-respect, in making a set of poor choices and emotional investments, in yielding when I should not yield, in taking far less than I deserved,  in allowing denial to take charge for hours, or maybe it was even weeks.  Guilty of not outgrowing certain impulses, of being f__ing human.  I would like a mulligan, a do-over. But I can't change it, I can't fix it -  I accept that.   But I would greatly prefer not to remember it.  The guy (oh, of course it's a guy)  has almost certainly forgotten what pieces he remembered; his memory is astonishingly porous.   Mine is not. I remember every single minute of that day.  And I would rather not.  I'd like an eraser please.

I'd rather not remember.
I envy and wish for a crappy memory for the first time in my life.  Or at least a selectively crappy one.
The antidote for envy is gratitude; I'll be working on that.