The Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda, Shuttuppa Detox

Note: This essay is a rejiggered excerpt from my book “Your To Die For Life,” which is a guide to help you maximum joy & minimize regret… before your time runs out.

Explore "Your To-Die-For Life" HERE!

Your personal trio of hecklers, jeering you on with every misstep and misfire.

I personally have a laundry list of regrets like these… longer than a CVS receipt.

• I shoulda started saving and investing when I was in my twenties.

• I coulda let go of those toxic relationships sooner.

• I woulda written my screenplay 15 years ago when my son was first born.

On a particularly curmudgeonly day, I imagine that there’s an alternate universe out there, with a better, wiser version of me who managed to avoid my regrets.

And right now Alternate Universe Me is happily sipping champagne on a yacht.

Of course, I also recognize it’s foolish to wallow.

Each moment spent regretting my past is a moment stolen from my present.

Life can be like that.

If you’re lost in thoughts about old regrets… you’ll miss the live broadcast of your life happening right now.

So you must put down your regrets and focus on the road before you. That’s where your future lies. You can fill this future with all sorts of wonderful, new possibilities.

• Stop beating yourself up about your past.

• Instead of slapping your forehead and asking: “What was I thinking?”

• Breathe and ask the far kinder question: “What am I learning?”

The past is meant to learn from. Not to live in. It’s time to stop harming yourself with thoughts about your past!

If right now you’re thinking “easier said than done,” no worries! I’m about to give you some tools to get it done.

Let’s say I want to reduce this grumbling regret:

• I shoulda written a screenplay 15 years ago when my son was first born.

I recognize how this version of new-mommy-me was always tired.

So tired the word “tired” doesn’t even cover it.

She was tired the way a battery is dead, the way a road is closed, the way a restaurant has stopped serving food at 9:47 pm even though the sign clearly says they’re open until 10.

New-mommy-me was constantly googling things like “is it normal for your hair to fall out in clumps” and “how much coffee is too much coffee” (answers: maybe, and there is no such thing).

New-mommy-me wasn’t lazy. She wasn’t undisciplined. She was in survival mode.

• Context says: Oh, honey. You did what you could with what you had.

• Context says: The screenplay can still be written.

• Who do I need to become now… to write that screenplay now?

Next, I brainstorm a core value I need to embrace to get that screenplay finished.

• I Am: Disciplined.

Plus, I link it to a habit:

• I Do: And so I write my screenplay for sixty minutes every day at 6 am.

Next, I schedule this “I am and so I do statement” in my Google calendar... so I really, (really) (REALLY) do it!

Note: These “I am and so I do statements” are what’s called “identity based statements, and are researched to more successfully motivate action.
I explain WHY over HERE.

Some events from the past are set in concrete.

For example, consider this immovable regret of mine:

• I shoulda spent more time with my grandma before she passed when I was twelve years old.

Ouch. That’s a painful regret that’s been lodged in my heart since I was a tween.

I recognize that dwelling on this pain won’t bring back my grandmother.

When I was twelve my priorities were elsewhere.

Friends seemed more pressing than the quiet company of my grandmother.

When illness made my aging grandmother fragile, it frightened me.

That little girl wasn’t heartless or selfish. She was just a kid who didn’t know how to sit with sadness.

Love felt heavy. It had the weight of grief.

So that little girl chose playing in the basement rec room over the hospice smell.

Plus she chose anywhere that didn’t remind her that the people she loved were not permanent fixtures.

• Context says: I can’t be mad at myself for not being wise before my time.

• Context says: I can’t change the past, but I can rewrite the future going forward.

• Who do I need to become now… to make sure I don’t repeat this same type of regret?

• I Am: Empathically loving

• I Do: I plan regular meet-ups with loved ones... paying mindful attention to anybody who is older or dealing with health issues.

I then schedule these regular meet-ups in my Google calendar… being sure to write in my full “I am and so I do statement.”

• Every blunder, every stumble, every faux pas isn’t meant to be a quicksand pit of regret. It’s meant to be a lesson to learn from.

• I cannot change the past for the better. But my past can change me for the better.

And it can be an annoying guest too.

One that refuses to leave. Even when you ask it politely.

I know shuttuppa is a bit harsh.

So I came up with two assertive and classier words to shush my regrets.

This brings me to our 2 next mental reset tools: the words “forward” and “next.”

“Forward” is a very effective mantra to use when you’re tempted to infinitely autopsy a dead relationship or life misstep of any kind.

It’s a great word to chant when love sours beyond repair, or when failure seems to be not just a moment…. but a monument.

Forward is your way of acknowledging that, yes, you coulda made a different choice.

But here you are now, shoelaces tied, ready to move forward on a road that doesn’t end at the scene of your stumble.

So next time your past starts calling, just tell it: Forward! Then focus your thoughts and actions in this forward direction.

I want you to use this sharp little word “Next” like a karate chop, to cut yourself free from the past’s persistent cling.

Tell yourself “Next” whenever you find yourself dwelling on depressing regrets.

This word “Next” helps you to acknowledge there’s always another chance, another door… another, more positive use of your mental energy.

Bonus Tip: I love to say “Next” in a funny voice… like I’m some guy who works at a delicatessen counter, and I’m yelling out “Neeeeeexxxxt,” because I’m ready to serve up something new.

So, whenever you say those words “Next” or “Forward,” don’t just stop there.

Always be sure to follow them up with an “I Am and So I Do” … something that nudges you into action.

For example:

• I Am: Resilient.

• I Do: And so I take the next small, doable step toward what matters most.

Think of “Forward” and “Next” as the sounds of you turning the page... and deciding that the narrative arc of your life is still ascending.

Imagine how you’ll feel at the end of your life, when that string of coulda, woulda, shoulda regrets try to make their grand entrance.

Suddenly they’ll find the room already full with inspiring tales of how you pressed “Forward” and embraced “Next.”

The words “Next” and “Forward” will have turned out to be the best allies in your life.

Sure, you might not have avoided those falls. But you found a way to rise from them. Again and again. Proving that what matters isn’t how often you stumble… but that you always get up.

Because in the end, your life won’t be measured by the mistakes you made… but by the moments you decided to begin anew.

So put down that burden of coulda, woulda, shoulda.

You’ll need your hands free to applaud when you finally take that bow on a life well lived.