Living Without Regret – A Stranger’s Warning While Traveling in Tennessee
A chance conversation at a Tennessee state park turned into a powerful lesson on regret, time, and what truly matters — a powerful lesson I’ve pondered often.
“That’s my biggest regret,” he said. “And, now it’s too late for me,” he continued, “but you have your whole life ahead of you. Don’t make the same mistakes I did.”
I sensed he was sharing these words to encourage me. But at the same time, it felt like a confession—a release of his perceived mistakes and the guilt that accompanied them. His intention to encourage me was indeed a success, and I’ve thought about that conversation many times since. I pray it also helped him release some of the heaviness he’s carried over the choices he regrets.
Chasing Waterfalls & Sunrises Through Southern Appalachia
This spring, I had the opportunity to chase waterfalls, wildflowers, and sunrises through southern Appalachia. Mostly unplanned. Totally unexpected. And one of the most unforgettable experiences of my life.
I’d wake up hours before dawn, drive up desolate mountain roads in the dark, then hike miles on the Appalachian Trail to meet the sun, with just the light of my headlamp guiding the way. I saw every color of trillium, rare orchids, and savored every scent of Appalachian spring in full bloom. And I relished the early mornings in solitude at the base of Georgia and Tennessee’s most majestic waterfalls. It was truly the experience of a lifetime.
But as I’ve written many times before, the gifts I gain while traveling go far beyond nature’s abundant, breathtaking beauty and solitude. The people I meet along the way are what make the experience truly memorable.
Sunrise over the Blue Ridge Mountains in eastern Tennessee
The Camp Neighbor
“That’s a really cool setup,” the older gentleman commented as he walked by my campsite with his shih tzu. “Thanks, we’ve had a lot of fun adventures with it,” I replied, not in the mood to chat after a long day of travel and errands. “Sorry to intrude,” he continued, “I’ve just never seen anything like that.” “No worries,” I said. “It’s one of a kind.” “How does it work?” he asked. I went on to tell him all the details of the adventure rig my husband built out over the course of a summer a few years back. “That’s just so cool!” he continued. “And sorry again to intrude, I was watching you set up and kept telling my wife how cool it was. Thanks for showing me around.”
I’d been on the road for two weeks at that point. I hadn’t been sleeping well due to long days of driving, an all-nighter to see the moonbow at Cumberland Falls, and general anxiety about what the future may hold. It was time to do some laundry, and email and bills were piling up, so I decided the next day I’d stay put. I got up early and enjoyed a cup of Aeropress coffee while listening to the birds welcome the day. After a much-needed, extra-long hike, I made something to eat, showered, and started a load of laundry. As I waited for the wash cycle, I sifted through weeks of emails. Recognizing the man I had met the evening before, I greeted him as he walked by to drop off his recycling.
Regret of Chasing the American Dream
“Are you one of those remote workers?” he asked. “Kind of?” I replied sheepishly, not entirely sure how to explain my life. He asked about what I do, and I told him about what I’d been up to for the last decade, and what brought me to southern Appalachia. “Wow, that’s so incredible,” he replied. “Good for you. Keep doing what you’re doing and don’t stop chasing your dreams. Because when you’re my age, the only thing you’ll regret are the things you didn’t do.” And that’s when his tone changed.
He went on to tell me about the heavy regrets he’d been carrying for the last few decades. “Looking back,” he said sadly, “I would have done it all very differently. I see now that I didn’t need bigger homes and the latest vehicles. I worked so hard to buy all the latest and greatest things, and now all that stuff is gone.”
“But what I really lost out on was time with my family. I never got to know my kids, and now it’s too late. We’ll never be close, and that’s my biggest regret. I wasted my entire life chasing the American Dream and missed out on what truly matters.”
If you know me, you know I love these deep and real conversations. And yet, they make me uncomfortable at times because I don’t know how to respond. So I stated the obvious, that “as long as we’re still kickin’, it’s never too late.”
Then I shared a few of my own regrets. “But, you know what I realized?” I asked. “Although those were awful experiences and I wish they had never happened, the fact is that if we were able to change one thing about our past, we’d change everything. And there’s so much in my life today that I wouldn’t want to give up. All of my past—the good, bad, and ugly—brought me where I am and made me the person I am today.” Perking up a bit, maybe even a twinkle in his eye, he said, “I think you might be right.”
Sun rising over the Appalachian Mountains in Tennessee
Finding Meaning & Living Without Regret
I hope this triggered something in you, as it did me. I imagine this story hits each of us a bit differently based on our life experiences. If I were to sum up my interpretation, I’d tell you that one of the most important objectives during this short adventure we call life is to live our lives in a way that feels good to us. To do more of what brings meaning to our lives and less of what we perceive society expects of us. I’m sure I’m not just speaking for myself when I say I could benefit from asking myself the following question more often.
If no one saw this, would I still (buy/do/write) this?
I understand that we all need to work and do plenty of things we don’t want to. That’s part of life. We can’t escape it—trust me, I tried.
But it’s also important to understand that everything is a trade-off. At some point, we need to decide what matters most and what we’re willing to trade for it.
If I asked what three to five things you most value in your life today, what would you answer? How does the life you’re living align with what you value? Are you moving toward more of what is meaningful, or further away?
Part of what’s meaningful to me is my time outdoors and my connection to nature. So much so that most of what we do today is with the goal of bringing our lives into deeper alignment with the great outdoors. Are your daily actions aligned with the life you dream of living? If not, remember what I pointed out to my new friend in Tennessee: as long as we’re still kickin’, it’s never too late.
Morning magic in the mountains
The Bluegrass Verse That Brings It Full Circle
As I wrapped up my time in southern Appalachia and drove across the great state of Georgia to my next big adventure, a song popped up in Apple Music that caught my attention. For many years, I only listened to audiobooks and podcasts in an attempt to optimize everything. That all changed in 2021 during a random encounter in northeast Georgia that led us on a grand adventure with bluegrass. I doubt it’s possible to spend as much time in the Blue Ridge Mountains as we have and not have a soft spot for this growing genre of music. Even if you don’t enjoy the sound of fiddles and banjos, the lyrics seem to be relatable to all of us.
It was indeed the lyrics that caught my attention in this song by Wood & Wire. The song is about their buddy, John, who lives an unconventional life that’s a far cry from their friends, pulling in fat paychecks in their suits and ties. They honor the beauty of both lifestyles, but in the end, they conclude that:
“Livin’ ain’t easy when you don’t have money, but money means nothin’ when you ain’t livin’ free.”
While a little regret can be healthy, and prompt us to change ourselves, relationships, and future, keep in mind that it’s impossible to change the past. And so I leave you with one question to ponder. Instead of fixating on what you might regret, ask yourself:
What will you not regret?
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