There is something to be said for routine.
Having made positive changes in my life, I am now a silent and content witness to watching life unfold, through routines that are complete and solid in nature.
He walks with bowed legs, a crooked stick aiding crooked legs. His smile is wide, shining its light upon those who share his morning. His frayed cap is tipped ever so slightly, a silent acknowledgment of my presence with his.
He runs. Panting, sensing and sniffing his well-travelled path. A worn, tattered rope connecting her to him, keeps him close and without flight. She too smiles and bids me good morning.
They are there with me, sharing routines.
As I walk, Regret does not walk alongside me. There is simply happiness and fulfilment for having chosen a routine that is reflective of who I am, and who I have always needed to be.