Je Ne Regrette Rien

Having been asked this last weekend whether there's anything I miss about my old life, I find myself slightly disturbed by the fact that I haven't really thought about that.

Of course I miss people. You can't leave a tight community and close family without leaving large gaps, and that hurts. But the lifestyle, the routine, the events and activities, the often-referred-to benefits and privileges, those are all what the brethren's "life of their own" are all about. And I'm struggling to think of any aspect that I would like to have back.

Maybe, just possibly, the fact that employment and decent earnings are guaranteed. Without doubt that removes a worry. Yet at the same time it's suffocating, and comes without any real choice of occupation, so there is a heavy price to be paid. I'll reserve judgment on that until I find out what my prospects are outside brethren employment.

Definitely not the meetings. It would shock my old fellow-members to hear it, but I haven't felt the slightest pang from staying away from their gatherings for six months, not even the flagship event of The Supper on Sunday morning. On the rare occasions when I remember its existence, the only emotion is relief at my good fortune in being able to sleep right through the appointed time. Once you strip away the sense of extreme importance that surrounds the meetings and their central place in brethren's lives, the gatherings themselves stand exposed for the most part as empty, pointless and dull, except as something to sit through before catching up with friends.

Travel is often cited as a benefit, but I could never quite see that one. I'm doing more travelling now than I was, and to a wider variety of places. Brethren will say that it's not the same, that in their society they can walk into a house halfway round the world and be made welcome. The odd thing is that it turns out to work that way for me, now, too, but I also have the option of other places if I prefer. It doesn't always feel right to disturb friends, although it's amazing how good people are at offering hospitality.

Socialising was a big part of my old life, and I don't miss that. It was always too structured and organised, and happened at fixed times and places regardless of mood. Now I meet plenty of people, and it's when it suits us and we can enjoy it properly. What could be better than that?

Perhaps the biggest benefit of being among the brethren, though it's not often acknowledged, is the superior and firmly grounded feeling that results from being completely right when everybody else around is wrong to a greater or lesser extent. Do I miss that? In a way I do, as it's a comfortable sensation. Yet it's years since I felt it, and have come to prefer uncertainty and realism to delusion, however comfortable the delusion may be.

I'm kind of hoping there's something obvious that I've really lost out on, because it's scary to think that I spent the first thirty-three years of my life on things I can leave behind without the slightest regret. People excepted, of course, as always.