The Museum Is Somehow Still Open
Somewhere deep inside Emotional Cartography exists a museum nobody wants to visit voluntarily.
The Archivist of Regret runs it tirelessly.
This museum has endless halls and houses countless catalogued memories. Inside are the conversations, memories, and mistakes that reopen old emotional wounds. Conversations that I wish ended differently. Every mistake I’ve made sits under glass and on display.
This post is all about continuing my exploration of the Emotional Cartography characters, with a special spotlight on The Archivist of Regret, and how she shows herself.
Meet the Archivist of Regret
The Archivist of Regret carefully catalogues what went wrong, replaying moments that feel unfinished or unresolved. She believes that remembering mistakes will prevent them from happening again, even when the cost is self-forgiveness. At her best, she offers insight and hard-earned lessons. When she dominates, the past becomes heavier than the present, making growth feel out of reach.
She resembles a stereotypical librarian — quiet, meticulous, maybe a little meek. She catalogues regrets carefully and believes these archives are deeply important.
The Archivist believes forgetting is dangerous.
The Museum Collection
This museum holds a lot of carefully preserved memories. They range from mistakes of the past, to conversations I wish I had had, or actions I should have taken. Unlike most museums, the open hours seem to be at any time of the day, but mostly overnight. Here are some examples of the types of exhibits this museum holds.
Exhibit A: Conversations Replayed at 2:00 A.M.
The Archivist specializes in late-night screenings. The museum has a special exhibit for those conversations that come up, either in the things I regret saying, or the things I wish I had said variety. Even though The Archivist lives predominantly in the past, she is a huge fan of alternative history fiction stories.
An example of a piece in this exhibit is something that happened when I was a child. I was severely bullied as a kid, back in the day when it was called teasing and wasn’t taken seriously. I was told by the grown-ups to just ignore it. This strategy made me appear more passive, in my humble opinion. Oftentimes, I find myself wondering what would have happened had I fought back, with my words at least. They mostly called me ugly, and honestly, they weren’t that good looking themselves. The Archivist has replayed these memories often enough that they now have their own display case.
I haven’t seen this exhibit in quite some time, but the I wish I had feeling is still always with me.
Exhibit B: Alternate Timelines That Never Happened
This of course leads to Exhibit B. As I’m a deeply imaginative person, I have often had thoughts of what would have happened if I had done this instead of that. That has led to a whole wing of alternative timelines that The Archivist has meticulously preserved.
Primarily, this exhibit showcases a lot of past mistakes I have made. The roads not taken. Career decisions that didn’t pan out. A failed marriage. Opportunities missed because I didn’t think I was worthy enough. Moving through most of my life with undiagnosed inattentive ADHD and wondering how my life might have turned out differently had I been medicated earlier on. Sometimes it feels like every decision I’ve made since becoming an adult has been wrong. This exhibit holds both my failures and the possibilities I couldn’t see at the time.
A recent addition to this exhibit is with my work on my career as of late. The last two jobs I’ve had have been survival jobs. They helped me get out of debt, and get my own place to live. Beyond that, they didn’t pan out. One didn’t make ends meet, while the other was too strict about quotas. Neither has suited me, as I’m in the same boat I was in when I first moved back here from Metro Vancouver.
The Archivist of Regret knows all too well how this will eventually lead to more alternative history timelines. She’s preparing a new display case for this.
Exhibit C: Tiny Mistakes Preserved Like Historical Artifacts
This exhibit occupies an entire floor of this museum.
Every single embarrassing moment is on display. The weird social interactions. Seemingly microscopic failures treated like they are catastrophes.
An example of an exhibit here would be my brief marriage. It didn’t last long, and indeed was almost 20 years ago (seriously?!!). It might be a blip on some people’s radar screen, but I deeply regret it. I wish I had listened to my gut and not gone through with it. I wish I was stronger and had the self-esteem I have now. It may have been a small moment in my history, but there’s loads of regret about this experience.
The Archivist has an astonishing ability to assign museum-level importance to things everyone else forgot immediately.
Why the Archivist Exists
Why is this character important enough to deserve her own blog entry? Regret exists because the brain is trying to protect us from future harm.
The Archivist exists because the brain is trying to protect us from future harm. She preserves mistakes because somewhere deep down, she believes remembering them will keep us safe.
There is also a tendency toward self-protection. Sometimes the mistakes of the past tend to replay themselves repeatedly in my mind. It then becomes important for me to question why I’m replaying this particular memory. My previous exploration about The Spark was also something that was first inspired by The Archivist of Regret. She wanted me to learn why this particular memory or regret tends to replay itself in my mind.
The Archivist is not evil. She’s just very good at her job.
The Problem With Living in the Museum
Museums can be very dark, cold, and lonely places, especially when you’re there by yourself. Sometimes you can get lost. You find yourself trapped in a replay loop, constantly showing your failures. You’ve become lost in a maze of halls, and when you think you’ve found your way, you enter a door and you’re exactly where you were when you started. It can be frightening when you get lost in here.
Regret often comes with guilt and shame. These feelings can leave you paralyzed. If you get stuck in this museum, it becomes difficult to move forward. At times, reflection can feel like a form of punishment.
Sometimes The Archivist mistakes endless revisiting for healing.
SuperMell Visits the Museum
Before beginning the next exciting adventure, SuperMell decides she needs to see the museum again. The Archivist of Regret greets her with a friendly smile, while she’s busy working on a new exhibit.
The halls are very familiar. SuperMell has been here so many times she knows the place like the back of her hand. But something feels different with this visit.
She begins to see the exhibits in a new light. These are no longer painful exhibits to learn from. They are starting to show her a pattern.
Some of the displays seem outdated or out of place. They no longer belong in this exhibit. While walking through the museum, SuperMell comes to a new realization. Some of these memories have become distorted over time.
As she goes to exit the museum, she’s intrigued by the new display The Archivist is working on. What’s next for SuperMell? Where will this job loss setback lead? Stay tuned for more developments on this.
Some Exhibits Deserve Retirement
While I’m having fun with this post, the subject is quite serious. How does someone let things go? Simply put: some exhibits need to be put away in storage.
The first step towards any kind of change is acknowledging what the problem is. A close second step would be forgiveness. Learning to forgive yourself for past mistakes because you didn’t know any better at the time. Realizing that mistakes can still contain lessons, even years later. Seeing what life lessons this taught me makes me grow as a person. Everything in the museum can be taken out of context, so it’s important to view them with a discerning eye.
I need to develop more compassion toward myself. Sure, I’ve made some mistakes in life. But who hasn’t? It’s what you learn from them that truly matters. I can let the memories of the past exist without feeling the need to become obsessed over them.
Not every mistake deserves permanent exhibition.
The Difference Between Reflection and Self-Punishment
You may be wondering why I do these kinds of posts. What’s the point of Emotional Cartography? To me, it’s understanding what my thoughts and feelings are saying about myself and how to deal with difficult situations.
There’s a huge difference between reflection and self-punishment. If you are constantly ruminating over the past mistakes you have made, you remain stuck in the past. Every step along your journey through this life shapes you into the person you’ve become.
I think it’s healthy to be a little introspective now and then. Life is a never-ending learning opportunity. Everything you’ve experienced has shaped you into who you are now, good or bad. Every person you meet has written something onto the slate of who you are. It’s okay to sometimes take a moment to think about how these experiences have shaped you.
Emotional processing is a much better alternative than endless self-criticism. Who wants to build an identity built around only your mistakes? As with all things, what you put out into the universe comes back at you, like a reflection in a mirror.
Personally, I have grown to love who I am, mistakes and all.
Diana Visits the Museum
What would a cat want to see in this museum? Herself, of course. It goes without saying that Diana has her own private showcase within this museum, and it’s a place she loves spending time in.
While at the museum, she tends to knock things over in her constant study of the scientific principles of gravity. She’s no stranger to sleeping in restricted areas, either. She doesn’t understand the importance of this emotional significance. With one swift swipe of her paw, she bats priceless regret artifacts off shelves.
Diana believes most exhibits should be pushed off a table and forgotten immediately.
Final Thought: Current Coordinates
Current status: museum visit completed.
The Archivist of Regret is still cataloguing things somewhere in the background, but I’m beginning to realize that growth doesn’t require permanent self-condemnation.
Some memories are lessons. Some are warnings. Others are simply proof that I survived being human.
And some exhibits really can be taken down eventually.
What’s in your museum?