Sometimes my regret eats away at me for not helping a man whose life I believe I could have made better. Here's what happened...



Once when I was on vacation I would see this man walking up and down the beach, all day - everyday, trying to sell sea shells. He would just walk quietly between the vacationers holding up his shells hoping someone would stop him and buy one. 

In the week I was away I counted just 3 shells sold.

He put in an unbelievable amount of effort, for what had to be a miniscule income. As I watched him work in the hot sun, trudging back and forth across the sand, I started thinking what could he do to sell more shells.

One idea that came to mind was instead of just walking around holding up his big pretty shells, he could gather up hundreds of little shells that were on the beach. He could varnish them or paint them a color as a way of distinguishing them from all the other little shells on the beach.  Then when he walked on the beach he could stop to approach each vacationer and welcome them to the island. He could tell them that he wishes them a brilliant vacation full of fun and love and offer them a "gift" of good luck for them and their loved ones. Then hand them the small varnished or colored shell.

I think a few things would have happened:

• Some people would inquire and buy his bigger, pretty shells on the spot (certainly he'd give a lot more "sales" presentations than he was currently giving)
  
• Some wouldn't buy on the spot, but after watching him day in and day out walk along the beach, working so hard and spreading good cheer, they would buy later on
• Many would talk about him and spread pleasant stories about the shell salesman's lovely gift. This would also lead to more sales.

When we are given something, we have an intrinsic pull to return the favor, to re-balance the scales. For example if someone invites you over to their home for dinner, most people feel the pull to invite them back. Dr. Robert Cialdini in his powerful book "Influence" calls this the "reciprocity" principle.  By giving first, you can get (much more) later.

This is all moot because I never approached the man to make this suggestion. Instead I'd lower my eyes into my book every time he walked by. I regret doing that. I'll never know if he would have followed my suggestion, or if it would have worked or been worth the effort, but I can tell you I feel crummy for not sharing what I was thinking. For all I know it could have changed his whole standard of living.

Martial arts grand master Jhoon Rhee once said, "discipline ways ounces, regret weighs tons." He was right.  When you feel that inner "nudge", listen to it, it's there for a reason. I'm going to next time.