Christianity's foundation is that Jesus Christ is a cosmic Ctrl+Z

How to ... undo things

Guy Browning

Without doubt the greatest innovation in computing is Ctrl+Z. Pressing those two little keys undoes what you've just done. And, if you keep pressing them, they keep undoing things. It's like living life in reverse, with the added thrill that you'll get things right next time. Real life has no such key. Nothing you've done can you undo. That's why many people choose the safe option of doing nothing. Opening your mouth is the equivalent of sending an email: there is no way of retrieving what's been sent. Instead of you being able to unsay what you've said, others undo their relationship with you.

The western way of doing things is progressive, and we find undoing anything deeply countercultural. But if you work on the basis that everything carries the seeds of its own destruction, wilful deconstruction will inevitably lead to something new, so undoing is not so bad. Wrecking ball operators are generally happy in their work.

Divorce is life's biggest undoing, apart from getting out of the insurance you didn't know you'd signed up for when you bought your new dishwasher. There's a catch-22 in divorce. If it goes through smoothly and amicably, then you probably shouldn't have divorced; if it's bitter, protracted and unpleasant, then you probably should have. Undoing things is difficult, but leaving things undone is equally troublesome. We tend to regret the things we haven't done more than the things we have, possibly because the unknown consequences of the former are more tantalising than the mundane consequences of the latter.

The only way things that are done can be completely undone is by the total forgiveness of the person to whom the thing has been done. This means total surrender of the will of the perpetrator to the grace of the victim. Christianity's foundation is that Jesus Christ is a cosmic Ctrl+Z. Buddhism encourages you not to be idiotic in the first place.

Breast enlargements, like conservatories, are reversible, but trying either casts a shadow over your judgment. Good judgment resides in deciding what doesn't need doing, buying, reading, seeing, learning, hearing, visiting, fixing or eating. And if they really do need doing, you can always undo your undoing.