Guilt!

Today's question, for all of you reflective types, is "where does guilt begin?"  What is the origin of guilt?  

What is guilt, really?  Maybe it's tied to regret: you feel guilty when you know (think) you should have done something, but, for whatever reason, you did something else instead.  Maybe, at the time, you did what appeared to be right, but now you feel that you were wrong (this is getting pretty heavy).  Some people are also accused of trying to make you feel guilty (they often succeed at this).  Hence the term, "guilt trip" or "guilt tripping."  According to popular folklore, Jewish mothers are especially adept at this and, I hear, Catholics do a pretty good job of it as well.

Being made to feel guilty is a fascinating topic, and would be worth exploring another time.  But often (and maybe always), it is you yourself who triggers your own guilt (if only in allowing yourself to feel guilty).  I think we tend to feel guilty especially when our actions affected someone who is close to us.  And so I come to my confession.

I feel privileged to a piece of knowledge: I already know when I first experienced guilt in dealing with my child.  It was a couple of weeks ago, when the child was a wee 16 weeks.  Sixteen weeks in the womb, that is. Unborn, for the love of God!

For those of you who have been paying attention, I've been mentioning the phenomenon of pre-natal communication, apparently a highly beneficial activity for the unborn child.  So I did something awesome: I read a whole story to my unborn child!  It is one of my favourite childhood stories in my mother tongue (you will probably recognise the cover of The Giving Tree, even if you don't happen to read Hebrew).

This is awesome, you see, because, with repetition, the unborn child will learn to recognise my voice, even some of the words, heck, maybe even the story itself!  And if some people have it right, this can become a comforting story that will make the little guy shut up when he's otherwise inconsolable!

Alas, I have not read the story to the fetus again.  I even think that he's asked for it and I have not found the time to read it.  What a horrible father I am!  Guilt-ridden already.  

What would the giving tree say?