I think Aesop misses the mark here. The old laborer wouldn't necessarily be sorry if his wish had been gratified; he'd just be dead.
The real lesson of this fable seems to be about our inability to measure our own readiness as it pertains to crossing certain thresholds. At the critical moment, at the jump-or-don't-jump point, we never feel ready. Later on, whether we jumped or we didn't, we hardly remember being given a choice.
My friend Chris can attest to this; he went skydiving recently with his boyfriend, and there's a really good picture of him taken at the critical point, right at the door of the airplane. You can tell just by looking at him that he's not even really there -- his mind has been blown and he's as blank as a ping-pong ball. It's obvious that whatever happened next, whether he leaped into the sky or clawed his way back into the recesses of the plane, it would be done automatically, half-consciously at best.
Chris and I have laughed together at this bug-eyed picture on many occasions. I'd like it's the exact same expression that the old laborer had on his face when Death suddenly appeared in the form of a grisly skeleton:
But you know, ultimately Chris did jump. And so will you, too... when you are truly ready, or are given no other choice.
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