The Power Of Being Wrong

The Power Of Being Wrong

Most people think that they’re as nice as they’re ever going to be; that they’re as good as they ever need to be.

We didn’t really decide on our aspirational inner person.

We truly believe we’re already perfectly normal.

We are seduced by a need to be practical, never really defining for ourselves the boundaries of this practicality or the erosion effect it has on our joy.

As waters wear away the stones, and floods wash away the soil of the land, so practicality works against the hope for man.

The thought that some change is expected is usually very baffling for the individual ””but, but, I’ve always been like this and it has worked”. Usually the more successful a person has been, the tougher it is to accept the need to further develop. The slightest change seems to be putting us on a trajectory of becoming like Mother Teresa or Mahatma Gandhi.

The greatest doubt is: How can being better at being good be useful for me. What’s in it for me?

Often, we’re able to deal with, accept, and forgive anything if only the other accepts that s/he is wrong.

Our need to be right is supremely addictive. It simply does not seem to matter how much we love another, or how important the other is to our own lives. We sacrifice everything at the altar of our being right.

Accepting we’re wrong though, brings abundant success.

Try it for 30 days. In smaller things at first.

What we were struggling for by the process of establishing our view of right is easily and more tangibly received by our surrendering that privilege.

Accept for example that you are wrong in your estimation of the lack of love of your spouse. Accept that your boss perhaps is really deserving of his/her role and is currently the best fit for the job.

Accept that my direct reports are not apprentices, but are knowledge workers and do know more and make better decisions than me.

Accept that my turn at the helm is over. That I’d rather the business failed than smash the aspirations, or destroy the confidence of my sibling or child. (The business is already failing if you’re currently defending your authority.)

Can you remember the day you decided that you would always try and prove you were right?

Perhaps you could choose to remember this day though. Remember this moment when you now choose to do two things:

1) Accept being wrong.
2) No longer setting out to prove others wrong.

Don’t worry. They will learn of their wrongs on their own, if indeed they are wrong. Life shows no partiality.

Or they will ask.

Who told us that we are made to stop others from failing? Or that love is best displayed in this fashion?

Test it out.

Be somebody’s safety net if s/he falls, but don’t prevent the possibility of falling.

To accept that I’m wrong, rights more things, than proving that I’m right.