We humans have a deep seated need to be right.

To justify our view points, explain why someone else might be wrong and why our way or view is better. It’s really quite funny, if you think about it.

Where does this come from, anyway? Are we born with this instinctual right {no pun intended}?

We’re all guilty of this … rightness. If only you could have seen Maman and I this summer in France.

The stupid arguments — they weren’t really arguments but for lack of a better word, I’m going to use it — we had about directions and which way to go. Who remembered what more correctly or didn’t, for that matter.

I’d always catch myself in the midst of some long drawn out explanation of why I was, of course, right, when I’d stop and burst out laughing.

What did it matter? Why did I need to put down her thoughts and try to show how she was wrong?

Krishnamurti had a saying, which I’m not going to be quoting directly here, but it was along these lines: be wrong, even when you know you’re right.

This little Krishna suggestion has strongly stuck with me.

Being wrong just for the sake of being wrong. Even when someone is engaging you in something factual that you could easily point out their wrongness on.

Try it sometime.

It’s actually incredibly freeing. Because when you stop to say: you’re right — you disarm. Any problem or tension that was there suddenly fades away. What else can be said after that? Nothing.

There is an innate power in giving someone else the right reigns to take hold of and letting go. It might seem completely unnatural and oddly enough, wrong, but give it a shot.

You’ll see wrong can be right and right can be wrong.