Would you rather be...

Right? Or Happy?

“Before the truth sets you free, it tends to make you miserable.”

Richard Rohr (Falling Upward: A Spirituality for the Two Halves of Life)

How hard is it for you to say, “I was wrong.” I made a mistake. I jumped the gun. I shouldn't have said that. And, worst of all, “You were right.” Oh, Lord! Most of us would rather be staked down to a fire ant mound. It's hard. We suffer. At least, I do.

When asked the question, “Would you rather be right, or would you rather be happy?” most of us, if we're honest, would rather be right. Happiness is such a transitory thing, after all. And some of us are so bull-headed (not naming names) that we'd rather suck pond scum than admit to being wrong. Why is that?

Somewhere in the distant past, (and current present) admitting to wrongness was dangerous. It meant to acknowledge weakness, or ignorance, or stupidity, which gave one's enemies a handle with which to seek retribution. How many times have people suffered unnecessarily, even died, because they put their faith in a big fat lie, and then wouldn't back down. Wars have been launched over such nonsense.

To admit that we're simply wrong, we have to swallow our ego, and for some of us, that's elephant sized. It's a tough gulp. Then, we must “fess-up;” and tell the truth. There may be some hell to pay, for sure. You may have to eat more crow than suits your appetite. You may even face punishment, but freedom from the misery of living a lie feels like a bird being sprung from a cage. Freedom is worth it—it's worth more than anything. Let's practice: “I was wrong. I'm so sorry.”

                                                       In the Spirit,

                                                           Jane