Sometimes, proving that we’re right isn’t worth the price.

(Part 2)

It is so easy to get caught up in daily discussions that we often don’t consider their trifling nature. Does it really matter whether we turn right or left in a drive around the lake? And yet, in the midst of a disagreement, we lose sight of this. We feel compelled to set the other person straight. And fail to notice that in our attachment to our viewpoint, we’re upsetting the other person.

What’s the point of winning an argument at the cost of distressing someone we care about? Or anyone, for that matter.

What comfort will we find in being right when we contribute to another’s distress? Or in our insistence, we cause their fears to increase, perhaps in their worry over making yet another mistake.

All this so that we can be right?

The unhappiness we will cause is pointless. Often, it’s best not to tell others that they are wrong. And very often, we really don’t need to show the world that we are right.

No one is too important to say “I’m sorry.”

Sometimes, proving that we’re right isn’t worth the price.

(Part 1)

Once upon a time, a young couple was driving to the lakeside cabin where they were planning to spend their honeymoon. Approaching a junction in the road, the wife said, “We should turn left here to get to the other side of the lake.”

Her husband replied, “We could, but I was told that by turning right, we’d get there quicker.”

She responded that surely going left was better.

With a hint of irritation, her husband retorted that no, he had even checked a map before they left. And his route was best.

“I’m sure I heard my sister say to turn left,” she said.

“No! We need to turn right!” he retorted heatedly.

His wife was becoming upset. “I’m sure we go left.”

Sensing her increasing unhappiness, he realized that the direction didn’t really matter. What mattered was the wonderful person next to him. His face softened, and he said gently, “I’m sorry. You’re correct. Left it is.”

“Thank you,” she said as she squeezed his hand