Thursday, October 24, 2019

THE RIGHT TO BE WRONG

I have the right to be wrong.

There are moments when Life lands in me like a sonic boom of awareness. Such was a moment this morning when intellectual knowledge became felt experience.

I have the right to be wrong.

Being wrong is my right by virtue of my humanity. Humans are by nature imperfect and fallible. We all make mistakes. We all stumble and fall. Sometimes when we fall, we take others with us. We are unskillful and sometimes unconsciousness. The friendlier we are with that fact the less our imperfection will kidnap us. The friendlier we are with that fact the less we will lead with pretense. The less we lead with pretense the less likely we are to react in defense.

Having the right to be wrong does not mean we do not seek to be better. In fact, the right to be wrong is a perfect context for betterment and transformation. It is also the perfect platform for being merciful to others. It is a perfect container for compassion. In this regard perfection is perfected in imperfection. The more I can allow and embrace my own unskillfulness the more I can allow and embrace yours.

I suspect that what landed so soundly for me this morning is the fact that I have for decades sought to allow for others “wrongness.” I have imperfectly yet consistently chosen to always seek to forgive when others have wronged or hurt me. At a level I think I took on too much of others unresolved emotion. I made it about me. When I have asked for forgiveness and was denied it I felt even worse about my unfortunate relating. I have always held myself to a higher standard than I have held others. I have persistently given others the right to be wrong. Imperfectly, but consistently.

I have not consistently shown myself the same mercy.

So today I make amends to my oh-so imperfect self. I give myself the right to be wrong. I grant myself permission to sometimes screw up. When I do, I will forgive myself first and foremost. I will also apologize, ask for forgiveness, and amend my wrongdoings. If I am forgiven, great. If I am not, I will not make that about me.

I will not make others unforgiveness about me.

Only a false god withholds forgiveness.

I have long known of my imperfection. I have been painfully aware of my wrongs. Today I feel as if I have been granted a bit more spaciousness to move around in. A bit purer acceptance of my own fallibility. More breathing space. Less pressure. This gives me more room to come from that kind of atmosphere when others deal unskillfully with me. It gives me more freedom to disidentify when others hold me in contempt.

I have the right to be wrong. And so do you.

And the right to be wrong feels so very right.