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Claudia Singletary

Claudia Singletary

Couldn’t Say It

I remember an episode on Happy Days from many years ago when the Fonz literally couldn’t get certain words to come out of his mouth.   

“I was rrr….”, he attempted. “I was ruuuueeeng”.  Then “I was not!”

Why is it so hard to admit to being wrong?  Why is it even harder for some people than others?  Why do the words stick in our mouths?  Or are they stuck in somewhere else?  …..our pride, I guess.

I hate to be wrong.  I find even with the people I spend the most time with and love to the utmost I tend to be competitive.  I don’t find it hard to say “I was wrong”, but do I really mean it?

Sometimes I’m sure I don’t.  Sometimes it’s just a way to get past the issue and move on.  But mostly these days, I find it very freeing to admit it.  It can be hard to do if you feel it won’t be met with equal humility, if you think they might agree with you and really stick it to you.  “Heck yes you were.  And even worse, you……” (followed by a list of more egregious behavior on your part)

But life is softer, more genteel, more civilized perhaps when we put living at peace above being right.  Of course, that doesn’t mean we oughta say it insincerely or that we ought to give up convictions.  But the occasional “I could be wrong” is just an admittance of what we all really know deep inside — that we each only see a part of any situation.  Kinda like the old story about the blind men where each one is stationed at a different part of the elephant and assumes the part he’s touching and describing is the sum total.  

“So an elephant is just like a tree trunk,” says the one at a leg.

“No, an elephant is like a giant hose,” says the one positioned at the trunk.

“You’re both wrong.  An elephant is a great floppy flat pancake-like thing,” says the third one, feeling an ear.

In that case, they’re all correct, just experiencing different parts.  And that’s how it is with some things.  

I have decided it’s healthy to doubt myself quite a bit.  I know the things I want to hold tightly to, but it’s another part of wabi-sabi to question some and admit that my view may be partial.  Maybe not incorrect, but certainly often from an incomplete perspective. And even if I examine and still come to the same conclusion as before, it’s a more rounded, a more complete stance, with maybe a bit of compassion added in.

And I find that to be a Good Thing.

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