I had a recent epiphany of sorts.
I discovered that I am free to be wrong. Or, to be more precise, I am free to not be right.
Let me try to explain…
Imagine you are sitting across the conference table from Sally, your supervisor, who is explaining to gathered VIPs how the company’s social media visibility has been exponentially upped by the interactive ad campaign she recommended at last month’s meeting.
Except, the ad campaign wasn’t her idea at all. It was yours.
Ed, from the tech department, shoots you a glance. He knows the truth.
Kayla, one of the creatives from graphic design, scrunches her brow. She knows the truth.
And you sit there and think,”That’s not right! That was MY idea!”
As Sally prattles on about how “her” great idea has benefited the company, you consider calling her out. You know, setting the record straight, just to make sure you get the credit you deserve.
You look at Ed and Kayla and others around the table. You know they’d back you up.
Then you realize, “Nah! Sally’s wrong, but she can have this one. I don’t have to be vindicated. I know the truth, and that’s enough for me.”
And then – to your amazement – you get up at the conclusion of the meeting and head back to your desk with absolutely no hard feelings toward Sally. How is that even possible?!
I don’t know.
But I do know this –
The freedom to be wrong, the freedom to not be right –
This freedom is invigorating, powerful, like the concussive updraft of cool moist air at the bottom of a thundering waterfall.