A Meditation on Being Wrong

Having done something stupid and embarrassing again – and I’ll tell you it was so stupid and so embarrassing that I really don’t want to talk about it, at all, ever – I found myself really punishing myself for having done what I did. And after about half hour of surprisingly brutal internal rhetoric, it became obvious to me that what I needed more than anything else was some kind of recess. I just had to take myself away from all this. It was something we all needed.

From having hung around the internal playground for so many years, I suspected that there I wasn't the only one who needed to go out for recess. That's the way it seems to work. Usually, wherever I find myself, there's at least two of me there. And the fact of the matter was, it wasn’t just me that I was so embarrassed about that needed to get away, it was also me that was trying make the other me that I was so embarrassed about feel more embarrassed, or stupid, or guilty or just basically and completely wrong.

So I decided to send them out together.

For the sake of recall, I called one “Wrong” and the other “Right”

Before I go any further, I want to make sure that you know that I knew it was only me all along, and that each of those mes was really only me, playing. Me playing Mr. Wrong, just as surely as it was me playing Mr. Right. That's what makes it fun, don't you see, that, from the very beginning, it's me, playing.

By the time we got to the playground, Mr. Right agreed that he would always be Right, regardless. And Mr. Wrong, with odd intimations of glee, agreed to always be wrong, also regardless. So the only thing Mr. Wrong never felt wrong about was how completely Wrong he was being.

So there we were, Mr. Right and Mr. Wrong. And we were still feeling kind of rotten about each other. Mr. Right telling Mr. Wrong that he could do nothing right. And Mr. Wrong agreeing, abysmally, gleefully.

There was still so much tension between them that it really seemed to them, given they were on the inner playground now, that they were playing something very much like a game of Tug of War.

Now Mr. Right, who, as we know, is, by necessity of convention always Right, instinctively knew that if he tried to play a game of Tug of War with Mr. Wrong the game would just never end. Wrong would simply keep on doing something wrong. Without meaning to cheat, Wrong would probably just let go of the rope, or try to push when he was supposed to pull, or run in circles when he was supposed to stay in position.

So, if they were going to play a game of Tug of War at all, they really needed to find some other players to join them. Which is exactly where Silly and Serious came in.

See, Mr. Right, who was simply, according to his very nature, taking the game seriously, immediately thought of inviting Serious to come and play on his side. And Silly, quite naturally, wanted to play on the wrong side, which, in this case, was manifestly self-evident.

So there they were, two very powerful teams, Silly and Wrong vs Serious and Right. Serious and Right always had the superior position, the superior strength, the wisdom, the correctness, the solidity of purpose. And Wrong just kept cracking Silly up.

Remember, this whole game started because I did something embarassing, and I had to get away from all that punishment I was dealing myself. And I thought maybe I'd try taking an inner recess. And now I discover I'm four different players.

So Wrong, just when he was supposed to offer the strongest opposition, simply let the rope go. And Silly was yanked so hard by the combined strength of Serious and Right that he landed on top of them both, causing all of them to fall into a pile. And just as Serious and Right were about to express the equivalent of moral indignation, Wrong completely doubled over in laughter. Doubled over so completely that there were, for a brief moment, two Wrongs, which, with an unseen flash, made another Right. And suddenly, there were no Wrongs at all. Just two Rights, either of whom, by all rights, could have felt deeply wronged by all this silliness, but didn’t. In stead, both Rights also doubled over in laughter. Which turned out to be exactly the right thing to do, because neither Silly nor Serious could be found. And everything was all right again. For everyone. For, especially, me, alright, all right.