Understand That Two People Can be Right
We can spend a lot of energy wanting to be right and the other person to be wrong. One of the most powerful lessons I've learned is that two people can both be right even though their views and ways of doing things can be very different. My husband and I experienced this several years ago on a camping trip. It became a lasting event for both of us in our marriage.
Lessons in unlikely places
We were on a long backbacking trip that would take us 60 miles through rugged territory. We were hiking on what's called a "primitive trail,' which means there isn't much of one at all. You have to find the route by looking for rock cairns or faint suggestions of a trail. We enjoyed doing these kinds of hikes because you travel into the most beautiful areas, and you have it all to yourself. You truly get away from it all.
The terrain on this trek was very steep, and we had to hike at least 13 miles a day. The summer days were sweltering. On the third or fourth day we spent most of the day navigating through what the trail description called 'braided trails' from wildlife movements. We faced a maze of trails, which resulted in us losing a lot of time to route-finding. Swarms of huge flies followed us, biting us with each step. We were drenched in sweat. We were looking for the trail through the pass which would take us to the last part of the hike, one that would have a more maintained trail. At that point, a real trail sounded wonderful. On that day, we were not having fun. We camped in an alpine clearing, deciding that we'd look for the trail through the pass in the morning.
The next morning we rose to a beautiful day and started out again. After several days of the rigorous hike, I was exhausted. I yearned for the last and easier part of the hike. I trudged uphill, the backpack like a 40 pound sack of potatoes strapped to me.
We got to the top of the ridge. No trail. We wandered around for some time. No trail. My husband, a man who can do anything, wanted to bushwhack through the dense forest, reasoning that we would eventually intersect with the downhill trail. I was not enthusiastic about crashing through the underbrush in bear country. That sounded like a recipe for getting lost in the woods. I wanted to keep looking for the trail, reasoning that we knew we were close to it, it was just a matter of time.
We had an animated discussion. Steve was determined to do his bushwhacking. He was confident he'd find the trail. Now, I had a great deal of confidence in my husband. I just was too tired to spend more energy making my way through forest. I needed the relative ease of a trail. We decided I'd wait on the ridge. My husband would go forth and see if he could find the trail.
I plopped down to wait. I looked at the view of the jagged mountain scape and the dense hemlock forest. A red- tailed hawk flew overhead. It was beautiful. My feet hurt, and I was aware that my shorts were a lot looser than just a few days ago. I looked at my watch. It was 9:30. I thought, right now I could be in a manager's meeting in a nice air-conditioned room. It was the only time I'd ever considered that I might prefer the office over being out in the forest.
A few minutes later I heard my husband calling to me. "I found it! I'll come up to get you." A short time later he appeared. Not only had he found the trail by bushwhacking, the trail was just around the corner from where I was sitting. If we'd kept looking we would have found it about a minute later.
We both had a huge 'aha' moment. We were both right. We would have found the trail if we'd kept looking like I wanted to...and he also found the trail using his method of going straight downhill. Our approaches were just different. But both worked.
Taking the lesson home
Although this happened over 15 years ago, it taught us both an incredibly valuable lesson that has impacted our marriage. We know we can each approach things differently and each get results. We understand and appreciate that there can be two ways to do something and both can be right. We often refer to this event because it was so powerful for both of us. It was a tremendous gift learned in a beautiful and most unlikely setting.
Practice this in your own relationships. Remember that both people can be right!
Lessons in unlikely places
We were on a long backbacking trip that would take us 60 miles through rugged territory. We were hiking on what's called a "primitive trail,' which means there isn't much of one at all. You have to find the route by looking for rock cairns or faint suggestions of a trail. We enjoyed doing these kinds of hikes because you travel into the most beautiful areas, and you have it all to yourself. You truly get away from it all.
The terrain on this trek was very steep, and we had to hike at least 13 miles a day. The summer days were sweltering. On the third or fourth day we spent most of the day navigating through what the trail description called 'braided trails' from wildlife movements. We faced a maze of trails, which resulted in us losing a lot of time to route-finding. Swarms of huge flies followed us, biting us with each step. We were drenched in sweat. We were looking for the trail through the pass which would take us to the last part of the hike, one that would have a more maintained trail. At that point, a real trail sounded wonderful. On that day, we were not having fun. We camped in an alpine clearing, deciding that we'd look for the trail through the pass in the morning.
The next morning we rose to a beautiful day and started out again. After several days of the rigorous hike, I was exhausted. I yearned for the last and easier part of the hike. I trudged uphill, the backpack like a 40 pound sack of potatoes strapped to me.
We got to the top of the ridge. No trail. We wandered around for some time. No trail. My husband, a man who can do anything, wanted to bushwhack through the dense forest, reasoning that we would eventually intersect with the downhill trail. I was not enthusiastic about crashing through the underbrush in bear country. That sounded like a recipe for getting lost in the woods. I wanted to keep looking for the trail, reasoning that we knew we were close to it, it was just a matter of time.
We had an animated discussion. Steve was determined to do his bushwhacking. He was confident he'd find the trail. Now, I had a great deal of confidence in my husband. I just was too tired to spend more energy making my way through forest. I needed the relative ease of a trail. We decided I'd wait on the ridge. My husband would go forth and see if he could find the trail.
I plopped down to wait. I looked at the view of the jagged mountain scape and the dense hemlock forest. A red- tailed hawk flew overhead. It was beautiful. My feet hurt, and I was aware that my shorts were a lot looser than just a few days ago. I looked at my watch. It was 9:30. I thought, right now I could be in a manager's meeting in a nice air-conditioned room. It was the only time I'd ever considered that I might prefer the office over being out in the forest.
A few minutes later I heard my husband calling to me. "I found it! I'll come up to get you." A short time later he appeared. Not only had he found the trail by bushwhacking, the trail was just around the corner from where I was sitting. If we'd kept looking we would have found it about a minute later.
We both had a huge 'aha' moment. We were both right. We would have found the trail if we'd kept looking like I wanted to...and he also found the trail using his method of going straight downhill. Our approaches were just different. But both worked.
Taking the lesson home
Although this happened over 15 years ago, it taught us both an incredibly valuable lesson that has impacted our marriage. We know we can each approach things differently and each get results. We understand and appreciate that there can be two ways to do something and both can be right. We often refer to this event because it was so powerful for both of us. It was a tremendous gift learned in a beautiful and most unlikely setting.
Practice this in your own relationships. Remember that both people can be right!
That's a wonderful way to look at what might be termed compromise - and no one loses!
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I like the idea of both people can be right. I want some cards that I can give out to people so they can check out your blog. I need my daughter to read this.
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