Universal Rules: # 10. There is no "right" way. There is just "this way, today."

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The perils of "right way" thinking seem obvious. When we hear a story of some huge blow-up between people, and realize that you have two people locked in a "rightness" battle that can have no winner, it's one of those, "of course" moments -- and we get that "right" has nothing to do with it. Often the real game is, "If you love me you'll do it my way."

The other game in a right/wrong battle is egoic. By this, I mean that the thing being argued over stands in for the person. Personalizing the impersonal is quite common. A popular one: having a bad day because our favourite team lost a game. Sad face, endless discussion of plays, and, always, "We lost!!!" Well no, "we" didn't lose, unless perhaps you are actually a player on the team. The people who lost are the players who actually played the game. That people don't get this and correctly say, "They lost!!!" speaks volumes.

My favourite therapy tale about the "right way" is one I wrote about in our first communication booklet. Here is what I wrote, followed by an expansion and discussion:

I worked with one couple where both spouses worked. She was on a flex shift. She was expected to look after the kid, make the beds, do the laundry and wipe out the sink, polishing the faucet to a mirror finish. If she failed at any of these tasks, there was hell to pay. Especially those faucets.

No amount of reasoning or looking for a compromise would sway Mr. Clean. 4 days of perfection, then a spot on the handle, and out would pop the "evil twin." He’d criticize, acting superior and all. I gently suggested that there was no tap in the world worth destroying a relationship over. "Yes there is! Mine! This is the way I was brought up and this is the way it is and either she does this little thing for me every day or the relationship is over!" And so it was.

Now, needless to say, this wasn't the whole story. I spent several sessions working with this couple, (let's call them Sally and Sam) and found that the husband absolutely refused to let go of his upbringing. He'd had a stay at home mom who kept the house surgically clean. He had been looked after and pampered all of his life, and when he got married he expected his wife to treat him as he expected to be treated. There were several problems with this. 

1. Sam wanted Sally to look after him like his mother had. This required that his every need be met, and especially the unspoken ones.
2. Sam wanted Sally to treat him the way Sam saw his mother treat his dad. Sam wanted to be king of the castle, lord of the manor. When Sam spoke, Sally was to jump.
3. Sam wanted an active and full sex life, with Sally performing on command. His mother had made it clear that she didn’t like sex all that much, so Sam assumed Sally did too. In bed, he ordered Sally around, yet never completely enjoyed sex. This, of course, was Sally's fault.
4. The faucets. Mom had always (apparently - this is what Sam told himself) done the "magic 3" things. The fulfillment of 1 & 2 above were encapsulated and crystallized in the faucet and sink being spotless.
5. Sally was a budding feminist.

I quite liked Sally. She was clearly at her wits end, had tried a couple of things to resolve the issue, and had persuaded the king of the walk to come to therapy. Sam, of course, thought the therapy was to "fix" his "broken" wife. Sam was heavily invested in convincing me of his benevolent nature – the "all I need Sally to do is this one thing for me. (The faucets.) Is that so much to ask?"

Well, of course, it wasn't one thing. It was an endless list of things. Sam saw "broken" everywhere Sam looked. Sam saw his role as educating and rescuing. If only his poor, pitiful, indecisive and now ungrateful and angry wife could see that Sam was only doing this for Sally's own good.

And then Sally dared to grow up, expect to be treated as an adult and began acting out in ways Sam didn't approve of!

Now, it may sound like I'm "blaming" Sam for the problem, and in a sense I am. I'm not blaming him personally, though. I'm blaming his approach. Sally was pretty flexible. She tried different approaches. She reasoned. She made requests for change. In fact, prior to the marriage ending, she had agreed to simply do the "magic 3" every day. Then, she had the nerve to get sick and not "do" the taps.

I hadn't liked her giving in to Sam. This approach didn't resolve the underlying issue. I kept urging Sam to grow up and leave his childish vision of adulthood behind. Sam was adamant. This was how "all" men were, this was how men "deserved" to be treated. To Sam dirty taps were disrespectful of him. They were never simply dirty faucets.

This is why right/wrong discussions are in the main irresolvable. 

As soon as either party thinks that there is only one way of seeing or doing things, dialog and creativity are over. 

And yet, it is human nature to both normalize our thinking and universalize it into "truth." So, in a sense, in order to move beyond thinking there is only one "right way," (and isn't it funny that the right way is never the other person's way… how interesting…) we have to be willing to let go of consistency and certainty.

Now, needless to say, that's scary. The stuff we believe in most firmly is "old, old" stuff. As soon as we mutter or shout, "That's just the way it is," we know we are stuck in the mouldy past, reliving and re-stating what we were taught as a child. I know that, when I am overtired, I revert back to a whiny 6-year-old, who simply wants mommy to show up and make it all better. I think I also expect that the "make it better" part is either: a hug, a cookie or a present. I just thought of that, and suspect now I know why I always have a credit card balance. But I digress.

So, you might look at that and wonder what's wrong with my expectation. Well, what's wrong with it is several-fold. First, I'm expecting someone else to come and rescue me. What this means is that I'm letting myself off of the hook for resolving my own issues. Second, I expect whoever rescues me to act like my mother.  Third, I'm looking for a bribe to behave, not a resolution of the issue at hand. I could likely think of more problems with my whiny approach. 

If I think that what my 6-year-old wants is "the right way," I am doomed. If I see it as old information, and therefore one possibility among many, then I allow myself choice. And notice: I'm not judging the 6-year-old in me to be bad or wrong. I am judging that acting like a 6-year old is "wrong," in that it doesn't get me what I really want. 

I can't tell you how many people I know that are smart enough to understand this, yet refuse to change a behaviour that doesn't work. And then I think of Gandhi, who cancelled a march because of the danger. A reporter said, "How can you change your mind like that? People are looking forward to the march." Gandhi replied something to the effect of, "My commitment is to truth, not consistency."

Gandhi is stating that truth is relative, expanding and changing, all the time. Truth is "this way, today." Truth is, "Let's try this a different way and see what happens." Truth is, "I don't have a clue. Let's look for another way."

This week, look at the stories you tell yourself, about your "truths." About how the world "should" be. About how others "ought to be" acting or treating you. Then, have a breath, give yourself a shake and do what you can. Let go of your rules, and look instead for another way. "This way, today."