I could be wrong about everything

Being wrong is a conversation starter. (Image by Monika Neumann)

Being wrong is a conversation starter. (Image by Monika Neumann)

The fear of criticism prevented me from sharing my writing in the past.

Especially scary was the possibility that someone might tell me how wrong I was and be right about it, sending major cracks through the foundation my work is based on.

In fact, this fear didn’t just prevent me from sharing my writing — it prevented me from writing in the first place. That may have made me blameless, but it also made me bland. I wasn’t committing to a point of view, which meant that I wasn’t clear on what my point of view actually was. As a result, I couldn’t test my ideas to see whether they held up — I just drifted along without a clear sense of my values or a firm process in place for my work as an educator. Unable to articulate, even to myself, a particular philosophy, others could simply imagine that I shared theirs, and I let them do so without realizing that it was happening.

Since then, a few things have shifted. I learned from Kyle von Neumann how to identify and define my values, and then how to make explicit the values of the organizations I had created. I learned from Mandi Ellefson how to empower a team to carry forward those values. I learned from Seth Godin the value of making and testing assertions, even if (especially if) there’s a chance you’re wrong. to And I learned from Pia Silva how to put my work out there.

I understand now that not everyone will agree with the things I say — and that is the whole point. If someone disagrees with everything I say, we’ll probably go our separate ways. If someone disagrees with one thing I say, he and I each have the opportunity to grow or learn from that. We may begin to see things in a new way, or we may develop a deeper understanding of our own values. An idea, once shared, has a chance to move and shift and expand (and spread).

One of my most dearly-held beliefs is the idea that much of what we are taught and hold to be true is not fact, but belief. If these beliefs are not working for us, we can change them. The irony is that I could be wrong about that, too! My belief in the pliable nature of beliefs has made it easier to accept being wrong. That possibility no longer seems as threatening.

Most of the things I write and share are not based on facts, but on beliefs. They are the beliefs that help me contribute to the world and help others to do the same. If they aren’t effective, they have to shift. So I want to know if I’m wrong. If we’re collaborating, I want to know what isn’t working for you. It’s the way forward.

I could be wrong about everything — and I embrace that fact. It’s how I know I’m on the right track.

Is there an area of your life where you are holding back out of fear that you could be wrong? (I identified one for myself in the writing of this article.) What could change for you if you stepped forward anyway?