Learn to be diligent by observing . . . (Click image for video)

Sometimes, 

proving that we’re right isn’t worth the price.

(Part 2) 

It is so easy to get caught up in daily discussions that we often don’t consider their trifling nature. Does it really matter whether we turn right or left in a drive around the lake?

And yet, in the midst of a disagreement, we lose sight of this. We feel compelled to set the other person straight. And fail to notice that in our attachment to our viewpoint, we’re upsetting the other person.

What’s the point of winning an argument at the cost of distressing someone we care about? Or anyone, for that matter. What comfort will we find in being right when we contribute to another’s sadness? Or in our insistence, we cause their fears to increase, perhaps in their worry over making yet another mistake.

All this so that we can be right? The unhappiness we will cause is pointless. Sometimes, it’s best not to tell others that they are wrong.

Most of the time, we really don’t need show the world we are right.

Learn to be patient by observing . . . (Click image for video)

Sometimes, 

proving that we’re right isn’t worth the price.

(Part 1) 

Once upon a time, a young couple was driving to the lakeside cabin where they were planning to spend their honeymoon. Approaching a junction in the road, the wife said, “We should turn left here to get to the other side of the lake.”

The husband replied, “We could, but I was told that by turning right, we’d get there quicker.”

She responded that surely going left was better.

With a hint of irritation, her husband retorted that no, he had also checked the map before they left. And his route was best.

“I’m sure I heard my sister say to turn left,” she said.

“No! We need to turn right!” he retorted heatedly.

The wife was almost in tears. “I’m sure we go left.”

Seeing the tears welling up in his wife's eyes, he realized that the direction didn’t really matter. What mattered was the wonderful person next to him. His face softened, and he said gently, “Sorry. You’re right.”

“Thank you,” she said as she squeezed his hand.