Dead to Rights
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"Do you prefer that you be right or happy?" (T-29.VII.1:9)

Talk about a cold bucket of water over the head of a steaming mad ego. Ever notice your need to be right? How it's an affliction of just about everyone you know? Ever wonder where it comes from?

Its beginnings can be traced straight back to the very origins of this illusory world.

When the idea of separation was first considered, we sided with the ego. Talk about a gamble you'd want to be right about! We thought an individual identity might make us happier than Heaven. After all, we could experience 'special love' instead of that plain old 'equal love for everybody' notion God was busy imparting in his infinite way.

We could carve out our own identity. No more of this, 'Hey, you're as wonderful as the next guy' routine for us! We could have a body which we could then decorate with more muscles, shinier teeth, a more impressive residence, faster cars. No one could mistake us for anything less than 'better than everyone else'. And with that, special love would surely be ours!

We could do some creating of our own. Forget all about that ethereal spirit 'be everywhere all at once' junk! I'm thinking some green, like maybe in trees and plants, and some blue, maybe in a sweeping ocean vista, and browns, yeah browns, in some imposing mountains. Oh, almost forgot the delicate white of clouds amongst the peaks. Dab that in there. Don't forget the silvery glitter of diamonds, the purr of velvet, the aroma of home baked bread. Yeah, we could do better than God - we just knew we could!

One problem.

We were wrong.

Dead wrong.

As wrong as wrong as wrong can be.

And now? Well, ever notice when someone is wrong about something, when they're feeling insecure, that their response will be doubly ferocious to protect against being exposed?

Imagine how badly we must want to be right to protect against how all-encompassingly wrong we've been. It doesn't get any bigger than this. It doesn't get any more wrong than this.

Being wrong about this means wrong about everything. Us. The world.


If we are wrong about us, then that means... uh-oh, I can see where this is going: No more us! And if we were wrong about God it means our selfish aspirations split apart the oneness of Heaven. Torn it asunder. The perfect, beautiful, eternal beauty of Love. Holy Toledo! That would bring a mother lode of guilt and fear of reprisal. Talk about walking back through the Pearly Gates with your tail between your legs.

Oh, how wrong we were!

Oh, how guilty we feel! It's almost unbearable to look at. In fact, it is. And so we don't.

Instead, we hide behind being right about all the little things, in unconscious recognition, - and protection - against being wrong about God.

And, brother!, does our guilt make us ferocious when someone tries to make us totally wrong about anything at all.

Luckily, it never happened. It was a wish unfulfilled. We only imagined it. Sure it feels real. That's why we respond the way we do, because it feels so real. But it isn't.

Until we realize this, with the help of our (ulp!) right mind, we will stubbornly insist we're right about just about everything.

Maybe we could look a little deeper. Ok, a lot deeper. Maybe we could forgive ourselves for being wrong. Maybe, if we did just this one thing, maybe it would change everything.

After all, this is the one thing we want to be wrong about.

Luckily, I'm right about that.