Are you a "Right-Fighter"?

Okay, I admit it. I sometimes enjoy watching the Dr. Phil show. I've also read his recent book, "Life Code". This book lists some excellent signs of the criminal mindset. While Dr. Phil doesn't call them signs of the criminal mindset, nearly every one listed in his "Evil Eight" or "Nefarious Fifteen" are found in abundance in prisoners.

One concept Dr. Phil often talks about is, "Are you a right-fighter?" In other words, is your desire to be right stronger than every other desire? Do you find yourself defending yourself or your position at the cost of solving a problem or healing a relationship? Are you so focused on being right that you miss the bigger picture? 

I am a "right-fighter". It's not something I'm proud of, and now that I'm aware of it, I seek to surrender my need to be right in order to achieve what's more important. That doesn't mean a sarcastic response of, "You're right... you're always right!" It means suspending the need to express my position in order to better understand another's. It's the desire to find common ground to build on rather than erecting a monument to my own "rightness." And sometimes it means walking away from a disagreement because two right-fighters will never find common ground. 

I often wonder how many relationships I've lost or damaged because of my need to be right. I've been told plenty of times that I'm arrogant, and I'm sure it's usually because of my need to be right. It's time for a change. I think the hardest things to let go are lies about my actions or character. But I've come to realize that if I live my life in such a way that I am known as trustworthy and a man of integrity, then I don't need to worry about my reputation. I can instead focus on healing relationships with those I've hurt and disappointed, and on building new relationships where people feel value by me.

Maintaining Mindfulness

We live in such a harried and hurried society that people have lost all sense of what is important. And many are looking or ways to re-connect with their purpose. There's a lot of talk these days about a concept called mindfulness. At first thought it might sound like an eastern mysticism concept, and it may actually have its roots there. But mindfulness is not meditation, or mantras. Mindfulness is about acute awareness of the moment. 

When we become overwhelmed by "tasks" we are so focused on DOING that we forget the BEING. Sure, at the end of the day we might have accomplished much, but at what cost? What cost to our health because we don't have time to exercise or eat nutritious meals? What cost to our psychological health because we are ruled by the demands of the urgent? What cost to our relationships because we put projects ahead of people? What cost to our families because we are overcommitted and invested in lesser important things?

Mindfulness is not only about acute awareness of what's important thought. It's a purposeful focus of our minds on positives in our lives. 

Depression, while sometimes clinical in nature, often starts with an unhealthy focus on a negative event, or loss (perceived or real) in one's life. Mindfulness acknowledges the event or loss, but rather staying tied to the hitching post of the past, it uses the past as a sign post that points toward the future. Depression is often a result of focusing all of my energy on the event or loss that I miss the beauty of the here and now. Mindfulness is a deliberate choice to loose oneself from the restraints of the past and see the potential in today.

Fear is much the same way. It is an unhealthy focus on the "what-ifs" of life. What if I don't get the job? What if he or she rejects me? What if my marriage fails or my kids don't turn out "right"? Whatever the fear, it is an unhealthy focus on the potentials of the future. The future is not promised to us, but when we live our lives focused on the potentiality of what may happen we lose the joys found in the moment. We let fear rob us of health, of time, and of awareness of the beauty of now. 

Mindfulness acknowledges the presence of fear, but refuses to give it power to rob oneself of the only thing guaranteed to us: the moment we are in right now.
Next time you're tempted to dwell on fear, or stay tied to the hurts of the past, remind yourself that every moment has value and ask if the fear or hurt is worth trading for today's joy.