Not About Fault: Focusing On Solutions

Lately, my kids are very into assigning blame. Everything that goes wrong is somebody’s fault. “It was her fault I’m hurt. She pushed me!” “It was my fault the milk spilled. I hit it on accident.” “Mom, it’s your fault I had a bad day. You didn’t remind me to bring my library books back!”

I hate it. First of all, I was a kid too and I know full well that no fight between kids is all one person’s fault. And accidents and forgetful mistakes are a fact of life, not an intentional slight. But most of all, I hate it because it shines the flashlight on the wrong part of the story. I don’t want to hear about who caused this issue – I want to hear how we’re going to fix it.

Forbearance is the value that helps us pivot from the offense into a solution. When we lay down our right to demand penance from another person, we can start to think about how to prevent it in the future. In our community, we can start to talk about hard and uncomfortable things without worrying that the other person is somehow going to hold it against us.

As with all connection building values, the key here is that we get to practice it when we want. No one can force you to waive your right to be treated well. You get to decide when enough is enough. You get to decide when you need that person to understand the weight of their actions. And you get to decide when maybe they need a little break from the consequences, so you’re willing to bear the upset. We all have free will here. Please also be mindful - you don’t get to tell other people to practice forbearance. If you’ve screwed up and they’re calling you on it, that’s ok. Say sorry, make amends, and honor their feelings. You are allowed to make mistakes and they are allowed to be hurt by those.

When forbearance is practiced consistently over time, it starts to change the community’s culture to be less transactional. There are fewer debts and obligations, less “maybe I should’ve” and “are they mad at me?”  We show people time and again that their imperfections, their bad moments are welcome in this place. We’re not going to assign blame. Maybe we’ll change things up and find a solution, but mostly we’ll accept that vulnerability encourages us to see our faults but also acknowledges that those faults don’t define us.

I hope that one day my girls won’t remember every toy their sisters broke or every word spoken in anger. More importantly, even if they do remember, I hope they don’t let those bad moments overshadow the deep and valuable connection they have. How much more so must I commit myself to doing the same for my friends?

How does letting go of being right help you stay connected to other people? When do you choose not to practice it?