“This is wrong.” The words didn’t just interrupt the silence but they completely broke it. They hit my ears through my AirPods like a loud crack in a quiet room, shaking up everything that had felt calm just moments before. Suddenly, the air felt heavy, with disappointment, frustration, and a feeling I wasn’t prepared for. This meeting was already turning out very differently than I expected. Just a week ago, everything seemed to be falling into place. I had helped turn a nearly cancelled event into a full-on “Yayy, we’re doing it!” moment. As a leadership team, we had made what felt like the right decision, one based on integrity and what the situation truly called for. But what I didn’t see coming was how those same decisions would place ME at the center of an emotional storm I neither started nor anticipated. It was already one of those weeks – the kind that made my stomach feel like it was in a constant spin cycle. Every morning, before even checking my phone, I felt a twinge of dread, wondering what new curveball was waiting for me. Then came that meeting, the one that carried the faint smell of stale coffee and tension, where everything slowly started to fall apart. A team member – someone who I see as so passionate about the brand we both work for – was more than furious. Not at the organization. Not at the decision-makers. At ME. “Why wasn’t I told about this?” “Why does this keep happening to me in my territory?” “You knew… and you still kept it from me.” Each accusation felt like an arrow sharpened with personal hurt and aimed at me as though I was the architect of her exclusion. I could see it in her tearful eyes, betrayal as if she had experienced this in the past, wrapped painfully in disbelief. The room felt closed as if the door knob was stuck, unable to open so nobody suffocates. Painful yet empathetic. I had come prepared to explain everything calmly, but the anger and tears pouring out of her told me this wasn’t the moment for explanations. She wasn’t ready to see anything beyond her own pain and I had to respect that, even as it broke the room open in a way none of us expected. As a leadership team, we had come together with what we believed was the right approach – a face-to-face meeting. A gesture to say, “You matter. Let’s talk.” We were prepared to explain the confidentiality behind certain decisions, the intent, the bigger picture. But the moment the virtual meeting proceeded, the emotional temperature of that team member rose several notches. The walls felt smaller. My pulse quickened in a way worried because the event was happening in that team member’s territory and I truly believed that the event would be happily successful only when the person on the ground supported and did not create mental or physical barriers. But here it goes again – “This has happened before,” she continued, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “Plans in my region. And I was left out. Again.” I tried to steady myself, only to improvise – what would make this person feel good or change the state of mind. “It’s truly not personal,” I began gently. “We’re following protocols and -” She cut me off. “Protocols? Etiquette? That’s just an excuse. You and your lies. This is wrong. YOU did this to me on purpose.” The words sank in hard. Not the team, not the system, but me. I felt like a scapegoat. A listening wall. The accidental villain in someone else’s story. I also felt like some past unhealed energy was emerging out and I wanted to offer kindness mentioning that I would like to take care of you, can you give me a second chance? I gathered myself, fighting the urge to make this meeting fruitful instead of going over the same drama again and again. “Let’s move forward,” I said quietly, “What would help you feel better right now? How can we fix this together?” But her gaze was locked in place, finger practically pointed into the air at me – not the organization, but ME. “What she did is wrong. And I can’t believe the organization is okay with this kind of behavior.” Then came the blow that felt more personal than professional – “You know there are people in the team who already don’t like working with you, right?” And that’s when it hit me – like a dull ache at the back of my throat thinking that’s it this got to be a personal attack and no explanation from my side would make this situation better hence I let my bosses handle it. This wasn’t a conversation anymore. It was an emotional collision. Logic didn’t stand a chance. Since this was a professional situation, I knew I had a choice; either let it pull me in personally, or step back and stay grounded. That’s when I began shifting into a space where improvisation replaces control; where solutions aren’t about proving who’s right or wrong, but about how you respond when everything feels like it’s falling apart. In that space, freedom and empowerment don’t come from winning the argument. They come from choosing better responses especially when the old ones only keep you stuck in the emotional chaos.
By now, you might be thinking, “Wow, what a story!” It sounds dramatic (almost entertaining, even), but let me ask you something; who do you think was right or wrong in this situation? Your answer probably depends on your own values, beliefs, and principles. And honestly, that’s true for all of us. What feels right to you comes from what you believe. What feels wrong depends on your lived experience. So here’s my say to you – there is no universal “right” or “wrong.” Everyone has their own version of what feels fair, unjust, or acceptable. And I invite you to consider this; what if we stopped obsessing over who’s right and instead learned to empathize to accept someone’s feelings without necessarily agreeing with them? Because pointing fingers at people or situations doesn’t change a thing. Blame doesn’t bring success any closer. If anything, it keeps us stuck in the same emotional loop. But this isn’t a post about blame; it’s about breaking free from it. It’s about embracing the idea that everyone is right and wrong at the same time – including you and me. But how is that even possible? How can two people both be right and wrong in the same situation? Isn’t someone supposed to be at fault? Let’s explore that.
Imagine this scenario: An employee suddenly goes on a long leave – no email, no text, no emergency message. Just silence. Two weeks pass, and the manager, now worried and under pressure, begins reaching out to alternate contacts. Finally, the employee’s mother picks up the call. Her voice is heavy with worry as she explains, “He’s been in a serious accident. He’s unconscious in the hospital. The doctors say he will recover, but it may take a month or two.” The manager feels an immediate rush of sympathy. Of course he does. But back at the office? Things are falling apart. The organization is losing a key client because this employee who was deeply involved in critical work has disappeared without notice. The manager is scolded daily. He can’t find a replacement quickly enough. And eventually, the company loses the client. At the end of the month, the leadership team decides to give him a final warning. Tensions rise. Fingers point. Blame spreads.
Now pause for a moment and ask yourself: Who’s right here? And who’s wrong? Is the leadership team wrong for being angry about losing a client? Is the manager wrong for choosing empathy and trying to support an employee who went through a traumatic event, one he never chose? Is the manager wrong because he could not find a replacement? The truth is, both sides have a point. Both sides are doing what they believe is right. But they’re also both struggling with the consequences. So if both can be right and wrong at the same time, what does that mean for the way we see conflict and now the only way forward can be – how we deal with it?
I invite you to think back to a moment in your life when something felt completely wrong to you, an experience or incident where you were so sure you were right that you refused to change your approach or attitude. Reflect on that moment. I am not asking you to judge who was right or wrong. Just look at it objectively and see if it’s possible to detach from the situation, letting go of personal emotions and simply observing it as it was.
I don’t remember where I came across this recently, but it struck a chord – Every problem that arises is rooted in human self-centeredness. Even the Bhagavad Gita teaches a similar truth by letting go of the self/ego, we free ourselves from conflict and suffering ultimately empowering ourselves. And isn’t that what we are all truly seeking?
Most of the time, our ideas of what’s “right” or “wrong” come from three things: 1. Our state of mind How we are feeling in that moment; our emotions, our confidence, our sense of control – shapes how we react. 2. External influences The people around us and the environment we are in. We often worry – Will this affect how others see me? Will I lose respect, or even a workplace promotion? 3. Our past experiences hence Our choices How we have been treated before, what we have learned from similar situations, and the memories that guide our words and decisions now.
So the next time a situation unfolds; pause and reflect. What’s your instinct? Are you trying to prove you are right, or are you looking for a way forward? Because if your goal is progress, then what I am about to say will truly resonate – Improvisation is the only way forward. When we improvise; whether through a shift in our words, our actions, or our attitude we move away from self-centered reactions and toward solution-focused responses. We stop getting stuck. We start creating momentum. And yes, I will say it again (and again) – Improvisation is the key. So starting right now, I invite you to practice this in every small or big moment. Either work toward a thoughtful solution or choose to let go, offering forgiveness; not to be saintly, but to protect your own peace. Because when we prioritize inner harmony over outer battles, that’s where true freedom and real empowerment begins.
