Over the holidays I witnessed several disagreements. Nothing serious, just typical quarrels, everyone involved determined to prove their point. Alcohol tends to bring out the debater in people, but even many sober people seem to genuinely enjoy arguing.

Some points are facts – medical issues for example, or how to properly take care of wool. Lots more are opinion. Should a certain book belong on the best seller list, or is it there only because of the author’s fame? Should underwear show above a young man’s pants, which are hanging down practically to his knees, or is respectful attire more important than personal freedom? Why does modern music have to include vulgarity?

Certain subjects are important and worth arguing, but many aren’t. And how often do we succeed in convincing someone else to change their opinion, especially on things that don’t really matter in the long run? Not very often – at least not in my case.

I remember one squabble Neil and I had years ago. It was a stupid one, as most of ours were. Frankly, we were only still arguing because we both had an intense need to be right and to have the last word. It went on for a ridiculous amount of time, as neither wanted to concede, even though on some level we both wanted it to end.  

It was at Al Anon that very week that I learned a powerful tool. I had the ability to diffuse the situation completely and quickly by my own words:

“That’s an interesting perspective; thanks for sharing it.”

What a powerful sentence! It told Neil I heard his opinion, because after all, everyone wants to be heard and understood. It didn’t necessarily mean I felt the same way. By refusing to debate, I gave up my chance to be “the winner”, but it didn’t matter. I salvaged my peace and serenity instead.

This little sentence has come in handy over the years. After Neil died, I got lots of unsolicited advice: sell the house, invest in bitcoin, work more hours, travel while you can. At first, I tried to explain why a lot of those suggestions wouldn’t work for me, but some people got down right aggressive in their recommendations. So instead, I simply said, “That’s an interesting perspective, thanks for sharing it.” It’s an honest answer that shuts down any further argument. People know I heard them and appreciated their suggestion even if they don’t know whether I agree with it. 

These days, I don’t want to argue about modern music or clothing. I don’t need to be right about which books belong on the bestseller list or debate the best way to save for my future. But I do want my serenity, and I will continue to treasure it quietly!

What do you think?