Today I Choose to be Fair minded – How to be Fair minded

Being fair-minded isn’t always easy when emotions are high. I’ve had moments in leadership meetings where I wanted to bite someone’s head off, or family dinners where I thought, Why can’t everyone just see it my way? But then I think of Tyler, my logical, steady son, who once looked at me mid-rant and said, “Mom, you’re not wrong, but you’re not seeing the whole picture.” And he was right. Fair-mindedness means stopping to remember that my truth isn’t the only truth in the room. It’s not about being neutral — it’s about widening my lens. At 60, I’m still learning that being fair-minded doesn’t diminish my convictions; it simply makes me a better listener, and oddly enough, a stronger advocate for what really matters.

That moment with Tyler stopped me cold. I was ranting about a work situation — someone had undermined a project I’d spent months on, and I was building my case like a prosecutor. Evidence mounted, fury rising, righteousness absolutely on my side. Tyler listened, nodded, then dropped that truth bomb. “You’re not seeing the whole picture.”

My first instinct was defensiveness. I’m 61, he’s 25. I’ve been in business longer than he’s been alive. But then I saw it — his face, patient but firm. The same expression I used to give him when he was convinced the world was ending because someone took his toy. He was returning the favor, teaching me what I’d taught him: there’s always more to the story.

The Challenge of Fair-Mindedness at This Age

You’d think by 61, fair-mindedness would be automatic. We’ve seen enough, lived enough, learned enough. But honestly? Sometimes age makes it harder. We’ve accumulated so many experiences that prove our point. We’ve seen patterns repeat so often that we think we know the ending before the story’s done.

I catch myself doing this constantly. New employee reminds me of someone from 1987? I’ve already decided who they are. Family member makes that face? I know exactly what’s coming. Situation feels familiar? I’ve pre-written the entire script.

But fair-mindedness demands I stop, breathe, and admit: maybe this time is different. Maybe I don’t know everything. Maybe — just maybe — I’m wrong.

Fair-Minded vs. Neutral

Let’s be clear: fair-minded doesn’t mean neutral. I’m not Switzerland. I have opinions, convictions, hills I’ll die on. Fair-mindedness doesn’t require abandoning those.

It means holding my convictions while making space for others’. It means fighting for what I believe while acknowledging I might not have all the information. It means being passionate AND curious — not passionate OR curious.

Like in that meeting where I wanted to bite someone’s head off. The CMO was pushing a strategy I knew would fail. I’d seen it fail before. Multiple times. My entire body was screaming “NO!” But fair-mindedness made me ask: “Help me understand your thinking.” And damn it, he had a point I hadn’t considered. Still thought he was mostly wrong, but that 20% he was right about? That changed everything.

The Physical Resistance to Fair-Mindedness

My body fights fair-mindedness. When I’m convinced I’m right (which is often), my body locks into battle mode:

• Jaw clenches, ready to argue
• Shoulders rise, preparing for conflict
• Breathing shortens, fight mode activated
• Mind races, building arguments
• Heart pounds, ready for war

Fair-mindedness requires overriding all of that. It’s physically uncomfortable. It feels like betraying myself, my instincts, my truth. But that discomfort? That’s usually where growth lives.

The Tyler Test

Now when I’m absolutely certain I’m right, I apply what I call the Tyler Test. I imagine him sitting across from me, saying, “You’re not wrong, but you’re not seeing the whole picture.” Then I force myself to look for what I’m missing.

Sometimes I find nothing — I was right all along. But more often than I’d like to admit, I find something. A perspective I dismissed. A fact I overlooked. A feeling I minimized. A context I ignored.

It’s humbling. And annoying. And absolutely necessary.

Fair-Mindedness in Family Dynamics

Family is where fair-mindedness gets tested most. These people, I know them. I know their patterns, their triggers, their games. When my mother starts a sentence with “I don’t mean to criticize, but…” I know exactly where we’re heading.

But fair-mindedness asks: What if this time is different? What if she really is trying to help? What if my defensive response is preventing a real conversation?

Last Thanksgiving, she started in on my recipe (names redacted to keep the peace). Instead of my usual defensive response, I tried fair-mindedness: “What specifically bothers you?” Turns out she would have rather seen it more vegetarian based – as she leans that way.  Not wrong, just different.  Not a critique of my way, just a suggestion about her way.

The Workplace Balance

In leadership, fair-mindedness is crucial but tricky. You need conviction to lead, but rigid thinking creates blind spots. The balance is delicate.

I’ve learned to say: “Here’s what I think, and here’s why. But I could be wrong. What am I missing?” It shows strength (I have a position) and wisdom (I’m open to input). It invites collaboration without weakening authority.

The younger employees especially respond to this. They’re used to leaders who pretend to know everything. When I admit uncertainty while maintaining direction, they trust me more, not less.

Fair-Mindedness with Myself

The hardest person to be fair-minded with? Myself.

I’m either too harsh (beating myself up for every mistake) or too lenient (excusing patterns that need changing). Fair-mindedness means seeing myself accurately — not through the lens of shame or the lens of denial, but through the lens of truth.

Yes, I screwed up that presentation. But also: I was operating on three hours of sleep while managing Curtis’s care. Both things are true. Fair-mindedness holds both.

Yes, I’m building something meaningful with Enlightenzz. But also: I’m avoiding other things by burying myself in work. Both things are true. Fair-mindedness sees both.

The Generational Challenge

Being fair-minded across generations is particularly challenging. It’s easy to dismiss younger perspectives as naive or older ones as outdated. But fair-mindedness requires respect for both experience and fresh eyes.

When Jesse tells me “nobody cares about email anymore,” my first instinct is to lecture about professionalism. But fair-mindedness asks: Is he right? (Partially, yes.) When my Aunt insists on formal thank-you notes, my first instinct is eye-rolling. But fair-mindedness asks: What value am I dismissing? (Connection, thoughtfulness, effort.)

The Power of “Help Me Understand”

These three words have transformed my ability to be fair-minded. Instead of “You’re wrong,” I say “Help me understand.” Instead of dismissing, I invite explanation. Instead of attacking, I express curiosity.

“Help me understand why you think that will work.”
“Help me understand what you’re feeling.”
“Help me understand your perspective.”

It’s not agreement. It’s not surrender. It’s fair-mindedness in action — creating space for someone else’s truth while maintaining your own.

When Fair-Mindedness Feels Like Betrayal

Sometimes being fair-minded feels like betraying my own experience. When someone hurts me and I try to understand their perspective, it feels like minimizing my pain. When someone’s wrong and I acknowledge their partial rightness, it feels like weakening my position.

But fair-mindedness isn’t about choosing their truth over mine. It’s about acknowledging that multiple truths can coexist. They can be wrong AND have reasons. I can be hurt AND understand why they acted that way. My position can be strong AND incomplete.

The Exhaustion Factor

Let’s be honest: fair-mindedness is exhausting. It’s so much easier to be rigid, to know what you know, to close the case. Fair-mindedness requires constant openness, constant questioning, constant growth. At 61, sometimes I just want to be done learning, done growing, done considering other perspectives.

But that’s death, really. Mental death. Spiritual death. The day I stop being fair-minded is the day I stop truly living.

Fair-Mindedness and Boundaries

Important distinction: fair-mindedness doesn’t mean accepting unacceptable behavior. I can understand why someone’s acting badly while still maintaining boundaries. I can see their perspective while still saying no.

Understanding isn’t endorsement. Compassion isn’t permission. Fair-mindedness isn’t weakness.

The Ripple Effect

When I model fair-mindedness, others around me become more fair-minded. When I say “I might be wrong,” others feel safe to say it too. When I ask “What am I missing?”, others start asking themselves the same question.

Tyler learned it from somewhere, after all. That moment when he challenged me to see the whole picture? He was giving back what I’d given him. The circle of fair-mindedness, coming full round.

Today’s Choice

Today, choose to be fair-minded. Not neutral, not weak, not without conviction. But open. Curious. Willing to see the whole picture, even when you’re sure you already do.

When you’re absolutely certain you’re right, pause. Apply the Tyler Test. Ask “What am I missing?” When someone disagrees with you, try “Help me understand” before “You’re wrong.” When your body locks into battle mode, breathe and create space for another perspective.

Remember: fair-mindedness doesn’t diminish your truth. It expands it. It doesn’t weaken your position. It strengthens it with understanding. It doesn’t make you less — it makes you more.

At 61, I’m still learning this. Still fighting my instincts to be right rather than fair-minded. Still catching myself pre-judging, pre-deciding, pre-knowing. But when I manage it — when I truly widen my lens and see the whole picture — everything shifts.

Arguments become conversations. Conflicts become collaborations. Enemies become humans with different perspectives. And I become a little wiser, a little kinder, a little more like the person I want to be.

That’s the gift of fair-mindedness. Not that it makes you right, but that it makes you whole.