THE SECOND STEP TO CHANGING A BELIEF is letting it go. Releasing it. Freeing yourself from a belief, however, is far more than just an intellectual decision. Liberating yourself from a belief is often not as simple as deciding to disagree. Disengaging from a belief is more than a conclusion that you come to; it’s an event with life-changing implications. Letting go of a belief is an act of will requiring that you take a precious jewel of immeasurable value and drop it into the deepest part of the ocean, where it can never be found again.

Deciding you want to break your agreement is a necessary step, but if you absolutely want to change a belief it can’t be done by thinking or affirmation alone. Remember, the intellect retrieves information from your library of knowledge, applies it to the situation at hand, and the Interpreter expresses what you have come to believe. You don’t believe what you think; you think what you believe.

The attachment to what you believe is often way too strong to be broken just by saying to yourself, “I’m done with this. I want to stop.” Obsessive or addictive behavior like overeating or smoking is rarely changed by putting a sign on your refrigerator stating, I’m thin, or I’m smoke free. Behavior is the belief expressing itself and cannot be changed simply by changing your mind. What drives your behavior is not what you think but what you actually believe.

Really letting go of something is a lot like true forgiveness. Consider the act of forgiveness. Are there people whom you have not forgiven? Are there things you have done that you have not forgiven yourself for? Why not?

Often, we just can’t forgive. Although we may want to completely let it go, the debate in our minds and the emotion tied to the event are too strong, especially when the offense has occurred repeatedly over a long period of time. Our insistence on not forgiving and the arguments that support that position become a jewel of immeasurable value. The attachment is very powerful, much like the tale of Gollum from the book trilogy The Lord of the Rings, and his addiction to his “precious”—the One Ring.

Listen to the discussion in your mind when you don’t forgive, when you can’t let it go. It’s all about what you did and what they did. Who should have done this or who should have done that. Who’s right and who’s wrong. It sounds like an argument. It sounds like a lawyer arguing a case.

When lawyers come before the judge to plead a case, they provide evidence, cite precedent, and present an argument with one specific goal in mind. They are there to prove they are right. If you listen to what you say to yourself when you think about someone you can’t forgive, what you hear is an argument about being right. You can’t forgive because you need to be right.

The reason we can’t let go of what we have come to believe—even if it is no longer serving us, even if we now disagree—is because we are the champion of that point of view and will defend it at every turn. We need to be right.

Have you ever listened to someone complain that what they really want is impossible to get? If you listen closely to what they are saying, they will present all sorts of evidence to prove their point. If you suggest another way of looking at it they will likely respond, “Yes, I hear what you are saying . . . but.” The Yes, . . . but indicates they are addicted to their need to be right.

In order to let go of an agreement you have made that has been reinforced thousands of times—that has your attention, hooks your mind with its point of view, and has an emotional perspective that is both powerful and overwhelming—give up the need to be right. Giving up the need to be right stops every avenue where the belief is expressing itself. It suspends justification and evidence gathering, blocking the primary source of nourishment—you. Deciding to give up the need to be right is not just a thought but a far-reaching action that releases your investment of faith. Faith in what you believe.

Giving up the need to be right does not mean what you observe isn’t accurate. You just give up your interpretation, because that’s where the attachment is to being right.

As an example, suppose you see a homeless man on the street. He appears to be sick and doesn’t seem to have much energy. His clothes are torn and tattered. He looks dirty, as if he hasn’t bathed in a long time. In your mind you may start to think about how you might help him. Maybe you can even save him from whatever has gotten him to this place. Perhaps you start thinking about how this person is lazy, and if he just got a job like everyone else he wouldn’t have to live on the street. Maybe you are disgusted by anyone who would let themselves get into such sorry shape.

What you notice about the homeless man and the condition he’s in is most likely correct. The rest of it is your assessment, your interpretation. Whether you are going to be the hero, the social worker, or the reformer is all about the need to be right.

Everybody defends their point of view. Nobody likes to be made wrong so why give up your need to be right? It’s such an integral part of our culture. We are trained from a young age to be right. Being right is a way to be accepted. Editorials; call-in shows; court room battles; terrorism; debates in coffee shops, classrooms, and the bedroom all touch on the need to be right. You could try to convince yourself that you should give up your need to be right because of some moral argument about forgiveness or because it sounds like a reasonable thing to do. For me, there is only one solid reason to give up the need to be right. Because it feels good.

Years ago I went on a trip to the Inca ruins at Machu Picchu in Peru with don Miguel. One day he asked me, “Why am I here?”

I thought about it and I said, “To teach us.”

“Nope,” he replied. “Wrong answer.”

I thought about it some more and said, “To change the world.”

“Nope,” he replied. “Wrong answer.” He was in a particularly feisty mood that day and although I had several clever answers come into my mind, part of me knew I was still headed in the wrong direction.

“Okay,” I said, “tell me. Why are you here?”

“For pleasure,” he replied.

It took me years to understand what he meant. At first, I thought it was about physical pleasure, like getting a massage or lounging in a hot tub and sipping fine wine.

What I began to understand was that he deliberately acted in certain ways because of the emotion it invoked—because it felt pleasurable to him. He loved to play, laugh, and have fun. No matter what kind of exchange I had with him, there was always a sense he was meeting me with kindness, respect, and love without conditions. So I tried it too. The emotion tied to treating myself and others with respect, kindness, and love was highly pleasurable. Learning to stop the world, turning off my mind and riding moment to moment in a sensation of feelings with no words to describe it, was delightful. Somehow, merging with nature, breathing it and allowing it to breathe me was exquisite. I learned when I aligned my attention and intention with the creative power of love without limits I felt tremendous pleasure.

Giving up the need to be right is like that. One compelling reason to give up the need to be right is pleasure. If you take the time to notice how you feel when you take any action, without using words to define your perception, you may discover that emotions advise directly based on how it feels.

The action of giving up the need to be right allows your attachment to the viewpoint of the belief to crumble, igniting an emotion that is simply delightful.

To completely let go of an old belief that is no longer serving you, give up the need to be right.

The Power of Belief, by Ray Dodd (Hampton Roads, ISBN 1-57174-404-5 $14.95) is available from www.everydaywisdom.us and from amazon.com.