Helpful Humility

by Rebecca Crichton

Let’s start by admitting that Americans are not given to valuing Humility as a virtue, let alone a regular practice.

Even discounting the current publicly displayed examples of unbridled hubris (excessive pride or self-confidence — in case you need the reminder), historically, we tend toward boasting and self-aggrandizement.

Being open to humility is not just healthy for us; it is essential for our social cohesiveness. Many faith traditions recognize Humility as an important virtue. The Jewish practice of Mussar — a systematic examination of understanding our Soul Traits with the desire to develop and refine them — starts with the trait of Humility, considering it fundamental to who we are. It teaches that Humility is about finding the proper balance between arrogance and self-effacement, between our needs and those of others.

An uncomfortable and indelible experience with a friend caught me by surprise. I was describing conflict in a new relationship. I regaled my listener with all the ways the person had disappointed me, including previously known troublesome behaviors. “You are arrogant,” my friend said. “You think you are so special. You believed this person wouldn’t treat you the way they treat others!”

After my initial annoyance — I thought he was on my side! — I realized he was right. I did believe that being in relationship with me would be such a different experience that it would be transformational. It would make them change some of their default and embedded behaviors.

In my presentations about aging, I sometimes ask people if they have been successful in changing others. That always gets a laugh. “Who can you change?” People point to themselves. Easier said than done!

Humility requires recognizing both our gifts and limitations while valuing and acknowledging others’ perspectives and experiences. It can promote openness to feedback and lower defensiveness. At its best, humility can be a powerful way to strengthen relationships and increase empathy.

Humility is not about meekness and weakness. Nor is it about submissiveness and self-effacement. Instead, it is about finding our place in the encounters of our lives. Yet again, it reminds us to accept both/and as opposed to either/or.

Humility can provide an antidote to the self-fixated spirit of our age. InTales of the Hasidim: The Later Masters, Martin Buber shares a Hasidic teaching:

Every person should have two pockets. In one pocket should be a piece of paper saying: “I am but dust and ashes.” When one is feeling too proud, reach into this pocket and take out this paper and read it. In the other pocket should be a piece of paper saying: “For my sake was the world created.” When one is feeling disheartened and lowly, reach into this pocket and take this paper out and read it. We are each the joining of two worlds.

Perhaps practicing humility can increase the possibility for constructive dialogue, mutual understanding, and compassion. I often remind myself to be aware of the space I inhabit in any given interaction. I try to discern what the appropriate boundaries are for myself. That brings me back to my fundamental question: What is mine to do?

I don’t always know the answer. I sometimes won’t know what calls me until I am presented with something new. It might mean I spring into action with help, advice, decisions, or support. Sometimes it means waiting to see what unfolds, being willing to feel the discomfort of not knowing what is required.

Almost always, it means listening to what someone else says, feels, and possibly needs from me without assuming I know the answer. Listening at a deep level is my first step in practicing Humility.