BitterSweetLife

A Small Step Toward It



Humility is a demanding and awful taskmaster. It persists in cutting me down to size, and I can't say I really enjoy the process. In fact, I've devoted considerable energy to avoiding situations where humility could really corner me...and I feel, paradoxically, that admitting this fact may help me get closer to what humility really is.

The reasons anyone would choose to proactively pursue humility remain elusive. In fact, I can't think of any, except those modeled by Christ - that is, divine blessing, intimacy with God, refreshing transparency, the ability to really learn and grow, eternal life, etc. Beyond these perks, humility makes no sense. Which is what this poem is essentially about.

::

Against Humility

I picked up the dog-eared volume again,
the one I've thumbed through and like to skim,
and boldface in the preface is "Humility and sin."
My book says the payouts for the humble are high,
and I guess I can see why.
People would eye me with that shine in their smiles
because I'm the modest type of guy—and why not?
I'm not one to push, I don't cut in lines,
my put-downs are all in good taste.
I won't tell you off to your face.
"Humility" is what I call it.

It's a little like running in place,
but the results you can get with the placebo effect
are enough to take to the races.
And it gets even better; there's no money down;
I can still take my pride to the bank.
Inside, I can still be swank; I cogitate with a swagger,
and this is a saving grace,
because pride and I have a history,
you could say we rent our own place.
Be it intellectual, physical, or flat-out empirical
I know that I'm better than you
and I'll maintain it against all odds.
I suspect it's the right thing to do
and I stand on my principles.

Somewhere around paragraph two,
the book says I could live with the truth
but I prefer to keep pushing myself
and I'm a little afraid, so I keep aloof
from the cost that the truth might demand.
If I put on this humble attire
I think I'll be scantily clad.
Or, what would be just as bad,
I might feel the wind through the holes.
The books says fresh air could redeem me
but I fear it would blow me away.

Humility has a pleasing ring, I think
it's a promising tactic,
but the side effects seem so steep.
Maybe after I've had some sleep,
and some more thought, I'll be ok.
But for now, I'll shelve the book,
and put the humble pie away.
I have so much to digest,
and I've already swallowed my pills for today.

::




A related post: In Search of Smallness