Humility

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I am happiest when I am humble, yet humility and I are often at odds. I wonder why that is. My maleness? My ego? I bristle when a kind soul offers directions to a known location. “As if I didn’t know!”

I often stop to offer my services as photographer when I see a tourist capturing their family without them in the picture. And, inevitably, they tell me how to use an iPhone camera. My first reaction is to correct them. “Yes, I know it’s the little white button on the screen.” Do they think I am ignorant?

In a quieter moment, I understand they want only to help, not to criticize. I need to take a deep breath. Smile. Thank them for their kind advice—even though I didn’t need it.

When a customer explains to me the basics of stereo—offering an unwanted lecture—I do my best to listen and thank them for the information so generously offered. I find far more reward from this activity than the opposite.

Yet change is hard for me. My instincts are self-serving—to set my turf, establish my credentials.

My greatest joy is serving others, but making this behavior a habit is challenging.

Of all the souls I know, I find the battle with myself is the hardest.