When I was a teenager in the 1990s, the government gave the impression that income inequality based on sex was best addressed by informing young women that no goal was out of reach. Eye-catching, vibrant pink promotions told me that institutional and cultural obstacles would crumble before my self-assurance.
Scholars have since disproven the notion that a person can fix their lives through optimistic thoughts. A writer, in his book Selfie, unpacks how the free-market ideology of fair competition fuels much of personal development trends.
However, there is a part of me that still believes that by putting in the work and assemble a solid dream collage, I can achieve my wildest dreams: the sole barrier to my fate is me. How do I find a point of equilibrium, a stability between trusting in my unlimited potential but not blaming myself for each setback?
The answer, according to an early Christian thinker, a theologian from ancient Africa, involves modesty. The saint wrote that self-abasement acted as the cornerstone of all other virtues, and that for those pursuing divinity “the primary aspect involves humility; the next, modesty; the final, humility”.
Being an ex-Catholic in my case, the concept of meekness may trigger a range of negative emotions. I was raised in an era of the church when worrying about appearance equated to narcissism; lust was deemed improper outside of procreation; and just thinking about masturbation could lead to punishment.
I don’t think that Augustine planned for this, but throughout much of my life, I confused “humility” with guilt.
Practicing humility, as per doctor Ravi Chandra, does not mean self-loathing. Someone who is healthily humble values their skills and accomplishments while recognizing that there is always more to learn. He describes various types of meekness: modesty regarding cultures; intergenerational humility; openness to learning; meekness about what one knows; recognition of room for growth; appreciation for others’ wisdom; modesty in the face of wonder; and meekness during hardship.
Psychological research has similarly found multiple perks stemming from modesty in intellect, encompassing greater resilience, tolerance and bonding.
In my work providing emotional care with elderly residents, I presently consider modesty as the effort of focusing on someone else. Humility is an act of re-grounding: revisiting, breath by breath, to the floor under my feet and the human being before me.
A few people who tell me repeated tales drawn from their experiences, over and over again, every time I see them. Rather than counting minutes, I strive to pay attention. I aim to remain inquisitive. What lessons are there from this person and the narratives they cherish when so much else has gone?
I try to live with the Taoist attitude which expert Huston Smith described as “productive stillness”. Ancient Chinese sages advise people to calm the identity and exist in harmony with the flow of creation.
This might be especially relevant as humans seek to repair the damage our species has done upon Earth. As written in her work Fathoms: The World in the Whale, Rebecca Giggs notes that being humble helps us rediscover “the primal self, the entity that fears in the face of the unknown". Taking a position of humility, of uncertainty, allows us to remember humanity belongs of a greater entity.
There exists an emptiness and despair that follows thinking everything is possible: success – whether this means attaining riches, shedding pounds, or winning the presidential race – turns into the sole valid outcome. Meekness allows for grace and defeat. I am humble, grounded in reality, which means the essentials are available to grow.
A passionate food enthusiast and travel writer based in London, sharing personal stories and expert insights.