Alonebutnotlonely: Pride and Predicament

My mother was the youngest of five daughters born to a tall, handsome farmer and his charming and always elegant wife. The girls were beautiful. Each with their own distinct personality and talents. Each a favorite among the school girls and longingly admired from a distance by the boys. There was no greater love though than the love that these sisters had for each other. Such little women as these could conquer the world and be very well dressed doing it. They were well read and they were trained in the art of decorum and they could all set a pretty table. Their father was happily surrounded by these 5 young ladies who adored him; took after their petite and classy mother, blessed his life with laughter and drama and gave him so very much to worry about. A primary concern of his being that they were to avoid pride at all costs.

How often the girls fretted about it. To have pride must be something far worse than anything else. I’m sure they never actually made a plan of action but when my mother, the youngest, came of age it was a well establish procedure. Compliments were deflected rather than enjoyed. (The accepting of compliments that is - not the giving of them. Giving them to one another was done freely and honestly, and filled with love) But a response to, “What a pretty dress!” would often be answered by something like, “Oh dear, it just makes me look so fat!” or “I know that color is all wrong for me!” or “It would look so much better on…” well enter the name of another sister here! And if they showed accomplishment in any number of their many talents, the response to praise was the same…a humble denial that it was not anything at all to be sung about. This way they could do well but not appear to be egotistical or proud.

This procedure was never actually explained to the next generation of girls, the daughters of these sisters, we were always just reminded of how Grandpa warned that his girls (and now we were included) should not be found having pride. It seems that through our childhood observations what we girl cousins unconsciously adopted instead was;

1) the strong sense that we could do whatever we wanted to do in life and

2) an innate ability to over indulge in the art of self-criticism

A state (I’m reluctant to acknowledge) of Pride and Predicament. The predicament being that ironically this attempt at humility through self-criticism actually forces you to think about yourself more than you would otherwise.

So let’s think about this:

C.S.Lewis said that:

“Humility is not thinking less of yourself, it’s thinking of yourself less.”

But then there’s Einstein who said:

So let’s don’t throw the whole self-criticism out. Perhaps we could call it self-analysis. Would that put a more positive spin on it? Self-analysis requires comparison though right? And as luck would have it…

And Theodore Roosevelt warned that:

I suppose that’s because comparison could lead to jealousy…..

Ok. That can’t be good because….

So….instead of making a comparison why not take the advice of Ralph Waldo Emerson who said:

“Our best thoughts come from others”

And start saying:

And perhaps if we look at those successful people who are doing things that we truly want to do (or to do better) as mentors rather than someone who makes us feel poorly about ourselves then we are opening the whole world up to possibilities.

Remembering of course that we can still be successful if we follow our own abilities and talents and don’t think we have to do what everyone else is doing! Einstein warns: