Humility

"Humility is the greatest shaper of souls and crafter of character, for it wipes way all the grandiose things that we spend so much of our lives pretending to be, so that we can spend all of our lives being the exceptional person that we were actually created to be."

~ Craig D. Lounsbrough

My favorite definition of humility goes something like this: we are able to see ourselves accurately, no more, no less, than who we really, truly are. The problem is, none of us are that objective. I spent years with an eating disorder, accidentally glancing into mirrors, seeing a large, ungainly woman who SURELY must over eat her way through cupcakes and honey buns every single night. The problem was, I weighed 97 pounds and lived off of coffee, lettuce leaves, and a small square of cheese daily. The resident mouse in my apartment at UVA probably consumed more calories than I did.

I read an article recently by a woman who had gained weight during the pandemic. She went shopping and loaded up her cart with all "smalls" - only to get stuck in one of the tops, requiring a sales clerk to help free her from the offending shirt-scissors were required. Assuming that this particular brand had "shrunk" sizing to save money, she huffed out of that store and went to three other women's clothing stores before reality began to sink in. She no longer wore a size 2. Those of you who do not care about your weight shrug your shoulders and think - whatever. First world problems. Be that way! But most of us feel a little humiliated just hearing the story (humiliation and humility are two wildly different things).

We all have SOMETHING. We all have some trait, skill, craft, defining feature that we associate with being US. And truth be told, we like it. Other traits we hate. But is any of it real?

My daughter and I are walking the Camino this fall and I needed to update my passport. I ran into the local CVS, where they conveniently take your passport pictures. I stood there as the very nice guy took my photo (don't smile), offered me three options, and I chose my passport image. What I did NOT say to him, although I thought it, was, "Who is this OLD woman?" My neck is wrinkly, my skin pale (thanks melanoma for my sun aversion), and everything sags. And that's only my face! But here is the thing. YOUR passport photo looks fine to me, you look like you. Perfectly lovely. What's up with that?

Well, humility. It is hard. As I drove home, I thought about the Camino. The purpose of the walk and the fact that my daughter chose me to go with her. I thought about my leg, the one with the big scar that makes small children curious and prone to poking it with sticky little fingers. I remembered how for months after my melanoma surgery I walked like a pirate, trying to ease the discomfort as the stitches pulled and tugged at what little skin I had left on that shin after four surgeries in total. My grandchildren got so good at imitating my walk and an amazing pirate's cackle that I grew kind of fond of my disability. I pondered these things in my heart. They were surely not as important as Mary pondering over Jesus, but nevertheless, I gave it a good ponder.

And I realized that I was in the midst of a humbling experience. Not because I am old and pale and wrinkled and hide one of my legs most days to avoid curious questions. I am humbled because my kid sees me as I am, she knows that we may only have a few more years when we can take a fabulous trip together and she wants to get those trips in while we can. I will humbly haul out my passport as we board the plane to Portugal. The TSA agent will recognize me immediately. I am ok with that, because I can walk. Wait. That's not right. I can walk a long way for an extended period of time without a pirate's limp because; melanoma and age may be wearing me down, but I am not going down without a fight. And for an old lady, I am fit enough to walk the Camino with my girl and by golly, I am going to do so.