The Paradox of Humility

There has been a rising appreciation for humility in leadership circles. The concept of servant-leadership has been widely extolled, and its basis is in being a “humble” leader. In many of my coaching conversations, I hear leaders talk about developing humility because it will make them better leaders. Adam Grant, in his most recent book, Think Again — The Power of Knowing What You Don’t Know, speaks extensively about confident humility in leadership. He strongly emphasizes the need for intellectual humility in leaders, and encourages them to develop a mindset of “rethinking”. All very genuinely helpful!

But the question that really creates the discontent for me is do we truly desire humility or do we desire what humility (or its projection!) can give us — more validation, more influence and more success? Therein lies all the difference.

Recently, I have come across several posts on social media where people talk about humility (and receive a lot of likes!) or post about them being “humbled” by the likes they have received. One of them read, and I paraphrase, “So deeply humbled by (famous person) and how he appreciated my interview. Thank you @(famous person)”. And then that post received a lot of likes, and the interview received an incredible amount of more views!

The origin of the word “humility” lies in the Latin root “humus”, which means, “soil”, “earth”, or “ground”. Humility is to feel like the soil or the earth — a place where we place our feet. Take a moment to notice how you feel or react when you read that statement. Did you feel inspired? Did you feel a need to change the definition of humility so that it can “feel” more appropriate? If you felt inspired, why?

Humility is to be in touch with ground reality, especially about who we truly are. The reason why this definition of humility is perhaps disconcerting is because it is completely antithetical to what our ego desires. At Upbuild, we define the ego as an identity that we think we should be, project outwards, and want to be validated for, rather than who we truly are. And by its very construct, the burden of humility is impossible for the ego to carry. In other words, there is absolutely no place for the ego in humility and vice-versa.

Thomas Merton, the Trappist monk, talks about humility as a self-protecting virtue. When we are truly humble, the ego can’t feel good about being humble! That is the paradox. The moment we say, “Oh, good! I am such a humble person…”, humility disappears. The only thing that humble people experience is full presence in and acceptance of ground reality. And that ground reality is many times not palatable to the ego.

Humility becomes the corridor for genuine empathy, love and deep wisdom for the world. When we are with people who are truly humble, we experience a depth of being and a sense that they are simply instruments for a higher purpose. Humility never announces itself! Nor does it even want to be noticed because it strives to be free from being appropriated by the ego. But others feel extraordinarily uplifted in the presence of such a humble person.

What the ego can do though is appropriate humility for its purposes. That “shadow” humility, as much as it may look like the real one, has one major flaw. It wants the recognition of being “humble” and relishes the recognition when it comes — in that quiet corner after everyone has left! Some of us may ask, “Well, what’s wrong with that? It still produces more good than not!” Very true! But here is the risk and a serious one.

As soon as the ego relishes the recognition, it will only want more! That is the ego’s nature. And before we know it, we will simply be a shell of humility that will choose to dilute the definition of humility itself, and everyone will feel its inauthenticity. Most will, unfortunately, choose to follow that example, because it is much easier than working towards true humility. As a society, we are already heading in this direction. Which is why it is important to ask the question — do we desire true humility or simply its projection?

True humility begins when the ego becomes ready to die. That journey is not an easy one, although it is a necessary one, if we are to ever realize who we are as separate from the ego and return to that ground reality. Humility is the reward for striving to walk the journey towards the real self, and is the only means to separate the real self from the ego. It is only when we strive to separate our true self from the ego’s stronghold, do we even begin to understand how trapped we are in our ego patterns. We begin to honestly acknowledge how mired we are in the insecurities of the ego, and in pursuit of the ego’s desires for validation. In that acknowledgement are the seeds of humility. In that humility is the freedom from our ego. Which is why humility is not cheap. It’s presence signifies actual freedom from the ego, which is never a small thing!

As C.S. Lewis so eloquently states in his book, The Problem Of Pain, “Humiliation comes before humility”. That “humiliation” is the clear recognition that the ego is always inadequate because it can never be our true self. We begin to call out (or call in!) the repeated patterns of our ego. Herein lies the true usage of tools like the Enneagram. As the ego learns to truly let go, we will begin to experience the dawning of humility. And when it gets recognized, it knows all too well what the ego’s game is, and does not indulge in it!

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The Antidote to Envy

“Always remember that envy gives the strength to excel!” These were my aunt’s parting remarks during the summer of 1986, as I boarded a train back to my hometown just before the start of a new school year. Even as a third grader, those words left a lasting impact on my consciousness.

Year after year, the medals piled up and the accolades filled several folders — one of the main driving forces behind it all was that one statement my aunt made. It gave me the strength to compete with the best and either equal or excel them. But along with it also came subtle, powerful and deeply imprinted “side-effects” that I, only later in life, recognized were disempowering and distortive to my reality.

Envy is a universal experience. It pervades our culture — from schools to corporations to family life — but is rarely addressed openly or easily recognized. Rather, it masks itself under different, more palatable terms such as “competitive spirit” or “drive”.

In plain terms, it is best defined as an emotion that occurs when a person lacks another person’s perceived superior quality, achievement, or possession and desires to possess it, wishes that the other lacked it, or both.

Psychologists have suggested that envy can be classified into two types — malicious and benign. They claim that benign envy can be used as a positive motivational force in achieving one’s goals. However, there is a fine line between the two and often we quickly and unconsciously degenerate into the shadow side. In such situations, it can be easy to forgo everything — even close relationships — to acquire what we obsess over.

Dr. Richard Smith, a professor of psychology at the University of Kentucky, states that much of the economic crisis of 2008 may well have been fueled by runaway envy, as financiers competed to avoid the shame of being a “mere” millionaire.

The Bhagavata Purana, one of India’s classics on yoga and spiritual wisdom, describes envy as the older brother of hatred. It states that envy corrodes all virtues — a poisonous venom that dries out all gratitude, love and compassion, so that others’ misfortune and downfall can taste like honey.

In 2005, while I was a student at Cornell University’s business school, my friend and classmate Vishal and I applied for a covetous position at a large investment bank. We were both excited about the prospect and exchanged ideas and information on our individual applications. Eventually, we both got selected to the final round of interviews.

Slowly, our mutual sharing and joy started to disappear. I started avoiding his phone calls. In class, we played subtle mind games. We would talk about the various deals in the financial markets simply to prove that each knew more than the other.

As the interview day approached, I started to lose sleep — not because of the interview, but the possibility that Vishal would get the job and I wouldn’t. Deep inside I feared that he was smarter than I was. Yet, I could not admit that to myself. To compensate I sat up all night practicing my interview questions to make sure I would ace them.

As fate would have it, Vishal got the offer and I did not. The pain of reality could not have been more bitter. As email congratulations flowed for Vishal, I could feel my heart pounding in rage and hatred. While having lunch at the atrium, I saw a relaxed Vishal happily chatting with friends. I interpreted that as him showing off and instinctively convinced myself that he was simply happy at my misery.

That evening as I sat with a few friends studying for a finance exam, I started to talk about how Vishal had deliberately not helped me with certain interview questions. Unconsciously, I began to assassinate his character. There were things about his past that he had shared with me in confidence that I started to make public. I felt “satisfied”.

As I walked back home, I felt that I had lost something deep inside. I tried to distract myself by watching a movie, but the feeling only got heavier. As I explored it further, I realized what had happened. It was hard to accept at first, but denying it felt like a bigger burden.

I realized that envy is the most unfortunate aspect of human nature. Not only is the envious person rendered unhappy by his or her envy, but they also wish to inflict misfortune on others. Envy makes it hard to appreciate all of the good things we have received in the moment, because the one who envies is too busy worrying about how he or she is perceived. I resolved to put an end to this.

The next day, I approached Vishal and openly expressed my feelings to him. Tears filled my eyes as I sincerely apologized for my behavior. I told him that I truly felt that he was the better candidate to receive the offer. I felt the pain of the honest appreciation pass through every pore of my body.

To my surprise, Vishal was touched, which further humbled and embarrassed me. For the first time, I was able to appreciate his softhearted and forgiving nature. I felt grateful to have my friend back again.

The next day, I hosted a dinner at my house for Vishal and a few friends to celebrate his accomplishment. As I personally cooked and served everyone, I felt renewed, invigorated and cured of a chronic disease. I felt free.

That evening I understood the true purport of yet another statement from the Bhagavata Purana which states that envy is nothing but appreciation that is corrupted by a strong obsession to exclusively possess what we value. Envy results from a deep-seated desire to be the lord and master of all that we survey. It is the strongest weapon of the ego in its relentless pursuit for self-aggrandizement.

If we can strip away the desire to possess and control what we appreciate or value in others, we can experience the true beauty of the traits, recognizing that they have been given to a particular individual for its best possible use.

Celebrating the success of another helps us recognize the qualifications of the individual who has been given certain gifts, and it helps us to be inspired by his or her qualities. Such celebration is the perfect antidote to the poison of envy.

Tolerating Provoking Situations

Two weeks ago, my very dear teacher and mentor, Sacinandana Swami, opened his talk to an online audience with a quote from Wayne Dyer, “When there is pressure, what comes out is a sign of what is inside. When a lemon is squeezed, we get lemon juice. When a mango is squeezed, we get mango juice.” It was confronting. Just a few minutes before, I had made a distastefully sarcastic comment to my wife, having lost my patience on something trivial. 

I was stressed, and I was suffering. We were going into week 7 of the quarantine. The situation in NYC was quite depressing, and the news left me with very little to bank on. Days had begun to merge; my coaching sessions had been relentless and emotionally draining. And just the week before, our 10-month old daughter had developed a high fever that had left us on edge. Her sleep patterns were changing as well, leaving us without much sleep at night. On top of all that, I was internally battling negative memories from an old relationship with a then dear friend and colleague that to-date has not been resolved.  

In the broader scheme of things, my suffering was insignificant. And yet, it had enough of an effect on my consciousness to create self-absorption. What came out was bitter and leaked out on my wife, who was also going through her own stresses. I had reasons for commenting the way I did, and perhaps they were justified. But my behavior ended up creating more suffering. 

Our egos are fragile. Especially when things are so out of control as they are now, the ego’s need for control is challenged in unprecedented ways. It causes enormous stress and suffering.  In a culture where rugged individualism and self-expression is strongly encouraged, we have had very limited training on tolerance and patience. And while during normal times, this lack of training may go relatively unnoticed, these trying times are stark reminders of how our fragile egos have never been prepared for walking through our stresses with grace. 

Tolerance and patience help us not to perpetrate our suffering. They train our fragile egos to hold our suffering, take full responsibility for it, humbly ask for help, and transform our suffering into strength of character. When we don’t learn how to do this, our egos redirect this stress to others around us, willingly or unwillingly. As one of my favorite authors, Richard Rohr, a Franciscan friar, quotes in his book Falling Upward, “What does not get transformed, will definitely get transmitted.” 

Tolerance is not pleasant. It does not let us escape, nor does it let us react. Instead, it creates much-needed space between stimulus and response, and forces us to look at things within us that we don’t want to fully own. It makes us feel weak at the time it is being applied. Many times, tolerance is confused with being passive. Naturally, we avoid applying the principle of tolerance. 

But it has consequences – small and large. On a small scale, we become short-tempered and say things we later regret (but justify!). On a large scale, our ego goes unchecked, becomes progressively entitled, relinquishes its sense of responsibility, and looks for other people to serve its endless needs. Both the small- and large-scale effects of the unchecked ego create suffering for others. As Richard Rohr puts it in Falling Upward, “In the process of avoiding our necessary suffering, we create a lot of unnecessary suffering”. We are all too familiar with this, especially in our current political environment. That potential to create the unnecessary suffering exists in all of us, if we don’t learn how to tolerate the stresses we experience. 

We are at a time of transition, and transitions are never easy. My personal experience of transitions has taught me one important thing – how we walk the time of transition is what creates the new “normal” on the other side. As we look towards a new “normal”, I personally want to bring the capacity of more tolerance in my daily life. The great Bhakti yoga teacher, Swami Prabhupada, who is credited with bringing the Bhakti tradition to the West, writes, “The greatness of a person is demonstrated by how the person can tolerate provoking situations.” I sincerely want to strive for that definition of greatness.