Humbleness out of the blue
A feeling of humbleness can strike you when you least expect or have time for it and when it's the last thing on your mind. And when it does, it can be very profound.
This is especially the case when you're focused on your life, your pressurised timetable, your goals, your stresses, your excitements and your immediate reality. And this happened to me the other day.
I was trying to achieve a myriad of tasks to a timetable and had a lot of other things on my mind too. One of them involved paying in a cheque from a client at the bank.
There was a man in front of me in the queue chatting away to the bank clerk who nodded with a politely disencouraging smile as he had finished his transaction. I just wanted him to shut up and move on so I could pay in my money. But there was little sign of any let-up in his gently rambling and soft voiced monologue. He was getting into his stride and I was getting impatient.
When he finally turned round, prompted by a look in my direction from the cashier, I suddenly felt too harsh and intolerant for privately cursing him.
For this small and deceptively frail man, who looked much older than he probably was due to an obvious illness, smiled at me so warmly and apologetically. I could tell he was sorry for delaying me unnecessarily. I smiled back and reassured him that it was no problem and I wished him well.
By his need to tell his story to the cashier I guess he was also lonely and his infirmity only reinforced this. This upset me. I felt an urge to protect him and, yes, listen to his story.
It also made me feel very humbled because it gave me perspective and reminded me that, no matter how switched on we are, or think we are, there are always opportunities to become more aware and more accepting of others, more forgiving and more humble - not matter how much we have to get done.
This is especially the case when you're focused on your life, your pressurised timetable, your goals, your stresses, your excitements and your immediate reality. And this happened to me the other day.
I was trying to achieve a myriad of tasks to a timetable and had a lot of other things on my mind too. One of them involved paying in a cheque from a client at the bank.
There was a man in front of me in the queue chatting away to the bank clerk who nodded with a politely disencouraging smile as he had finished his transaction. I just wanted him to shut up and move on so I could pay in my money. But there was little sign of any let-up in his gently rambling and soft voiced monologue. He was getting into his stride and I was getting impatient.
When he finally turned round, prompted by a look in my direction from the cashier, I suddenly felt too harsh and intolerant for privately cursing him.
For this small and deceptively frail man, who looked much older than he probably was due to an obvious illness, smiled at me so warmly and apologetically. I could tell he was sorry for delaying me unnecessarily. I smiled back and reassured him that it was no problem and I wished him well.
By his need to tell his story to the cashier I guess he was also lonely and his infirmity only reinforced this. This upset me. I felt an urge to protect him and, yes, listen to his story.
It also made me feel very humbled because it gave me perspective and reminded me that, no matter how switched on we are, or think we are, there are always opportunities to become more aware and more accepting of others, more forgiving and more humble - not matter how much we have to get done.
posted: 2 Feb 11