Shame, shame.

Faith, gratitude, humility. Faith, gratitude, humility.

These three.

I'm convinced these are the basic cornerstones of contentment. Every time I feel tweaked I can trace it back to the juggler in my head dropping one of these balls.

Today I felt ashamed for exposing a bit of emotional underbelly. Nothing too dramatic, and nothing unwarranted. But I was rattled in general by the situation, and when I felt the pins knocked out of me I wobbled toward a familiar sense of shame. One that accompanied me regularly in past, and the sensation touched off a reunion of ill feelings that roamed together too recently in the same old gang.

So I did my little trace-the-problem-back-to-the-basics thing and picked up where my juggler dropped the Humility ball.

My shame today was prideful. My shame about feeling genuine emotion must be dangling from a creeping wish for a personality other than what God gave me.

But if I were truly humble, I would accept myself - if only on the basis that I don't know how the world needs me presented in it. I don't want to try to be part of the grand scheme, in a manner other than how God fashioned me.

This is the first time I have looked at humility in a bountiful light, rather than limiting. Recognizing myself as possessing the range of my fundamental traits -- comfortable to live with or otherwise -- for good reason. What I think to be shortcomings may actually be crucial assets toward my unique contribution to the world.

In past it seems I have always experienced humility in a grim glare of self-effacement. Gone at it rooting out weeds of grandiosity and artifice, but also strangling self esteem as collateral damage. Humility, I am beginning to realize, is as much about accepting your essential self as it is about rejecting pretense to be seen otherwise.

I am what I am because God wanted it that way and I don't know why, but my understanding is not necessary. My place is to suit up and show up. And to bring that embarrassed sensitivity with me. I might need it today. Or someone I meet may need it. And I will have it there with me to help them.

Resistance to self-acceptance runs through my kind. It shows up especially after we get banged up a bit. Unsettled and uncertain. Sloshing back and forth between outward resentment and inward self-loathing.

I sometimes wonder if that runs to our cores, or if it's just below the surface. Like layers you might be able to work through, and sand them away forever.



BK