Of all the virtues, it is perhaps humility that is hardest to hold. We all experience humility along the way by choice or by chance. But, to embrace it in our daily lives all day, every day, in a healthy manner, can be a challenge. Thus, we are given circumstances and people to remind us of our own fallibility, much like the slave who whispered “Memento Homo” into the ear of the conquering Roman general parading victoriously through the streets of Rome.
Even that great American polymath, Benjamin Franklin, recognized that humility tended to elude him no matter how hard he tried, commenting “In reality, there is, perhaps no one of our natural passions so hard to subdue as pride. Disguise it, struggle with it, beat it down, stifle it, mortify it as much as one pleases, it is still alive.”
I was raised by humble people, men and women who, though they weren’t living hand to mouth, were anchored down close enough to the earth to never have to be burdened with arrogance nor with what other folks thought of them. There was nothing to be gained by it. They simply did their jobs, minded their own business, and went home to enjoy their lives and families. Snobbishness was not even a consideration.
Over a childhood surrounded by this view of life, I came to recognize the humble existence as a pretty good one. There was no bragging or boasting, except when it came to college football teams. Arrogance in any form held no appeal. In fact, it was and remains, downright unseemly. In most circles it remains a justifiable reason for ridicule and scorn, as is only fitting.
But, the ego is a fickle thing. When you attain goals, sometimes you may start to think that it was all you, rather than the people who lifted you up and helped you along the way, in addition to no small amount of divine grace, that got you there. You are tempted to listen to the people that tell you how wonderful, how talented, or how smart you are. You start to rest on your laurels a bit. Heaven forbid, you may even start to believe some of those flattering things you were told. Thus, it becomes a battle to feed enough of that ego to keep you hungry without letting it devour you.
Even if you are successful in this endeavor to keep the beast in check, regardless of your station in life, there is a temptation from time to time, under certain circumstances, to pull some accomplishment or accolade, or simply the desire to be “right” out of the bag and show it off, even if only discretely. I had opportunity to do so in a conversation myself recently. Here’s how it went:
It was the first truly cold night of winter for us here in south Georgia. By truly cold, I mean temperatures hovering all the way down near the freezing mark! That’s right, 32 degrees Fahrenheit, if you can imagine it. Hard to fathom, but it happens. My wife and I were discussing the day’s events as she browsed her ipad.
“Looks like we need to bring the plants in (from the back porch) tonight”, she said.
As a side note, you should know that when statements like this are made, I tend to assume, often incorrectly, that in such cases “we” means “you”.
“Nah”, I replied. “It’s only supposed to get down to 32 degrees. We’ll throw a sheet over them. They’ll be fine.”
Having 25 years of experience with such resistance, she was ready with a rebuttal. “The people who know say we need to bring them in.”
I can only assume she was referring to that illustrious font of wisdom known as the meteorologists. With this response I thought surely she had played into my hands. There are many things about which I willingly cede that others, including “the people who know” are more knowledgeable than myself, but when it comes to plants I am quite confident in my own abilities. I grew up helping my grandparents in their gardens. I grow tomatoes, peas, squash, eggplants, onions, sweet potatoes, okra, and collard greens in my own garden every year. I grow satsuma and lemon trees in the back yard. I have thus far had a 28 year career in agriculture. I have worked in everything from cotton and peanuts to tobacco, pine trees, and pecans. I was a county extension agent for four years. I have been farming pecans in orchards that I planted for the last 20 years and I have been employed as an agricultural scientist by a major land grant University conducting research on pecan trees for the same amount of time. I am paid for my professional opinion on such matters.
This is where I made my mistake and let that sly and calculating ego out of the bag. “I’m a tenured Professor of Horticulture”, I remarked confidently.
Alas, she found my qualifications lacking. They were nothing next to those of the guy confidently atoning his dire predictions against the green screen. My comment did not have the desired effect. Instead, it prompted “the look”. If you’re married, you know the one. She replied with even more confidence, “Hmmph, we need to bring the plants in”. I was reduced once again to the status of the prophet in his own country.
I will leave the conclusion of this story to your own imagination but safe to say that my wise ancestors who so valued the humble approach to daily life were correct in their assessment. It’s easier to be happy when you remain humble, or at least make an attempt at it. As Benjamin Franklin wrote, “I cannot boast of much success acquiring the reality of this virtue (humility), but I had a good deal with regard to the appearance of it.”
Thoughts From The Orchard 