Flying As stated by:
It’s a simple equation, really. The larger the ego, the greater the payout in terms of social standing and perceived influence. Now, sure, humiliating someone once in a while might theoretically tip the scales back toward some semblance of balance, but in most practical scenarios, it just triggers an equal and opposite reaction. It breeds resistance, which in turn fuels even more massive ego inflation—people start crafting this impenetrable, invincible persona of themselves, presenting an image of being utterly unshakable and immune to any slight or setback. They convince themselves they are these uncompromising warriors fighting for a cause. I see it in my own reflection too; after every major disaster or personal failure, I find myself dancing along the edge of some secular version of a messiah complex. And let me tell you, that is a dangerous place to be.
This whole discussion about balance brings to mind a specific part of that "priestly" concept of humility that has always rubbed me the wrong way. It’s the notion of humiliation—a term that, if you ask any clergyman, they’ll tell you is central to the whole idea of being truly humble.
A direct connection. When we talk about the concept of humility, what we are really discussing is the only thing capable of balancing out an ego that has already spiraled into pure arrogance, sheer conceit, and unadulterated pretension. If one can actually manage to achieve that balance—which is a tall order, let's be honest—it serves as the final safeguard against being fundamentally wrong, both in our own eyes and in the eyes of everyone else around us.
Sin.In such an instance, a crushing blow to one's pride might actually serve as a necessary corrective—a harsh lesson that could potentially steer a person back toward a sense of equilibrium. Of course, that assumes the individual possesses even a modicum of capacity for introspection.
What the Pope is attempting here—and what we see whenever similar demands for humility are made in these contexts—is nothing more than preemptively projecting one specific failure onto everyone else. To demand humility, or rather humiliation, under the guise of "regulating the ego" is essentially a preemptive strike; it’s a way of whipping someone before they even have a chance to step into the mud, all to ensure they never get anywhere near it. This forced submission is being framed as a necessary prerequisite for recognizing our own "mere humanity," our inherent ignorance, and our capacity for error. Personally, I find this to be an extreme overreach and profoundly unfair to the concept of human good will. By forcing a person to live in a state of constant, anticipatory shame simply because they are a human being and not God, the logic becomes inherently flawed. The notion that a person should proactively "beg for mercy" because they are crushed by their own potential for mistakes is, frankly, repulsive to me. Ultimately, the idea that a human can exist in a state of perpetual shame alongside God is a concept I find entirely impossible to accept.
To is fundamentally anti-life; it smothers that inner spark within a person, systematically eroding their self-confidence and stripping away the very dignity that defines our humanity. Such doctrines serve only to diminish the individual, reducing a living, breathing soul to nothing more than a passive, hollow vessel.
Perhaps the sheer volume of depravity and malice we see in this world stems from a deep-seated, subconscious refusal to believe in our own capacity for greatness. It seems most people are far too preoccupied with their own inherent flaws, treating their failures as an immutable state of being rather than a temporary condition. Instead of standing tall and proving that they are capable of something more, they choose to retreat into a cycle of endless prayer, performative humility, and a perpetual sense of indebtedness to some higher power. They simply lack the creative spark required to ascend, because, quite frankly, they possess absolutely no faith in themselves.
What on earth is this? She. They tell me that it serves as a roadmap for life, a guiding principle to live by, yet personally, I have never once had the inclination to label such a thing as humility.
True humility can only be possessed by those who hold themselves in high regard, for self-respect is the essential prerequisite for truly feeling, respecting, and loving everything in one’s orbit—be it our fellow citizens or the raw majesty of the American wilderness. A humble person is someone who actually listens, someone who remains receptive, and someone who possesses the courage to engage in a brutally honest analysis of their own soul. Such an individual is perpetually hungry for new knowledge; yet, with every grain of wisdom acquired, they find themselves gripped by an even deeper thirst for learning, accompanied by that subtle, creeping sense of panic that arises when one becomes acutely aware of just how little they actually know. It is that breathless sensation you feel when you stand paralyzed by the sheer scale of Niagara Falls, or when you are struck by the delicate fragility of a poppy petal or the intricate beauty of a butterfly. It is that visceral, skin-crawling sweetness we experience when we recognize genuine sincerity, honesty, and goodness in another—when we sense the very soul of a person radiating the presence of God through their every action. Conversely, it is that instinctive, sharp resistance we feel when we encounter deceit or falsehood. For the person who is truly humbled before the Magic of Life—who understands how infinitesimal we are beneath the vast expanse of the stars and stands in silent awe before the magnitude of the Divine—there is simply no room to honor what they perceive as evil.
There is such an immense amount of humility inherent in true art. The most profound masterpieces were forged by individuals who understood they were merely vessels—that they had been graced with a gift, a talent they simply channeled from the very depths of their soul and, by extension, from the very heart of the Source.Because of what she is articulating, I never want to lose my capacity for wonder; I refuse to let go of the ability to be fascinated, to fall in love, to be moved, or to feel a deep sense of reverence for something far greater than myself, or even something inexplicable. I want to remain capable of noticing things that are
beautiful and allowing them to matter. I don't want to be indifferent to them, but rather to cherish and protect them if I can, or to pass that essence along through my own being.
In those specific moments, I don't actually feel any sense of humiliation. I am not suppressing my true self at any point during those experiences; instead, I am expanding. In those instances, there is no need to stifle the ego, because it has already been forgotten, rendered utterly irrelevant. It is precisely in that spontaneity that human freedom should reside. Everything truly worthwhile, everything that triggers what she describes as humility, does not require "subjugation" to be understood. It only requires an open mind, a willing spirit, and the preservation of that inner child.
Which is why, for me, the term itself feels misplaced within the context of my own "life journey."
Melissa Stewart6 said:Humility doesn't have to mean groveling or throwing yourself at someone's feet.
It can simply mean surrender—surrendering to someone or something. To surrender means there is no resistance left; there is nothing left to defend.
"Perverse humiliation."
Sure, that might hold water if you are absolutely certain about what "God" or "something higher" actually means, and equally certain about what "self" means.
I suspect your interpretation might be off, because that "higher power" is also a part of the human experience... just as the "lower" parts are.
In other words, you could say all good things come from God if you don't view God as an external entity—some old man in the clouds or an imaginary friend.
The real question is: why is humility viewed as a bad thing? Why is it considered wrong to admit that something exists beyond our own limited selves?
Well... at the end of the day, everyone is entitled to their own judgment of right and wrong. If hollowpuma762 decides you aren't right, he doesn't see much reason to respect your opinion—especially if you aren't willing to respect his.
It is fascinating how rituals in the most prominent traditional spiritual teachings consistently demand a physical demonstration of this "surrender"—the crawling, the kneeling, the prostrating oneself against the ground.
And how humility, which is supposedly not meant to be linked to the concept of humiliation, is, according to the Pope himself, impossible without—well, humiliation.
Forgive my bluntness on such a spiritual topic, but it feels like someone here is trying to sell us snake oil.
"perverse humiliation"
That holds true only if you are entirely certain about what the term "God" or "the higher power" signifies, and just as certain about what constitutes the "self."
I suspect your understanding is flawed, because that "higher" element is also a part of the human experience... much like the "lower" one.
In other words, one could argue that all good originates from God, provided that God isn't treated as some external entity—an old man in the clouds or an imaginary friend.
Humility reveals that everything good within us, whether in terms of our nature or our grace, belongs to God, for "in Him we live and move and have our being." Everything grand and virtuous within us stems from the Lord; our misery and weakness, conversely, belong to us. Before God, we feel like "debtors with nothing to pay back.
(...)Link.Our misery and weakness,
on the contrary, are ours alone. What a pathetic way to perceive oneself—as a human being.
Quote:
The real question is why humility is considered bad, why it is wrong to admit that something exists beyond ourselves? | |
For something to qualify as a "real question," one must first avoid using a straw man argument. I never stated that it is wrong to acknowledge that something exists beyond us. Nor do I believe that this is achieved...
with humility.
Well... at the end of the day, every individual possesses the capacity to assess and judge right from wrong for themselves. If Omen decides you’re off base, there isn't some inherent obligation for him to respect your perspective—especially when you aren't showing him any respect in return.
Nobody on this thread needs a defense attorney.
Melissa Stewart6 said:On one hand, there’s nothing wrong with having a sense of pride. You could say it's actually a good thing.
Putting yourself above everything else is a mistake. At least, that’s just my take on things.
And there we go again—what was the phrase? Learning from everyone? I have to wonder, though... is there actually anything to be learned from hollowpuma762, or is that just wishful thinking?
Is there really any value in learning exclusively from people who already agree with you?
Even if you choose to ignore them, those hollowpuma762 types and their opinions aren't going anywhere.
You don't have to abandon your convictions just to extract knowledge from someone else. You can't force learning upon yourself if you don't see the merit in it.
But Omen and his opinions still exist, whether they are ignored or not.
My point wasn't about the opinions themselves, but rather the manner in which communication occurs. I have no intention of dwelling on this further.
Betty Patel172 said:Everyone is entitled to their perspective, but this specific attitude toward humility is reminiscent of how settlers acted during the conquest of the USA, the displacement of Native Americans, and the era of slavery, which effectively subjugated entire populations. Even today, we remain enslaved to various metals and non-metals. 🙂
It is precisely the spiritual tradition that birthed those very settlers—those who have spent millennia exploiting lands and people—that harbors this specific, almost masochistic interpretation of humility as a virtue. It's worth asking why.
