In case anyone’s wondering why the pace of posts has (perhaps thankfully) slowed, I’m back home but feeling even more tired than in the hospital. I’m a bit overwhelmed by how much healing lies ahead, and for the time being my writing has been shelved. What follows is a post written after my prior hospitalization, which was just a couple of weeks ago, though it seems like ages. This piece no longer captures my current feelings about the conversation it describes (so much has happened that the entire episode and essay seem less vital than before), but I still think it has something important to say about world views. Mainly, I’m posting it to keep up the flow. Before long I hope to feel better and start writing again. Thank you, everyone, for your support and patience.

We should always remember that our viewpoint is limited, and that others see the world differently. Of course we all know this superficially, but it remains easy to mistake personal values for eternal truths. Recently a discussion with a close friend forced me to face how enamored I’ve become of my moral system, and how it actually represents mere opinion rather than cosmic imperative.

In my writing I frequently emphasize unity as a basic feature of creation, and humility as a sign of maturity. It seems self-evident to me that all beings are so closely linked as to be essentially unitary. It also seems obvious that the wisest response to this reality is to treat other human (and animal) lives as equal in value to my own.

How easy it has been for me to avoid recognizing this as a minority opinion. Our Western culture runs on the engine of competition, which is powered by the twin assumptions that some beings are more valuable than others, and that gifted and driven (i.e., better) people deserve whatever they can grab of the earth’s resources. In the world at large, little more than lip service is given to the fact that a person who is superior at competing can be inferior in many other ways. Policy gets determined by neo-Darwinian thinking.

Over a year ago my friend and I had a conversation about humility. This man has helped me in many ways vital to my current state of mental and spiritual stability. He advised me on my moods and my meditation. He introduced me to venerable mystical traditions that I’d previously ignored. I look up to him as a mentor and a teacher. And yet I also see areas where my understanding seems to exceed his own. So when the subject of humility arose, I decided to explain what Alcoholics Anonymous and other sources have taught me about its value.

In the time since, I learned the day after leaving the hospital (the first time, back in January), this friend gave my input much consideration. He thought about it from the points of view of traditional spiritual wisdom and modern utilitarian ethics. He contemplated whether adopting a more humble stance would help him grow or change him into someone he could never respect. In the end, he completely rejected humility as a trait worth pursuing.

After he told me his conclusion, I tried to reexplain what being humble implies, so that he would understand that it doesn’t rule out self-esteem, or honest valuation of personal gifts, or taking a strong stance. It seems impossible to me that anyone could deeply comprehend this concept and still dismiss it.

But the fact is, what seems impossible, isn’t. My friend’s logic is sound if one accepts modern values. He cited Steve Jobs as a prime example of a person who was anything but humble and arguably achieved greatness as a result. He pointed out that Jesus Christ didn’t hold back from naming himself the only Son of God (if we believe the gospels’ rendering of Christ’s words). If one of the greatest spiritual leaders of all time refused to act humbly, why should anyone?

There are many valid arguments that challenge my friend’s position. Christ apparently believed himself the literal Son of God, so his claiming the title was mere honesty, not arrogance. Plus, the most enduring Christian teachings emphasize collective welfare over personal glory. A doctrine of self-aggrandizement may have worked in past epochs but is disastrous in the current era of shrinking resources and exploding population. I brought many such objections to bear on the debate that waged between us.

Still, a debate is nothing but an exchange of words, and words can never pin down ultimate truth. What’s more, there is no validity to my claim that humility is inherently superior to arrogance. It may offer healing to a wounded world. It may be conducive to social harmony. But it cannot be proven to be a cosmically sanctioned quality. Indeed, there may well be situations where humility undermines genuine human or even spiritual progress.

It’s even worth asking whether my own attempts at replacing my former pridefulness with genuine humility is actually an outgrowth of the low self-esteem that has plagued me forever. Does my humble ethic constitute spiritual sacrifice or self-betrayal?

Well, in my own defense, I don’t think my favoring humility is anything other than a sincere effort to be a decent human being. My gifts are not lost on me, only my former sense of exceptional importance. I know my strengths, and I see my weaknesses. I recognize my common qualities and my unique ones. In the end, I believe seeing myself as equal (neither more nor less valuable) to everyone else is both rational and humane. I believe my former arrogant attitudes were the ones driven by low self-esteem, not my current more tempered ones. But of course, that’s just an opinion.

Given all the thought it has provoked, the whole episode has been a good lesson, though a painful one. Good, because it reminds me that my beliefs must always be held provisionally. Painful, because it reveals a yawning gap between my friend’s worldview and my own. It may be that we can continue to communicate despite this difference, but I believe it will be hard for each of us now that we see how neither of us truly embraces the values of the other.

Friends don’t need to agree on everything, but it helps if they share basic standards. This isn’t the first time I’ve encountered a glaring difference between my perspective and that of a close friend, and I know that true caring can overcome such conflicts. Unfortunately, however, for a relationship to remain balanced and healthy after such a rift, the parties need to approach one another with a modicum of true humility.

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