My computer dictionary defines humility as: modesty, humbleness, meekness, diffidence, unassertiveness; lack of pride, lack of vanity; servility, submissiveness.
Well, maybe humility is not the right word (and I’m open to suggestions), because all those words above seem rather grovelling.
What I want to say is the feeling of humility has come knocking in recent months because certain circumstances have brought me low. Imagine Prince Charming (husband) fitting me with compression stockings every day and several times a day rather than a glass slipper. Picture me, who when I was first married could leap puddles, in the early days after hip surgery, learning to walk again with a walking frame and then crutches.
The hospital stuff is past now but I am still often being humbled by things that I used to do with the thoughtless snap of my fingers. Getting out of bed, getting dressed, I have to think about those things.
I know my hips allow me to bend more than 90 degrees now, but definitely not 180, and what is that no-man’s land in between? Vast and unexplored.
Probably the most humbling moment I experience now is getting down and getting up from the floor. There is no easy groove to slot into, no smooth flow.
Still, I can consider my condition and my situation a blessing because I am improving each day, and so far I have not backslid. I know people who will experience some level of pain for the rest of their lives or have a disability which no intervention will improve, yet they accept their lot. They are the real practitioners of humility.
Knowing me I will probably be back to my cocky self in no time.