In The Event of My Humility

humility (hyū-mĭl'ĭ-tē) n (14c): the quality or state of being humble

My father often told me that I must have one hardest damned heads on the face of the Earth. As big and lumpy as the Gumbo cranium is (as my blessed mother can attest), you would think it was made out of solid bone or wood. Density is a drawback when one is expected to absorb “life lessons”, or even just common sense lessons. Like not driving a motorcycle into a woodpile or trying to cover up beer breath with a heapin’ helping of mustard straight up (both true). As George Carlin summed it up, “Don’t get run over by a bus! Some people need practical advice.”

Up to about five years ago, I strongly believed in two major fallacies: that I was in control of my reality, and that trusting humanity was a zero-sum game because people always let you down. “People make you mean” I once heard someone say, and I certainly felt that way. All I had to do was turn on the news to be supported in my smugness. However, even the most bloody-minded, stubborn smart aleck EVENTUALLY learns something in the course of a lifetime. Sometimes it just takes an awful long time for those lessons to sink in, to become internalized. In my case, the internalization often manifests itself in the form of a revelation. The flash goes off, the bell goes DING! that cosmic finger plucks me on the back of the head bone. No wonder my head feels so lumpy!

The cosmic finger plucked me hard in the aftermath of the premature birth and deaths of my first two kids back in 2003. The amazing amount of support and empathy and sheer kindnesses done for my wife and I in the NICU, at home, and at work, truly staggered me. People were just so nice and caring and they really kept me going when I thought I was going to collapse under the weight of stress and grief. I had to revise my jaundiced opinion of humanity in general. This series of events nearly destroyed the shell I had built around my heart.

The cosmic finger also works in less dramatic ways. Less dramatic, no less important. Call it a ‘brush of the fingertip’, an elbow tap to the ribcage, a reminder to open up and let good people in. I received such a brush after yesterday’s post. The comments I received were truly amazing and heartwarming. A cynic like me didn’t stand a chance. What few shards left around my heart were effectively swept away. Good vibes like that deserve to be shared, so if you haven’t already visited with these fine folks, drop some comment luv on them:

Mama Dawg at Two Dogs Running
Rebekah at Waffles, Waffles All Day Long
Krystal at Mommy’s Escape 6.0
Heather Kathleen at a mouthy irish woman? ridiculous!
Goodfather at GoodFatherBlog.com
ChurchPunkMom at Embellished Truth and Polite Fiction
Comedy Goddess at You have to be a Comedy Goddess to endure
IB at Idiot’s Stew
Charmaine at Middle Aged Dating
Vodka Mom at I Need A Martini Mom
Ryan at Pacing The Panic Room
Captain Dumbass at Us and Them
Henry the Dog at Henry The Dog Diaries
cIII at The Goat and Tater
Jen at Sprite’s Keeper
Rick at Organized Doodles
SSP at Smarty Pants Rants
Ashley at Beck and Hunt
Shonda at The Cowboy Chronicles

There are none so blind as them that would not see. Thank you, thank you, for helping me see.