Walking Humbly as God
by Barbara Reid
Last week was full of what can kindly be called learning opportunities. Because I am, by nature, an emotional being, I sometimes call my learning opportunities by other names: frustrations, annoyances, humiliations, and pains in the neck!
I'm most comfortable when I feel clear and confident of what I'm doing. I like to think of myself as intelligent and coordinated. Sometimes the universe has other plans for me. As ascended master Djwhal Khul has said, "If the aim of your religion is certainty, it's time to find another religion."
The learning process, my guides tell me, is not one of clear, confident progress. It is a matter of moving into the unknown, in whatever form that happens. Some people, at some times, go forward into that void in complete trust, knowing they are guided and supported by the highest energy. On occasion I count myself among these. More often, it takes me a while before I perceive the gifts within the mysterious challenges.
This was the week I took a computer course. Being about as far from a technological whiz as anyone on the planet, I had been somewhat tense about the class. As it turned out, it was completely self-paced, which was just right for me. But, accustomed to a different kind of "mouse," I made errors every day, requiring frequent help from the on-site consultant to return to the correct screen.
After the first day, he located me at the computer closest to his own workstation, to save steps! One day in particular, there was a point where the tutorial program just seemed to move too fast for me, and I had to replay it repeatedly to understand the lesson. I felt quite slow-witted. This started a whisper of self-criticism that I barely noticed. Eventually I did master the material, and in the end I was pleased that I had persisted.
That same day, I had an appointment to meet with a dear friend whom I only see once a year. Needless to say, this was important to me. After computer class, I headed out to meet her. The car wouldn't start. I was mystified and just beginning to be angry (at something outside myself) when I realized I'd left the car lights on more than two hours earlier.
All the old, critical self-talk that I thought I'd risen above came clattering into my mind like so many small children beating on a tin pot with wooden spoons. The pot was my heart, which felt the blows and began feeling somewhat dented. I barely managed to stop short of allowing the volley of internal insults to expand to my lack of computer abilities, relationship skills, and so forth.
I sensed that my emotional upset was out of proportion to the simple event. This is usually the sign of a learning opportunity, but I was not open to that possibility. I found it humiliating to call those who might help me and repeat my story over and over.
Out of this self-blame grew the unconscious willingness to judge someone else. Why turn the venom inward when I can share it with others? The tow truck driver took twice as long getting there as he had estimated, and when he pulled into the parking lot, I was ready to decide he wasn't very professional. Appearances usually matter little to me, but in my state at the time, his age and clothing just didn't match what I had in mind, and I was beginning to feel seriously disgruntled.
Its funny how reality sometimes just won't let us hold onto our petty mindsets. This man swiftly jump-started my car for a very reasonable price. Then he cheerfully stood in the cold wind and filled out a complete receipt (in triplicate), making a point to remind me to check with my insurance company and find out if towing was covered. By the time we left, waving to one another, again I had the sense I was being offered a lesson. I couldn't quite grasp what it might be.
When I arrived to pick up my friend, I still hadn't mastered my self-reproach. In response to my apologies for lateness, my friend kindly assured me that it was totally unimportant. This helped me begin to put things into perspective, but I wasn't completely convinced yet that I was really an okay person, so I tried to do everything "right." Don't ever let anyone tell you the universe doesn't have a sense of humor! In getting something out of the car, I hit my forehead on the car-top rack, striking it so hard that the whole car rang like a gong.
This time, all I could do was laugh, as the goose egg rose on my head and the tears of pain rolled down my cheeks. No matter how much I want to be in control of things, I'm not! There must be something here for me to look at!
My teacher, ascended master Djwhal Khul, has explained that there are many ways to learn about humility. Humiliation is one. Humiliation is an experience of the small, earthbound self. It involves being concerned with how one appears to others. To feel humiliated is to be forced out of one's little, petty pride. Humiliation can be very useful in that way, but it is only the beginning of humility, for in humiliation, we generally feel diminished, small, and in some way inferior. In true humility, we realize we are only learners, and that we still have a lot to learn, but also — just as importantly — that we are of God. As such, by our nature we are also very large. We have unlimited capacity for knowing and loving, and we can access those powers instantaneously.
I was beginning to catch on that the message of these days involved humility. The crowning glory of the week was a long, intense conversation with my beloved soulmate. He made some requests and suggestions. I felt he was asking me to change in ways that were too difficult for me. My immediate reactions were to feel overwhelmed, frightened, and thus to display defensiveness. This, of course, stirred up mirror images in him, and we moved into that no-growth land of "It's your fault" or "You don't really care about me." To our credit, we came back to the conversation again and again until we both were able to remember the depth of our love for each other. For me, the key to that remembering was humility.
Here's how I see it now. My partner says, "I need change." Immediately, I throw up protective walls in response to a perceived threat. "He must be accusing me of doing wrong for all these past years" or "Here it comes — he's going to ask too much of me." The fear I feel is real. It's no good pretending I don't have it. But from behind my walls, I can barely hear what he's really saying. The radio of my own mind's fearful chatter is too loud. "How could he think I'm (lazy, callous, stingy…)? What does he want from me? Isn't it obvious I've been trying my best?
It seems that the antidote for this unhelpful pattern is humility. Sometimes, after a while, I get to the point where I admit to myself, "All he said was that he needs change. That doesn't mean he's accusing me of anything or demanding the impossible. I don't know what he's thinking, and the only way to find out is to drop my agenda and listen."
With this thought, I'm admitting I don't know much, but that, as a God-being, I have the capability to know and to love. Once in this space, I find myself mirroring back his words, asking, "Is that what you meant?" and following up with further questions. All of a sudden, instead of protecting my honor with a shield of outrage, I'm curious. I'm a researcher, an interviewer trying to get clean data. In return, no longer under attack, he, too, becomes less inflamed. His explanations become more neutral, more focused on his needs than on my mistakes or failings.
With this energetic shift, an atmosphere is created in which I can reveal even more of myself. Instead of reacting from fear, I can talk about the fear itself. "Your request scares me. Here's what I know about that fear." When two people reach that level of self-revelation, the argument tapers off and the understanding begins. This time, it took several talks to work through to that place of safety, but thanks to universal guidance, all week I was gradually led to the humility needed to unlock the door.
At the end of the week, something happened that put all my little tribulations in perspective. An acquaintance called me to request help. She has a life-threatening illness, and it's expected she won't be on this plane much longer. She wondered if I could take care of her two young children from time to time. Gladly, I agreed. We made the arrangements, and I turned from the phone, humbled again. Thank you, universe, for bringing my "opportunities" in the form of a little hurt pride or a bump on the head.
Moving into the unknown, last week, involved figuratively stubbing my toe, scraping my knee, and skinning my elbow before I received the message of humility. Sometimes that's how it goes!
I'm grateful that this time I didn't bloody someone else's nose in the process. That's another whole facet of learning humility: owning my actions and acknowledging the sorrow of having acted unkindly or hurtfully, while recalling that my central core is still divine; feeling compassion and taking action to balance the situation or make reparations, not from the position of a lowly worm, but as my highest self, learning. As it is written in the Old Testament book of Micah, "What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?" It's unlikely we'll do any of the three perfectly, all the time, and that brings us back to walking humbly with God.
For the moment, I'm pretty sure I don't know much, and pretty sure that I am a spark of divine knowing and love. In this frame of mind, the most foolish things I may do are not demeaning, and the most unexpected things others do are not for me to judge. After all, I'm God learning what it's like to be me in this setting. So is every other person and being. Not one of us has ever been our current self before. Naturally, we don't know exactly how it's supposed to go! As the ascended master Kuthumi says, "You came here to experience, and you can't fail at that."
Barbara Reid channels Ascended Master Djwhal Khul. Together they work with spiritual energy, emotion, and thought to help clients release blocks and experience the joy of their God-ness. Understand your soul purpose, meet your guides, and manage the learnings contained in your current experiences. Individuals and couples. Telephone sessions available. Regular group classes; free sample newsletter. (206) 783-4185
