I have recently had a shortage of words to say, mostly because I've gone inside myself in the little free time I now have ...
I've been thinking more than saying, contemplating more than writing.
What I've been thinking about is the nature of humility.
Taking this week's election as an example, it seems that humility is often a lesson earned through some sort of pride-intense behavior. Hubris, the Greek word for tragic pride, usually affords a stinging rebuke in humility.
Not to be confused with shame, there is nothing wrong with being humble. Acknowledging the world acts upon its own agenda, not one's own. That existence does not revolve around you, and your own aims and ego.
And assisting, supporting can be a valid, substantive effort. For a former prima donna, that's been a tough one.
Another thing I'm learning, however, is in how little regard prima donnas are held.
You may believe you are a great artiste, God's gift to commerce, a veritable genius ... but, often, eyes roll behind your back and there's a certain dread associated with your appearance and demands.
See, as a former prima donna, I never knew that people really don't like it when one person sucks up all the oxygen in the room.
I know that now.