I’ve been shaken a lot by humility lately. Humility is tragic for the ego. Who wants that? A crushed ego. I definitely don’t. You probably don’t, either. My ego is what protects me from you. It’s a shield of thick metal plates that each represent something different I’ve strived to attain on my own: my education, my position, my spirituality, my masculinity.

Humility asks something of me that I’m just not willing to experience. It calls me to die. We are born, essentially, a blank slate. A Tabula Rasa. But life is all about becoming bigger and better faster and faster, isn’t it? Who out there isn’t trying to better their situation? Even those who consider their lives perfect will fight to keep it there. But dying?

While the perfect scenario of my life is Bestseller, the antithesis is to tie that guy to the bumper of my car and drag him through the desert. What an outlandish premise. To begin life with a picture of our chief desires realized; the “best” version of us, and instead of following the path to riches, fame or even contentment, we kill that man.

The paradigm is tipped on its head. I stop asserting myself through “Brand: Me” and I hold the door open until they forget I’m behind it. If you’re a person of faith, this is called being “Christlike”. It’s an ancient principle. The beautiful thing is, we prove the need for Jesus every time we fail at humility; we support the gift of Jesus every time we don’t.

 I was considering the decades of the last one hundred years. Great things have indeed transpired, but humanity has, for the most part, behaved in excess of unaccountable violence, negligence, opulence, selfishness and entitlement. What if we became less? And what if for years to come, the 2010s were known as “The Decade of Humility”?