Tool # 6: The Combination Lock of Humility

Written by Lindsey
October 15, 2024

Hell is not other people, as Sartre said. Hell is defensive people. People who are so afraid of being wrong, or of looking bad, or of getting in trouble that they attack, blame, or get passive agressive. Talking with people who will not accept responsibility for their words and actions is the most rotten thing in the world.

Strike that. That’s not quite it. Hell is not people at all, not even defensive people.

Let me try that again.

Ahem…

Hell is myself when I am stuck behind my own defences.

Hell is myself when I am stuck behind my own defences.

If Earthly hell is our own defensiveness. Then, of course, being arrogant and treating others like your words and actions are their fault, is a way to lock yourself in misery.

Ergo: The Combination Lock of Humility. If you know how to pop that lock, you won’t be trapped with your worst attributes. You’ll own your stuff (but not the stuff of others). You’ll work with others to solve problems. And, for the most part, you’ll be happy.

Here’s the combination for The Combination Lock of Humility:

  1.  Accept
  2. Reflect
  3. Own

When someone points out you have screwed up: Accept the feedback; Reflect back how it has impacted others; and Own the consequences – fully. And unlike your wi-fi password, this combination should be easy to remember because there’s no auto-fill for not sucking.

Accept. Reflect. Own.

Accept. Reflect. Own.

Accept. Reflect. Own

What is the value of Humility? Won’t it just mean people attack me more? Well, no, Humility means freedom from defensiveness, arrogance, hatred, and ignorance. Getting the combination wrong, and not accepting, reflecting, and owning your stuff, means you’re trapped, as if in a high school boys locker, with the smelly gym socks of your anger, the candy wrappers of your pettiness, and the axe body spray of your defensiveness.

Humility is open spaces and fresh air. Or, at least scent-free hallways and decent cafeteria food.

Humility and Leadership

I’ve become the coach of not one, but two basket ball teams and, it’s what you might call a Ted Lasso Situation. (Only no one has called me any names, so far.) Like Coach Lasso I’m not an expert in the sport I coach. In fact, it could safely be said that any number of parents and kids know more than I do. However, I always show up, I generally try my best, and because of this I do help the boys hone their skills.

Having said that, I care for the kids’ emotions and psychological well being as much as I care about their physical health and technical growth. I want the kids to know that they matter, and that people around them see and appreciate their contributions. Beyond that, I want to be one more adult teaching them how to see the contributions of others. We often reflect on what we saw someone else do – even on the other team – that we thought was cool. Heck, it’s not just with the kids. I would love it if the parents, referees, time keepers and other coaches all recognized each other’s contributions. After all, it takes a village..

It’s not just with the kids. I would love it if the parents, referees, time keepers and other coaches all recognized each other’s contributions. 

The same goes for less fun stuff. If a kid is rude to another kid or if a kid doesn’t show up ready to play, they have to sit out.  Because I’d be selling the team out if I didn’t hold us all to that standard, if I didn’t treat them like people capable of being good teammates. And because that standard is set and we are all held to it, we don’t have any problems, or if we do, they clear up quickly. After all, all boats rise with the tide.

Same goes with other coaches or refs. I don’t have to do it often, I only coach in pretty laid-back leagues, but I do address hostility or bad calls when I think I can be helpful. (And, if I myself am feeling cheesed, I don’t say anything.) I often address adult behaviour by “killing with kindness”. I try not to pick fights, but I do make sure that if another coach has been hostile or if a ref consistently made the wrong call, that I address it with them after the game. I always do this in a “Can you help me understand something? I thought that X was the case. Is that youre understanding, too?”

If we carry ourselves well, and hold others to a reasonable standard, we tend to solve our problems, and create well functioning teams. It’s way more fun to be a part of a well functioning team than a poorly functioning one. And, clearly, when people in leadership positions take responsibility for their words and actions, it makes it easier for others to do so, too.

Blame presses heaviest on those being led.

All boats rise with the tide.

Yesterday my friend and coaching partner for the club team pulled me aside

CJ: “Coach Lindsey, can I have your ear?”

Me: “You can have both of them.”

CJ: (rolling eyes): “A couple of players let me know that, last game, when you turned around and yelled at the wall, you thought you were mad with them.”

Me: “Ah, not my finest moment. It’s never good when coach Lindsey acts like a butt head.”

CJ: “I know it was the calls that weren’t getting made.”

Me: “Yeah. They were driving me crazy. Won’t happen again.”

….

When the boys are done their drill, the coaches call them over.

Me: “Hey. CJ just let me know that when I got cheesed last game, some of you felt like i was mad at you. I’m sorry for that. The three in the key wasn’t getting called. And (a player on our team) kept getting knocked around, and it was getting to me. I’m really sorry. I will do my best to stay polite and focused.”

That’s pretty much how it went. (And, yes, I do actually use the word “cheesed” in day to day conversations.) My wanting-to-be-a-good-guy-ness (and also my fear of getting a technical foul for mouthing off the ref) was why I turned towards the wall in the first place. A kid had gotten knocked down for like the eighth time, and I had enough sense not to yell at the ref or the players involved. Yelling at the wall wasn’t much better, but, well, I suppose that’s why I’m spending my Saturday morning writing about Humility.

There really are so many chances for me to turn that dial on the Combination Lock of Humility.

Anyhow, you’ll notice that the hero of the story is not me. Far from it. The heroes are: a) the kids who told CJ that I had hurt their feelings, and b) CJ for kindly telling me what was up. Now, that doesn’t make me the villain – there’s no blame here, just responsibility.*

All I had to do, and it wasn’t all that hard, was to open The Combination Lock of Humility

Without even thinking about it, I…

  1. Accepted the feedback. – I heard what she said and responded without being defensive at all. I was not afraid of being criticized, but, rather, hoping to learn from the interaction. This was all made so much more easy to do by the fact that I know CJ would do the same if she screwed up.
  2. Reflected how my words and actions had impacted others. – I showed CJ – and later the team – that I understood that my anger had impacted them, and how. This part is very important, because this is where Empathy comes in. They need to know that they matter and that what matters to each of them, matters also to me. The message this sends is, “I will reflect you back to you, not some fake, fun-house mirror version of you, but you as you are and deserve to be seen.”
  3. Owned the consequences for my actions. – Owning one’s words and actions is especially important in positions of leadership. We must lead by example. And when we own our stuff and grow, we earn the right to lead.

Now, everyone made it easy for me to own my stuff in this case. The parents all heard my little speech, and none of them piled on me afterwards. Everyone just accepted my apology. In the future I’ll post about what to do in more hostile situations.

How about you? I wonder how you’ve unlocked The Combination Lock of Humility in last week or so? I’m sure you have. Maybe not if someone was really blaming you, but I bet that you have accepted, reflected, and owned your stuff a few times in recent history. And I bet that made it easier for others to talk with you and for you to make things ok. Hopefully it doesn’t make you blush too much to think on that a little. But even if it is a little embarrassing, please do think about times you have been Humble in the face of criticism. It’s certainly something to nurture. And it’s always fun to prove Sartre wrong. Hell is not other people. Hell is being so afraid of looking bad or getting in trouble, that we forget that all we can do is care for our little corner and to be mindful of our thoughts, words, and actions.

The Paradox of Humility

If at the end of the day you feel a little bit of pride because you have acted with Humility, well that’s just one of the great paradoxes of being a person, isn’t it? It’s ok and perhaps even necessary to feel good for facing hard things, even if we don’t like the hard things, themselves.

 

* And, for those of you who think blame is a good thing, that it is the same as pointing out someone’s responsibility, you should re-think that. In fact blame is the twisted, manipulated, synthetic form of responsibility. You know how you can make cyanid out of apple seeds if you mash up enough of them? Blame, like cyanid, is a corruption of something nourishing. Responsibility, however, is the seed itself: it grows and bears fruit.