Kids put me in my place. Having my own kids has made me humble. Kids have a way of doing that. It’s partly their brilliance – kids really do make more brain cells than they need. It’s partly their impulsiveness – kids are forever unpredictable. And it’s partly their honesty – kids have told me I’m old, I’m fat, and that I don’t understand. Sometimes they’ve said it nicely and sometimes, well, not so much. Nice or not, they’re not wrong. Especially when they tell me I don’t understand. Trying to understand – really understand – anyone else, especially a kid, is really hard.
The bright side of humility is, when intentionally practiced, it opens us up; helps us accept that we’re not all that all knowing or all that all wise. Humility makes us teachable. And approachable. Humility gives us a place to relax. When we acknowledge we can be our truer fallible selves, we can simply melt into the moment without the need to impress ourselves or others. Kids simply aren’t that easy to impress.
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