Humility happened.

Recently I was talking to a few fellow students training to be Spiritual Directors. We were talking about what we had learned, how we had changed, and what we would take with us from the 2-year program that was ending that week. For me, it has been a 5-year journey. I took 3 years of training to share the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises and then, just as those 3 years ended, I began the 2-year program on how to give Spiritual Direction—or Spiritual Companioning. As I spoke about what I’d learned, I said, “Humility happened.” One of the listeners got a kick from that phrase and I’ve been thinking a lot about it.

When I said, “Humility happened,” I was talking about how I no longer (usually) feel driven to share my thoughts and opinions in conversation. I’ve always been quite opinionated about things and often felt like whoever I was talking to needed to hear my thoughts and opinions, either because I wanted to persuade them or because what was prompted in my mind seemed so interesting and germaine to whatever topic we were on that they would want to hear it, too. I would not have thought I was acting out of pride, but now, looking back, I think it is fair—even though I feel ashamed about it—to say it often was pride. Who was I to judge what others would think was right or interesting? I am trying to be compassionate with myself about it.

Anyway, now, when I feel that compulsion to share, I can much more easily let it go. It is easier to think that it’ll be just fine if the person I’m talking to does not hear my thoughts and opinions. Maybe this change would have happened to me anyhow, but I attribute the change to this 5-year journey of the contemplative life. I learned and practiced listening, for one thing. And I improved in letting go of the outcome, not trying to control what happened, including the conclusions reached at the end of a conversation. One time Nadia Bolz-Weber wrote she was glad “it was up to almighty God, not almighty me.” Good one. “Almighty me.”

While learning about giving Spiritual Direction or Spiritual Companoning, we were constantly reminded that it was our job to provide a “safe space” for our directees, a space where they could safely talk about what was going on in their heart—without judgment. It is not our job to try to change them or anything else—we let God do the work. Almighty God, not almighty me. :) One of the things I learned to do better was hold back on my own responses to whatever someone said. It took practice to figure out a kind of two-track listening skill. I intently listen to all they say, and when a response comes to mind, I try to ask myself whether voicing the thought would help the person I am listening to or if I really want to voice it for some reason of my own.

One fellow student said she imagines a canoe on a river. She puts the thought into that canoe and lets it float down the river where she can retrieve it later. That image helps me a lot. I remember once my brother Dan said that he often looked forward to mindless work because it gave him time to think about things he wanted to discuss and debate later with his closest friend. He farmed on the side and said that even if the job were to move a pile of manure (well, actually, he called it shit), he’d welcome the time he’d need to spend on it.

The image I used for this entry helps me, too. I think of God holding the directee’s heart, and my providing the space for that. The blue hands are mine, too, holding the directee’s heart up to God. This method of listening and holding space has become more of a habit. Now, I find myself using that kind of two-track listening skill in everyday conversations, too. I hope and pray it becomes a strong habit, a way of living and growing in my love for God and my neighbor.

I love debate still. I like exchanging opinions. I am more able to approach the exchange with curiosity and even an attitude of “I might be wrong.” I also still love writing about my thoughts, reactions, and opinions. It’s fun when a kindred spirit shares my interest or delight and tells me their thoughts. I hope that will happen here.

What about you? Have you changed in your approach? What do you think has happened and why?