Within the past couple of weeks, I have witnessed two radically contrasting stories unfold before me—one marked by the destructive spirit of self-righteousness, and the other by the generative spirit of humility. The first story is a cautionary tale, the second a quiet testimony to the healing nature of love. And as I have reflected on these situations, it has formed in me a deeper awareness about the kind of presence I want to bring into my own relationships and community.
It’s not the first time in my life that I have witnessed how a spirit of self-justification and anger can unravel a life’s reputation, making relationships brittle and breaking the kind of trust that takes years to build. I have often been left to wonder what motivates this kind of inevitably destructive behavior. Perhaps the root is best identified by Daniel Kahneman, a psychologist best known for his work on the psychology of judgment and decision-making. Kahneman found that the human brain is actually wired for cognitive biases, particularly the tendency toward self-justification. When confronted with personal failure or criticism, the brain (some call this the ego defense mechanism) scrambles to defend itself, often through anger, deflection, or blame. This psychological reflex, though natural, can have devastating consequences for a person, and for those around them. If this mechanism is left unchecked or lacks maturity, it almost always leads to isolation, alienation, and ultimately, the erosion of meaningful relationships.
In the spiritual traditions, the dangers of an unchecked ego are commonly highlighted. The Buddhist concept of ‘dukkha’—often translated as suffering or dissatisfaction—teaches that clinging to our own self-image leads directly to suffering. Similarly, Christian scripture warns that “pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall” (Proverbs 16:18). Perhaps you have seen this happen in real life —as someone reacts to an offense, anger consumes them…it then leads to relational alienation and either deep inner regret or relationship-destructing rage.
On the other hand, I witnessed in the past week a powerful story of a quiet, transformative, generative spirit of humility and joy. I saw someone embrace deep vulnerability, choosing the health of a relationship over their own need to be right or in charge. They chose gratitude over resentment, humility over anger. And furthermore…their humility did not diminish them—it actually enlarged them. Not only was the story inspiring to witness, but the one choosing to live in humility reports feeling more alive, more their true-self, and more relationally connected. By choosing to carefully respond with humility and grace rather than react, to participate rather than demand, they fostered an relational environment where loving action was able to flourish and increased their own sense of self-agency.
The spiritual traditions know this reality. In the Benedictine practices, humility is not weakness but a posture of openness—an acknowledgment that we do not hold all the answers and that growth and maturity is found by listening, learning, and loving. Jesus himself embodied this when he washed the feet of his disciples, showing that real authority and power is rooted in service, not dominance and demands.
Yup…it remains evident in life that when we choose a spirit of humility, we make space for others, and in doing so, we find something far richer in ourselves than what the ego’s defense mechanisms could ever provide: genuine, life-giving belonging and connection. And when it comes to understanding why some still choose the destructive path, I often think of the poet Rainer Maria Rilke’s words: “Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help.”
Witnessing these contrasting stories has reinforced for me a fundamental reality: everyday we are shaping our own relational-experience, either by reinforcing relational walls or by building relational bridges. Ego builds walls —humility builds bridges. Anger isolates — love unites. The choice is ever before us, moment by moment.
I was reminded again today of the simple but powerful invitation from St. Francis of Assisi: “Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith.” So today, in whatever circumstance you find around you, I invite you to lean into the pathways of humility and love, trusting that the quality of relationship we nurture with others will become the foundation for something good tomorrow in our relationships, and in us.
Shane Ash 