Humble Me

Do you ever just feel incredibly lowered and humbled by looking at the talent around you?

I'm going to try and simply admire and enjoy it all,
without also demeaning myself.
It's tricky. Because that's what I do automatically. It's my default.

And honestly, it's because I am so thoroughly selfish. I don't just compliment someone. I also have to mention something about myself, degrade myself, loop it back to me.
Me.
Me.
Me.
That's where my heart lies.
"Hey, give me attention!"
That's what it says all day long.
How sick and twisted. . .
trying to put on the appearance of lowering myself. But really, not.

It's probably better to just be plain, honest, and frank about my pride. To hide it. . . yuck.
I've seen so much of my pride lately.
I want humility.

I want to be humble.

And that is one trait, I am especially aware, that I can not make myself have. Somehow, that seems so obvious. I'll never be able to "try to be humble" without immediately becoming not so.

It's something only he can do.


-But back to talents.
First, I have such talented friends.
It's crazy.

I sit in art class, everyone's paintings propped up.
And they're all so different. And I love that. They are each positively beautiful. The different lines, thoughts, styles. The simple, the complex. The twists and turns. They all see differently and you see it on the page.

And seeing them perform,

and speak up front in class, bare their hearts, tell their stories, the pain in their eyes as they relive their darkest moments. They're each themselves. I suppose I'm going off topic, but can I just say,
I love my class.
I'm so thankful for them. 

To go to the art museum, thick strokes and thin, artists showing the world what they see,
to read books so complex, every word puncturing and wielded, imprinting on my mind,
to see my drama teacher perform a monologue,
goose bumps running up my spine as she talks of Mozart and utter joy and raises her head and shouts, "Hallelujah!" The joy of the Lord. To be lifted out of the pit.

My heart overflows as my mind races thinking of it all. . . I don't want to write anymore. Just think.