11/11/2025
I have been thinking a lot about humility lately. Humility comes from the Latin word humilis, meaning "low," "lowly," or "from the earth". This connects to humus, the Latin word for "earth" or "soil," and suggests a meaning of being "grounded" and having a modest view of one's own importance. I like that the word humility has a connection to the word earth. This makes sense given that we will all one day return to the earth, to become soil.
One can be humble, and one can sometimes be humbled by life. Sometimes it brings peace, in the way it can free you from the attachment to your creations. Sometimes it can be a little painful, in the way it can make you feel irrelevant or invisible.
I remember the first time I felt humility. I was in my 20’s, working as a preschool teacher. I loved this work with all my heart. Spending my days with children aged 2-5 as they learned how to navigate learning and community. Each day felt so meaningful for myself and the children, and yet I knew I would never get to see or experience the impact, if any, of this important teacher/student relationship. Most likely, I imagined, I would not even be remembered for the work and care I provided. The only gift was the momentary one that came with spending my days with these delightful beings.
I have been feeling this same sense over the past few months as my kids all grow up and leave home. Twenty plus years of identifying as a parent. Being on-call 24/7, only suddenly to be laid-off from my favourite job of all. My kids, if they all do well, will have a whole lifetime ahead exploring, learning, interacting with people - a life I will only get glimpses of. Not that I will cease to be a parent, but that role of being a parent of children will be gone. Families that I meet won’t even know that I once stood where they are now.
I was reflecting on all this last week as my kids and I visited Montreal together. One night I had some time to myself. My kids were out exploring the city together. I decided I would go visit a colleague who was providing ear acupuncture to folks in a nearby city park with some friends of theirs. Under a big white tent ten chairs were placed in a small circle, people sat, quietly meditating, tiny needles protruding from their ears.
A few years prior to this visit that same colleague had asked me to come to Montreal to teach about community acupuncture. At that time the people in charge of regulating acupuncture in Quebec were opposed to the idea, they believed it would be somehow unsafe or inappropriate to offer acupuncture within a group setting. Thanks to my teaching, and the work of some very passionate Quebec comrades, we were able to convince those people that the world of acupuncture would not fall apart if people were given treatment in a room together. Since then several community clinics have sprung up in Montreal and soon hopefully more will open throughout the province.
Peering into the small white tent, my friend standing next to me, it dawned on me that this simple, yet important offering, was happening in part because of our combined efforts. Together we had helped to bring about the arrival of community acupuncture in the province of Quebec. I was taking all this in when my friend turned to me and suggested I have a seat. So when a chair became available I sat down and waited for my turn. A young partitioner, not knowing who I was, came up to me and asked if I had ever had acupuncture before. I said simply, “yes, many times.” I signed a consent form, and after having a brief chat to see if I had any questions, they began placing the tiny needles into my ears.
As I sat there looking around at the other folks receiving treatment I felt very humbled. To this young person I was just an elder sitting in a circle of others receiving an acupuncture treatment. Only I knew that 25 years ago I had been that same young person eagerly poking people’s ears as I first began to dream about acupuncture in community. Knowing that I had played some role in this moment was just for me to hold. After the treatment I said goodnight to my friends and walked off into the crowd of people to catch the Metro home. I was just another face in the crowd.
This experience caused me to reflect on why we do the things we do. If it is for fame or glory, I can tell you right now, that this fame and glory will fade and disappear, no matter how great the act, or how far our social networks reach. If that is true then perhaps the best approach to life is to give from the heart, without attachment. To create, offer, and serve, without any expectation of reward. To be like the earth. So I want to encourage you, as you go about your day, to look into the eyes of the people you pass by, and reflect that each one of them has a whole life of unique expression, experiences, and gifts they bring.
Be curious. Be kind. Be connected.
