Letter To Myself: It’s More Important To Believe You’re Nothing, Than Believe You’re Everything
Letter 2: Humility.
Hey, me.
You are nothing.
Okay?
It doesn’t matter how great you think or feel you are.
Remember, you are nothing.
Nothing but a writer.
Not a great writer.
Not an exceptional writer.
Not an innovative one either.
Nor a unique one at that; you’re just another fish in a very big sea.
Nothing special.
Just a writer.
Plain and simple.
Nothing more or less.
You’ve still got a long way to go.
It’s nowhere near enough effort yet.
You haven’t put nearly enough heart into it.
Why?
Because you think you’re special.
And we both know it.
I think I’m great.
I think I’m an incredible communicator.
I don’t think anyone can write like me.
Why?
Because it’s me.
They don’t see it how I do.
And even if they did, they can’t or don’t paint it like I do.
I find confidence in that belief.
I’m special.
Moreover, writing has always been my thing.
It’s always been something people have told me I’m good at.
I’m talented.
It’s thoughts or beliefs like the above, that must be managed.
Here’s why:
The right identity requires humility
I believe that without humility, you will fail.
And the best way to analyse the above is through the lens of identity alongside the golden mean.
These are the parameters for my analysis:
The golden mean:
In short, the ‘golden mean’ proposed by Aristotle refers to a position somewhere in the middle of two extremes.
The two extremes are deficiency and excess.
According to Aristotle, excellence is found somewhere in-between both extremes.
Identity:
As proposed by James Clear, let’s interpret the outcome of your identity as if there was an ‘internal election’.
Every time you act in a way that favours an identity, one vote is cast.
In essence, identity is formulated by the accumulation of corresponding actions/choices.
The identity with the most votes determines your inner voice.
The test subject:
Me.
We’ve just read who I believe I am, let’s get to grips with the effects.
Let’s assume that my identity is completely absent of humility.
As I wrote, I believe I’m talented, special, unique and irreplaceable — God’s gift to writing, no?
In terms of Aristotle’s scale I’m definitely within the extreme of excess.
My identity is too positive for my own good.
But, why?
Isn’t it good to be confident and accomplished?
Especially since, you cannot have an identity without the corresponding actions to reinforce your belief.
Therefore I deserve to be that confident, no?
It’s my right?
Wrong.
At least, partially.
To have the identity I previously described, I must’ve built it by slowly casting votes through action.
So yes, it is a product of my effort, talent and luck.
However, my intention was never to be great — it was to give.
That’s the reason I started to write.
That’s the reason I continued to write.
That’s the reason I still write and will write.
Anything that comes along with it, is simply a by-product of following my purpose.
And if nothing comes with it, that is simply the reality of following my purpose.
The moment your identity compromises your purpose, it is a burden, not a blessing.
The premise of Aristotle’s theory is that excellence lies somewhere in the middle of both extremes.
Which means that, whilst operating at either extreme — you cannot be excellent.
See the problem?
A mountain of dedication, consistency, hard work and excellence grants you into the identity of someone excellent at what they do.
But this alone means you’re operating in the realm of excess.
Without a counterbalance, you will always fall short of excellency.
The poison in the realm of excess
Let’s analyse it with the original parameters:
An identity is no different from a political party, competing for a portion of control.
Specifically, for control of your inner voice.
And everything they enact, starts out as a proposition and ends up binding.
It’s no different for your mind.
As Mahatma Gandhi said:
“Your beliefs become your thoughts,
Your thoughts become your words,
Your words become your actions,
Your actions become your habits,
Your habits become your values,
Your values become your destiny.”
But what happens if there’s no competition for control?
What happens if there’s a complete landslide?
The obvious positives are:
- Stability.
- Unity.
- A stronger sense of identity.
However, the negatives are critical:
- Lack of accountability.
- Complacency.
- Decreased incentive to learn or improve.
- Decrease in innovation.
- Decrease in responsiveness to change.
- Resistance / ignorance of different perspectives.
Allow me to show you these negatives in action.
Remember, the identities are competing for control of your inner voice.
If I had no humility, and I was undeniably accomplished it would sound something like this:
- The Voice of a lack of Accountability
“If I think I’m so perfect and talented, why would I care about accountability?
What is it to me?
Furthermore, who should I be held accountable to?
It can’t be those who are recipients of my efforts, are they ungrateful?
I’m blessing them with the fruits of my innovation.
So if not them, then who?
Who could possibly be qualified to correct me?”
- The Voice of Complacency + Decreased incentive to learn/improve + Decrease in innovation:
“I’m the best.
What more is there for me to do?
It doesn’t matter if I take a day off, or I choose to rest.
It’s not like you can find what I give anywhere else.
Why do would I need to improve or innovate?
For what?
I’ve done more than enough already.
The proof’s in the pudding, my work is excellent.”
- The Voice of a Decrease in responsiveness to change + Ignorance of different perspectives
“So what if there are some new methods now?
Are you suggesting that I should change?
What for?
But if isn’t broken, why fix it?
And even if I could get better, would that even be fair for everyone else?
I’m not so cold-hearted that I’d trample all over the stragglers.
Change is for those who can’t match up in talent.”
Obnoxious, right?
That is the voice of excess.
Albeit, a slightly extreme example — the thought process was not so far-fetched that it was unimaginable.
It’s highly likely that you’ve encountered someone with an identical or similar mindset.
That’s egotism.
The purest form of self-interest.
Your efforts become about you, not your purpose.
More accurately, it becomes about feeding your identity, instead of building your identity.
And there is a stark difference.
Feeding your identity
Feeding your identity feels amazing.
It might start out with hard work and purposeful effort.
But when left unregulated, it quickly becomes about finding ways to enhance the “excellent” identity you’ve created.
Simply because it’s more satisfying to live in a fantasy.
Especially when that fantasy is built on top of real effort.
And by fantasy, I’m referring to the negatives aforementioned above.
Lack of accountability, complacency etc.
It’s significantly easier to consider these drawbacks negligible when you’ve already accomplished a lot through effort.
However, reality says otherwise.
Those who are at either extreme, are more susceptible to fantasy.
Because their inner voice tells them they’ve done enough — not that there is more to do.
That’s why you need a counterbalance.
The deeper into the extreme of ‘excess’ you operate, the farther from excellence you become.
Building an identity
Building an identity is different, because it isn’t rooted in ‘I’ it’s rooted in purpose.
“To and for.”
Whatever you need to reach your purpose, that is what must be done.
You’re building.
Not feeding.
If it isn’t fit for purpose.
It must go.
It requires self-awareness and discernment.
There is nothing fantastical about that.
When you are in the extreme of excess, humility drags you back into the ‘golden mean.’
Because you understand the consequences of arrogance.
You understand that in order to fulfil your purpose you need the things the identity-feeder abandons in arrogance.
You have to be held accountable.
You have to be innovative, and learn.
You cannot be complacent.
You have to be responsive to change.
You have to be willing to appreciate differences in perspective.
Why?
Because excellence is more important than your satisfaction.
Even if you have to constantly lower yourself to achieve further growth, it must happen.
You must remain within the golden mean.
To stay excellent.
Not for your sake, but for the sake of others.
That’s why I must remind myself I’m nothing.
Nothing but a writer.
To stay humble.
Someone who is arrogant will never go above and beyond.
They will never seek counsel from those who they deem ‘inexperienced.’
They will never stoop below their pedestal.
They will never apologise, sacrifice or give without return.
And that is not the voice of purpose.
Remember,
The moment your identity compromises your purpose, it is a burden not a blessing.
Remain humble.
LM
