It's a toss up between the economic downturn of the 2000's, moving my mother out of her home to live with us, and events around her death. Sometimes it is really difficult to get up and keep moving forward, but there is no other direction.

I guess I felt humbled a few days ago when talking to an old friend. Her husband passed away recently after a brief illness and surgery. He was fairly well known and dearly loved in the community and she is devastated. She told me of some setbacks she has had with things going wrong in their home....water leaks and trying to get things repaired, just so poorly timed for her right now. I know she must be overwhelmed and it made me realize how trivial some of my little things are compared to what she has been through.

My life has been humbling since my earliest memories as a child - too much stuff to go into detail. I didn’t live a charmed life by any sense of the imagination though I wouldn’t change a thing. I’m a better, and humble, person by living through all of it.

My sister passed 9 years ago. I've tried to help her 2 girls, 19 and 25 at the time. I'm humbled by those parents who manage to give advice without making their kids mad. I know this sounds like a small issue, but I've made so many mistakes. Usually by not saying anything for fear of distancing them.

I have had some major challenges, I think, but the most humbling experience of all was the ten year battle that my DS1 had with catastrophic asthma, from age 7 to 17, when the severity and frequency of his attacks finally began to decrease. For those ten years our family life pretty much revolved around keeping him breathing and managing our finances in the face of endless medical bills - not all covered by insurance - so that we would not go under. I quickly learned to be hyper-flexible, as at any moment my plans could be cancelled, from dinner with friends (not so bad when you have to call and cancel your own visit, more frustrating when you have to call people and tell them that they can't come over for a long-planned dinner because one of us has rushed the kid to the ER and won't be home for several hours), to not showing up to teach your class, to explaining to your other son why a planned afternoon or evening is down the drain, to managing your fear and exhaustion. I also learned to be very patient and not to ask why the prednisone isn't working faster, why is the doctor not figuring it out, not to scream at "helpful" people who suggest things like throwing out all the meds and just feeding the kid onions (this gem from my deeply unhelpful in-laws). The basic struggle, aside from pulling the child through this, being not to feel sorry for yourself, not to have a giant pity party, but instead to realize how much there is to be thankful for, including the boy himself.

I think I did that, that is, I was strong enough, or learned the strength, to carry on without making other people miserable with stories of "oh, poor son, poor me". Only when he began to grow out of the disease did I then look back on those years and reflect on them. I hadn't pitied myself, I was stoical about this being fate/destiny; I kept in mind Winston Churchill's words: "When you are going through he!!, keep going." I also worked hard not to pity my son, who very much wanted to be a normal, regular kid even when he was lugging along his breathing machine on field trips or to camp.

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But I wonder, does even telling the above story show a lack of humility? Is it "I am proud that I came out humble after this ordeal?" According to the rigorous ethics of orthodox Jewish law one should not discuss being proud of personal traits; true humility is in not talking about it, just as true charity does not tell how much you gave or to whom.

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I am certainly humbled by those people battling cancer. I've wondered if I could be that tough. I listened to Alex Trebek in an interview this evening. That utterly cool and sophisticated man related how he rolled on his dressing room floor in pain from the effects of chemo. How would we ever have known?

Sable, you're not showing a lack of humility, you're telling us how being humbled makes us a better person. I have my own private joke, if I see someone being self-righteous I always say (to myself) they need to be humbled. Truly humbled. Fall to their knees humbled.

Which is what happened to me a long time ago and as hellish as it was, it made me a better person.

Proverbs 3:34: He mocks proud mockers but gives grace to the humble.

The only drawback of being humbled is I have a hard time being gracious to the "mockers." Which is a whole different topic! :)

This is a tough topic. I worked for close to 30 years for my brother and his partner. The last paycheck was for the last week of 2016! Since that time I’ve been going through major personal “stuff”. (Silly me thought I would easily find another job.) In a way, I’m glad I didn’t. It’s given me time to reflect. Unfortunately, I finally realized that I had a great deal to do with the very poor relationship my two daughters have with each other. The day my eyes were opened to that was the most painful humbling day of my life. My beautiful wonderful children (I also have a son) Tears are in my eyes right now just feeling how much I love them. In a life where I never felt like much of a success, I adored being their Mom. I loved it. It was nothing I had ever even dreamt of as a girl. My husband and I tried to get it all right. My mistake was that I didn’t realize that I was carrying “baggage” from my own childhood. My two girls are 3 years apart. I was horribly teased as a child by my much older siblings. (Sister is 10 years older and brother 8.) I was too quick to jump in if there was any little thing between them. I’ve discussed all this with my kids and apologized. They are all such interesting, good people. I’m amazed. I’m working on myself and hoping time will help heal everything.

I know one can't rank distress or pain, although I too hesitate to write about my own feelings in comparison to what others have shared here. I'm blessed in so many ways, from health to family.

But I've been humbled by my past few years at work, years that turn out to have marked the end of my professional life. For decades I was at the top of my game and I felt that I was doing a great job helping the people I worked with, creating programs, managing big events and activities while also doing a lot of individual advising and support for my customers (students). I was in the trusted inner circle with senior leadership and I can't deny that was a source of quiet pride for me. It all ended with a newly appointed boss who came in along with a wave of other new senior leaders. He and I never made a professional connection and that eventually hardened into a complete freeze out from him, which then eventually turned into him actively disparaging and insulting me, often in front of my peers. Then too, time passes and I turned 60 YO so I'm sure part of my slow slide into feeling unneeded and disrespected at work is partially the reality of being older in the workplace.

Regardless, it really brought me to my knees emotionally. It was incredibly tough to be ignored, to have the ways of working that had been so successful either dismissed or criticized as being inadequate. And it made me realize how much of my self esteem and ego had been tied up in what I did for a living.

I suppose I'm a natural optimist because in the end I think all of it served a purpose for me. I'm retiring, and with that decision I've been able to climb up a little higher and take stock of the entire arc of my working life. It's been a great run. I think I did touch people's lives and help make them better.

I also understand more clearly now that work is work. It isn't your heart or your soul or your partner or your family. Time can't be saved or banked, so it is important to use it before you lose it. I'm very excited to start the next stage of my life and genuinely, finally ready to let go of the past 40 years of my life identity. And I would be lying if I didn't add that I've already found a couple of volunteer activities with people who are making it clear they are excited to have me around and be a part of their work--and that feels pretty good again LOL.

Being humbled has, I hope, made me stronger and just a little less smug about my place in the world. Which is as it should be!

I love these 'wimmen' of Conversations and how your hearts open with the slightest provocation. You are all part of my community.

Such great stories -thank you all so much for sharing. I love that our humbling has taken the face of living every day trying to keep a child alive, falling mightily from a place of honor, watching love fall apart, and everything in between. I also love what sabieinncal wrote, "But I wonder, does even telling the above story show a lack of humility? Is it "I am proud that I came out humble after this ordeal?" I almost didn't create this post because I was afraid that's how it would come across. There's a smarminess that I've witnessed sometimes when people emerge from something and are almost self-congratulatory (ugh, even that's coming out wrong). Anyway, I trust you all know what I mean. But I can't deny that my own tumbling down has left with a more fully open heart.

In many ways, I too have led something of a charmed life. I have of course known my share of heartache and disappointment, but the scale of such has not been of a magnitude that completely devastated me. I know that as I age, as do those I love, the likelihood of pain and trauma increases exponentially. In a way, that in itself is humbling, as it makes one recognize they are no different from others and we all suffer from The Human Condition.

Growing older has brought about a much more liberal outlook, and a deeper empathy and compassion for others. I find I care so much more for the plight of others than I did in my younger days. It is somehow humbling to recognize the humanity in strangers.

What uplifting stories from each of you. My assessment is the goal is to learn from our experiences and those of others and apply those lessons to make our lives better and those around us.

Worry and negativity steals precious time and brings others down. I have been humbled to realize that was one of the greatest errors I made in life, although the realization is that the mindset was born of fear that something bad would happen and perhaps it could be avoided if I could preclude events and situations from occurring.

I am humbled by the resilience of others in tragedies and their ability to make you feel better when you are concerned about them. We no doubt see it from friends and family struggling with illness and catastrophe. One of my closest friends died several years ago--the gift was that the last words were to comfort me about the future and reassurance about my own past tragedy.

If we are fortunate to reach a point in our lives to recognize the lessons you all have shared, it can impart to us peace and strength for the remainder of our lives. There will always be trepidation, fear, regret, aggravation and annoyance, but those things will be in perspective.

A smile, the benefit of the doubt, letting that which truly does not matter go, and a positive attitude are among the greatest gifts we give ourselves and others. There are those that pay attention to the lessons WE have learned. We pay it forward, like here.

Peace.

My children humble me. With a few minor exceptions, they have been healthy and have made good decisions in life. Sure, I can take credit for some of this, but when I read about devastating illnesses, or kids who have wonderful, caring parents who make one wrong decision that changes the course of their lives... I'm incredibly humbled by my path so far as a parent. It's been easy mostly due by pure chance, it seems.

I'm also humbled by time, which doesn't care what I do with it. So it's up to me to make the most of my life, and this is humbling. I read something the other day... we shouldn't fear the end of life, because that is not what death is. Death is time already spent.

Helping to care for and then losing my mother to pancreatic cancer. She handled it with grace and more than anything, worried about us and how it would affect us. This is a hard time of year for me (Mother's Day and she was diagnosed in May). Next would be my younger brother. The baby of the family but he has faced so much in his life! He was in a terrible car wreck at age 18. Head injury. Ten days in a coma, days/weeks in ICU and then on to a rehab center for stroke and head injury victims. He had to relearn everything from walking to writing. He was in his first semester of college. Missed one semester then returned to graduate and go on to graduate school. Lost his fiance to a heart defect. Congenital. She and her mother died within 6 weeks of each other. He is now in another rehab facility as he had a major back surgery in October. Much metal in his back now. He's in a wheelchair now, but progressing on his walking, standing, etc., etc., etc. It breaks my heart to visit him because the facility really reminds you of a nursing home and the majority of the patients are older (he's 48). I honestly don't know how he does it. His attitude is good and he just pushes on. I so admire him. Yes, people sometimes poke a little fun at me because I have a very positive outlook, apparently some think unrealastically so. I attribute it to my upbringing in part. Even now as my sister and I help care for my father, he fights on. You don't give up. There's always someone in worse shape that you, etc. Things he is still teaching me.

I just realized, in processing the experience of these last two years, that I neglected to mention one of the most powerful aspects, the part I learned the most from. There were moments when the kindness extended by others felt no less impactful than if they had swum out in raging seas to keep me from drowning. I couldn't help but wonder if I had been that person for others in times past. I could point to times in my mind, where I feel like I was. But I could also find times when I had come up short, when I had not sat there in the dark with them. Again, it's difficult to express perfectly, but what I'm trying to say is that even a small helping hand can feel very, very powerful when it's extended at the worst time -that's what I'm trying to remember moving forward.

Goodness it's so hard to write succinctly about what has humbled me. There are two senses of the word for me. First, becoming a parent humbled me. Seeing my good fortune in the genetics lottery played against the struggles some of my friends have had tremendously challenging situations has been humbling. I am not one quarter of the parent some of my friends with special needs children are.

Then there is the humbling of adversity, and set backs. I have not had a lot of that kind of adversity until I had a ton of it. And then what happened to me was very hard for people to relate to. And I became tremendously isolated during one of the most challenging times of my life. I don't blame people for not understanding- if I had been in their place I would have found it hard too. But from not being understood, I was blamed for what happened and that was devastating.

The core, the most important parts of my life stood the test of this adversity, my husband and children, my mother, but the very next layer of friendships and community, they dissolved. And I was really blindsided by that. I saw my worth in my "community" reduced to a negative value.

Now when I see people whose lives are difficult, I realize there is an invisible layer of struggle that attacks a person's self worth, that blames the victim in a way that can make the adversity a million times harder to bear. And I know that there are some sadnesses I can do nothing to help others with. I cannot make them better, but I can bear witness to their pain and weep with them, instead of turning my back because I feel helpless in the face of their struggle.

Bestyears, I am so sorry have been navigating difficult waters these past two years. I hope this chapter closes for you soon, and you enter the new one renewed and strengthened.

Now when I see people whose lives are difficult, I realize there is an invisible layer of struggle that attacks a person's self worth, that blames the victim in a way that can make the adversity a million times harder to bear. And I know that there are some sadnesses I can do nothing to help others with. I cannot make them better, but I can bear witness to their pain and weep with them, instead of turning my back because I feel helpless in the face of their struggle. - Rita

Very insightful and very well said. This is what I have tried to teach my children.

As others have mentioned, I too have led, from all outward signs, a charmed life. But as the adult child of an alcoholic father there is a lot of emotional baggage revolving around trust issues that comes with that. But, what was humbling for me, was watching my father struggle and struggle to overcome his battles and finally win. I've seen how hard it is to fight demons that came from his childhood and to succeed but it was an everyday fight. I do admire him for that and I watched him trying to make that up to my mother for the rest of their marriage until he died.

I have two siblings who have never forgiven him and who have never acknowledged his strength. For me, life is too short for that.

But that's what makes what Rita said so poignant and so thought-provoking.

Now when I see people whose lives are difficult, I realize there is an invisible layer of struggle that attacks a person's self worth, that blames the victim in a way that can make the adversity a million times harder to bear. And I know that there are some sadnesses I can do nothing to help others with. I cannot make them better, but I can bear witness to their pain and weep with them, instead of turning my back because I feel helpless in the face of their struggle. - Rita -Very profound. This is precisely what I was trying to say. Just showing up, sitting in the dark with someone, is almost unbearably kind at times.

I am humbled now just reading how well everyone here can articulate their experiences so clearly.

Lucky for those of you who feel you have had charmed lives.

What has humbled me? Years ago, one of my first jobs was working in a sleep away camp for severely disabled teens and adults.

Humbling to me was how someone could still hold their head up high while having to depend on someone else for every basic daily function and need. To this day, I have never taken for granted my ability to see, hear, talk and walk for granted.

Eld, I had the exact same experience when I was a teen. I was in awe of the wonderful people I met and it forever changed me.

I too led a charmed life for years and years. We've recovered but the beginning of the implosion came a day or so after I told some friends, "I am so content." Not sure if I jinxed myself or God decided I needed a smack upside the head. :)

Tina, when my nephew was 18 he had the same type of car accident. Ended up in a 6 month coma and now lives in a home for similar people. He's basically fine, a bit slow and lost some memory, but the accident gave him a hair trigger temper which made it impossible for him to live at home. He's in his 30's now and just the sweetest guy ever.

Such stories...my heart hurts for all of you.

I have mentioned it before, but depression humbled me. Before it happened I, like a lot of people, saw it as a kind of profound sadness. Now, I know better.

Depression is, to me, a lack of will. A lack of "want". And that leaves a great empty space inside you that gets filled up with pain. Depression hurts in an inexplicable way. The pain is SO great that you can only think of one escape...and you want that escape to come as soon as possible--that's how intense it is.

Imagine having no will for anything...You cease to care about your family, your work, your life, your appearance, your friends, your surroundings. It just isn't there any more.

Advice such as "go outside for a walk" becomes the literal equivalent of "sprout wings and fly". Impossible requests by people who mean well...all of them.

And those who have never had personal experience with it? I was told to: "Cheer up". "Just think pleasant thoughts". "What are you depressed about?" and the like. I wasn't angry at these thoughts directed at me, because I simply didn't care. I know these people meant well. But now that I feel better, I AM angry at this "advice".

Now, I do feel okay. But I know that depression lurks just around the corner. I battle every day to keep it there.

I am humbled by the women I know who have gone through cancer particularly breast cancer and have seemed to maintain a very positive attitude.

Once I read of a program where the depressed person wouldn't actually physically do anything by themselves because they couldn't. Someone would actually come in and move their legs and their arms everyday as they walked them around literally like a puppet. it worked very well for those who couldn't seem to even as penny said physically walk or do anything to start again.

Depression is a very weird thing anyway with so many individual reactions. My brother-in-law who has chronic deep depression loses his memory when it occurs. He started blacking out at the job and didn't know what he had done for the whole day. Luckily he was able to take early retirement and now is much better and is receiving the best medical assistance and treatment possible.

Being a teacher.