Humility and Response-ability*

How can humility lead to response-ability, the ability to respond with compassion and love, rather than wanting to take responsibility – trying to control what isn’t mine to manage? It’s a concept I’ve been wrestling with for the last month.

In Mussar class, we often talk about Alan Morinis’ definition of humility, “The ideal is to take up just as much space as is necessary to fulfill one’s mission of service in his or her life, neither more nor less.”

Yet I had never before considered humility’s relationship to the middah (soul trait) of responsibility. Then two things happened that helped me make this new and powerful connection.

The first was a gathering of my treasured evening Mussar group, whose members have been studying together for many years. We have shared joys and sorrows while building trusting and treasured relationships. We began the get-together by checking in. I was weighed down by the health of someone dear to me, and I described my feeling of responsibility and helplessness at impacting the situation. The group listened compassionately and, at my request, shared some insights.

After the check-in, we moved on to a discussion of the middah of the evening – humility.  And I had an ‘ah ha’ moment. Could I could frame my humility practice as not attempting to take responsibility for the well-being, behaviors and attitudes of others? If I could give up my need for control, relinquish my false sense of responsibility, would it increase my response-ability? Could I then respond with compassion? Listen instead of jump in with my own biases? Ask questions rather than rush to solutions? I decided that my practice for the month would be pairing humility with response-ability.

A week later, the second ‘ah ha’ moment occurred. I listened to a webinar with Dr. Margaret Paul, psychologist and co-founder of “inner bonding,” a six-step process she defines as “learning to love yourself and share your love with others.” She talked about her own journey from caretaker to self-care.

Paul caused me to think about distinguishing between caretaking that is motivated by the need to control others and caretaking that comes from love and compassion. Do I make Irv a haircut appointment because he wants it or I want his hair more groomed? Do I offer to help edit Dian’s story because he wants my input or I want him to get a good grade? Do I buy another spaghetti squash because Selam liked it or I want her to eat it? Am I taking responsibility rather than being responsive to the needs of others?

Thinking about caretaking as controlling reminded me of something a therapist said to me many years ago. She pointed out that I didn’t need to be the hub of my family wheel: I shouldn’t try to be at the center, attempting to take charge of everyone’s actions, beliefs, attitudes and health choices.

Remembering that discussion, I did some Google searching on the metaphor of the hub of the wheel. I learned that in Hinduism, the hub symbolizes the central source of structure and support, and represents connectedness. By using the middah of humility, I can choose support, connection and response-ability without the unrealistic and untenable desire to control the movement of the spokes.

It helps me to picture this metaphorical wheel on a sleek 18-speed road bike, taking us on our life’s journey. Each of us has our own bike and operates it in our own way. Some ride at top speed with determination and focus on the destination; others take the time to stop and appreciate their surroundings. Some ride in a straight line; others weave in and out. Some are steady; others fall off the bike and hopefully get back on. I cannot, and if I am honest with myself, really don’t want to, ride on the crossbar of the bikes of everyone I love.

Instead, I can aim to be response-able, helping navigate the route when asked, supporting them if they fall off, and even carrying some of the baggage. And at some point, I need to say ‘bon voyage’ and with humility and response-ability, let those I love choose their own destination and their pathway to it.

*Credit and thanks to Rabbi Jamie Arnold, Congregation Beth Evergreen, for reframing responsibility as response-ability.