Glimmer of Hope

A couple months ago, I wrote about having to endure the insufferable taste of humble pie.  The vividness of the event remains so agonizing clear that I can still recall every single excruciating digestible second.  It’s as if a steaming heaping helping of humble pie is being served to me right now.

Lest you forget, humble pie is like that yucky taste you get after eating something rotten and no matter how many times you gargle with minty mouthwash or brush your teeth, the awful taste just won’t seem to go away.  For God sake, I’ve got to stop thinking about humble pie already.  I’m actually starting to feel sick to my stomach again.

AND THE STORY GOES

Fortunately, the terrible taste of humble pie that I experienced earlier in the summer did not last as long as the memory of it.  And recently, I was finally able to enjoy a differing experience – one that gave me a respite from the thought of being served humble pie.  Through the benefit of this contrary experience, I learned that not only is humble pie not served eternally but that the universe offers a welcomed alternative and a tricky protagonist to humble pie.

Before I tell you more about the alternative and the tricky protagonist, maybe you should know who and what is the antagonist.  I’m sure you know this already but just in case you forgot what you learned in ninth grade English – every great story has both a protagonist and an antagonist.  The story of being served humble pie is no different.  And for the record, Humble pie is the unbearable antagonist.

Humble pie is Lago in Othello.  Humble pie are the feuding Montagues and Capulets in Romeo and Juliet.  Humble pie is Uncle Scar in the Lion King.  Humble pie is that one family member…  Well maybe it’s better if we don’t open that Pandora’s Box.

At any rate – in the real world exclusive of family members of course – humble pie is an annoyance. Humble pie is the ultimate unforgettable irritation.  You should also know that Humble pie doesn’t discriminate either – at one time or another we all consume Humble pie.  Simply put, Humble pie is that experience or occasion that concludes with you feeling embarrassed, shamed, guilty and/or humiliated.

LET THE GOOD TIMES ROLL

So as I was saying, a short while ago, I had the good fortune of experiencing the opposite of Humble pie.  If you’re thinking I had a slice of Arrogance cake, you would be wrong.  As long as we are talking about the figurative baked sweet of Arrogance cake, it’s probably worthwhile for me to offer this public service announcement.

WARNING: Be extremely careful of eating Arrogance cake, it’s not much better than Humble pie.

Although eating Arrogance cake won’t increase the measurements on the scale, expand your waistline nor raise your cholesterol levels like actual cake – Arrogance cake is no less lethal than a cake made with flour, sugar, eggs, and butter.  In fact, consuming Arrogance cake is the ominous precursor to being forced to consume more Humble pie.   And by consume I mean, guzzle down – as in being waterboarded – by more humble pie than you could ever possibly imagine.

NOT TOO HIGH, NOT TOO LOW

Now that you know a bit about the evils of Arrogance cake, let me tell you why Arrogance cake – the tricky protagonist – matters.  Arrogance cake is the yin to Humble pie’s yang.  Like all interdependent oppositions, the protagonist and antagonist relationship that exists between Arrogance cake and Humble pie manifests as a reminder to never get too high or to sink too low.  When recognized and used correctly the two opposing positions presents us with a remarkable opportunity to find balance.

Just as it is with great literature, the protagonist and antagonist in our lives are both flawed.  Thus, the best thing to do when having an opportunity to bask in an accomplishment of a specific task (Arrogance cake) or lament a particular setback (Humble pie) is to avoid spending time being too high or sinking too low.  The safest thing we can do is to make good use of the alternative.

THAT LITTLE THING I CALL A “GLIMMER OF HOPE”

So there I was the other day, the scene was set for me to celebrate my moment of good fortune.  Arrogance cake was everywhere and it was beckoning me to have a big fat slice.  However, I knew better than to rejoice – I knew better than to eat the cake.

You see I’d been here before.  So instead of reveling in “my moment”, I chose the alternative.  I waited pensively – as I completely understood what this moment of prosperity truly meant.

This was not a time to eat the cake – gorging on self-aggrandizing statements like “I told you so”, “look at me”, or something slightly more perverse.  Nor was it the time to puff out my chest or hold my head so high that should it rain I might drown.  Without question, this was merely my chance to find balance – to see the moment for nothing more or nothing less than what it actually was.  This was a time to acknowledge that little thing I call a “glimmer of hope”.

GLIMMER OF HOPE

You probably have never heard this but a “glimmer of hope” is that dim yet distinctive intermittent flicker that reminds you of what you desire.  A “glimmer of hope” is a signal that what you dream is actually possible.  A “glimmer of hope” not only keeps us balanced but it keeps us honest.

In short, a “glimmer of hope” is our subconscious guide that prevents us from thinking too highly or feeling too lowly about ourselves.  When used correctly, a “glimmer of hope” is the sustainable fuel that keeps us moving forward.

EVERYONE IS DOING IT

A “glimmer of hope” is available to us all.  Those who we most esteem – those who are universally recognized as the best among us – are especially guided by the tenet of a “glimmer of hope”.  Having the foresight to see a successful or unsuccessful moment or for what it is – merely a previous moment.  This is how the greats approach life.

Unfortunately for the masses, when we have good fortune we act like Prince – celebrating the moment like its 1999. And when we have a bad moment, we act like Chicken Little – proclaiming that the sky is fallen. Not the Greats!

The Greats regard one championship, one platinum album, one best seller, one great product… as an indication that with a dream and a strategic process another monumental moment is possible followed by another and another and another…  The Greats don’t get caught in the moment – stuffing themselves with Arrogance cake.  The Greats focus on how much they disdain the taste of Humble Pie.

You need only try to imagine Michael Jordan, Serena Williams, The Beatles or Apple with only one championship, one major, one great song or one great product.  Try to imagine what history or the world might look like if any of the Greats took time to devour Arrogance cake or elected to be paralyzed by Humble pie.  Would we admire them still?  Would we find them partying like it’s 1999?  Would we ever hear them announcing that the sky had fallen? I think not!

MORAL TO THE STORY

So now is the time to do the thing we do after reading any great story, we look for the deeper meaning – we ask ourselves what’s the moral.  While my story probably won’t qualify as great literature, there is a moral nonetheless.

The moral is simple.  If you don’t want Humble Pie, don’t eat the Arrogance cake.  And always remember to keep your eyes open for the thing that is of profound importance – the “glimmer of hope”.

Believe me when I tell you, when you dream and follow a strategic process – another “glimmer of hope” is on the horizon.

Have others labeled you as Chicken Little – the person ready to give up when things get challenging? Have you been surreptitiously nicknamed Prince – the person still celebrating yesterday’s accomplishment? Are you raising a child who knows why and how to look for and find their “glimmers of hope”?