When was the last time you felt proud? Would you share that affecting moment with me?
“Oh, I don’t like to think about that,” he scoffed. “Of the seven deadly sins, medieval theologians reserve a special place for pride. It’s the root of all evil: gluttony, lust, envy…” And while I tried to re-frame my question he continued explaining how pride is “always represented in the stone of cathedrals” as a shameful vice.
I wasn’t trying to pin my dad into a “gotcha!” moment of admitting to arrogance or hubris or superiority. Rather what I hoped to do was celebrate his most recent accomplishment with him. It would be the real-life version of him sending me a rockin’ text (ex. “I was invited to referee the next World Cup! 😲⚽💪🏻”) and then me double-clicking the message to emphasize it with a LOVE or TWO EXCLAMATION MARKS!!
The seven other deadly sins - greed, wrath, envy, lust, gluttony, and sloth - are universally accepted as dangerous and egotistical (except in quarantimes when COVID-15 is rampant (and natural) and our someday, whensday, doesn’tmatterday attitude is inescapable). Few words in our moral vocabulary illicit such broad meanings as “pride.” Synonyms include self-respect, self-regard, self-esteem, self-importance, self-glorification, self-adulation. Incredible isn’t it, that one word can describe both one’s hard-earned self-content and their excessive narcissism?
For me pride is a positive notion of self-worth based on my history of perseverance. Pride is my satisfaction of personal accomplishment. My pride peaks when my self-doubt is shushed, when I am validated in a space in which I am insecure or unsure of my worth. Pride broadens my chest with a breath of self-assertion; it does not drown others in an arrogant superiority.
The roller-coaster of school/work/creativity can feel intimidating & exhilarating & okaynowthisneedstoendrightnow. Sometimes we hyper-focus on the challenge of chugging uphill and forget that the pure bliss of the ride will come. You know that rush of relief as the tip peeks over the mountain? That inevitable moment when your stomach sinks and you cannot control your facial expressions? To me, that is what pride feels like.
Being receptive to self-love and self-praise is perhaps more challenging than accepting love and praise from others. So I will begin with myself:
CORO Women in Leadership Program Participant
Upon receiving my acceptance into the CORO Women in Leadership Program, my heart was flooded with joy. When I submitted my application I was operating under the assumption that I would not be chosen to participate. Is that insecurity? Of course. Should I be more assured in my capabilities? Sure. But my pride of being invited to be a member of the selective group is radiant because of my initial uncertainty. If I completed the application already thinking I was a shoe-in, I might have not been as compelled or motivated to “convince” the readers that I am worth their investment of time & energy.
Instead of perpetuating complacency in conversations with her friends surrounding social injustices, my mom proposed they all read “How to be an Anti-Racist.” I am proud of you, Mom, for taking a step outside of your comfort zone to promote actual action and engagement (because we know that complaining about the state of our world is not enough).
During a heated discussion my sister beautifully articulated why it is unacceptable that race be used as a strategic “pawn” in various scenarios. I am proud of you, Daria, for standing your ground and advocating on behalf of communities of color.
When I asked my dad if he has worn his new birthday present yet, HE SAID YES. To put it simply: this is the opposite of a deadly sin. My dad’s old socks illicit wrath (in my nostrils). The fact that he wore his new socks within a week of his birthday is a miracle. I am proud of you, Dad, for realizing that socks are no longer socks if they are more hole than fabric.
I am proud of my Professional Horseback-Riding Friend who is gaining traction within the community and being sought out to train more horses!
I am proud of my Adventure-Bound Friend who, after months spent in uncertainty and flux, is pulling up their big-girl-panties and taking an assertive step forward in an unanticipated direction.
I am proud of my Introspective Friend who is taking an entire month to decompress, recenter, and reacquaint themselves with their fundamental values, loving relationships, and the beautiful earth.
I am proud of my Flour Water Salt Yeast Friend who, despite potential discomfort, is setting healthy boundaries in our relationship that underscore their honest communication and commitment to respectful friendship.
When was the last time you felt proud? Would you share that affecting moment with me?