Two Day Magazine

I recently had the opportunity to play golf with a world champion of tae kwon do.

Dubbed the fastest kicker alive during his competitive reign, he also went 127 fights without losing.

When I learned this, I told him jokingly, “Wow, you’re pretty talented I guess, huh?”

To which he replied, “When someone comes up to me and says, ‘I hear you’re pretty good at tae kwon do,’ I say, ‘You don’t think I already know that? I’m the best!’”

While he was joking, there was a part of him that wasn’t. He had a sense of pride in his accomplishments and he had every right to: he earned it. His success wasn’t handed to him and no one just made him the fastest kicker alive.

Some people might have viewed his statement as full of himself or a little bit tacky. But if you stood there with me and heard where this man came from, you would not have thought of him as cocky or arrogant. In fact, I can guarantee that you would have felt inspired by him. Through his pride there was still a hint of humbleness. During the round he kept telling me that he felt honored to play golf with me and hoped I could teach him a thing or two. However, when he asked me about my accomplishments in my golf career, I shied away from answering in fear of sounding cocky.

Somewhere along the line I learned that being humble meant downplaying my success. If people asked me how good at golf I was, I would say, “I’m pretty decent.”

One of my best friends from high school told me, “Anya, I never heard from you how good at golf you actually are. I have to read it in the newspapers or find out online. It’s okay to be proud of yourself, you know?”

While I appreciated her wanting me to take pride in my accomplishments, the thought of doing so seemed out of order of what I believed was right. Then, I met the tae kwon do master. He showed me just what it means to be humble yet prideful. He didn’t act like he was better than anyone else. He didn’t have an attitude that made it appear he was doing anyone a favor by gracing us with his presence. However, he was honest with others when asked about his achievements.

Everyone has a talent or some type of gift. A good friend of mine in college loves to cook and bake. Every time I went to her house she had goodies sitting on the kitchen table. She often invites people over to cook dinner for them or for birthdays she bakes a delicious cake. She is talented in the kitchen and she takes pride in the food she makes.  

She isn’t a snot in the kitchen and doesn’t act like she is the next Betty Crocker (which she definitely could be); her humility comes from sharing her gifts with others and not expecting anything in return. She doesn’t expect her friends to cook her dinner (she certainly wouldn’t want me to) and doesn’t expect us to praise her every time we take a bite. She enjoys that her gift in the kitchen brings her friends together and that her friends get to enjoy her hard work.

True humility is also not having too much pride to learn from mistakes. My pride is constantly tested on the golf course. Sometimes I try a shot that doesn’t work out as planned. I am faced with two options: one, to never try that shot again, or two, learn the appropriate time to hit that shot. So often, though, have I tried the same shot over and over again when I knew it wouldn’t work because I chose to not learn from my mistake.

I’m sure the master of tae kwon do I met had to learn from mistakes. I’m sure he got kicked in the face and suffered a bruised ego from time to time. But he learned from those mishaps and rose to the top of the tae kwon do world. He also shares his gift with others by teaching free workshops or doing exhibitions for charity.

I haven’t mastered being able to take pride in my accomplishments. But I do know I could share myself more. I also know I could learn from a few mistakes. As Mac Davis wrote in a catchy country song called It’s Hard to Be Humble:

Oh Lord it's hard to be humble
when you're perfect in every way.
I can't wait to look in the mirror

'cos I get better looking each day
to know me is to love me

I must be a hell of a man.
O Lord it's hard to be humble
but I'm doing the best that I can.

It takes time to learn the balance between taking pride in yourself and eating a slice of humble pie every now and again. Somewhere in the middle is a satisfying life.

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