By Luke Anderson

I really didn’t know the true meaning of humility until just recently. 

Not long ago, I forced myself to think about my daily routine. My weekday begins around 7 when one of my attendants comes to get me out of bed. It takes just under two hours to get dressed, cleaned up, have breakfast and get out the door. My trip to work is great because it takes 12 minutes and 24 seconds – I’ve timed it – to get from my door to work.

I usually work until 5:30 or 6 before heading home to meet up with another attendant who assists with putting together dinner. They stick around until 7:30, and I’ve got an hour or so to myself before another attendant arrives at 9. We finish up around 11 and I’m out like a light until it starts all over again the next morning.

The typical project that I’m involved with begins with a set of floor plans from an architect. From these plans it is my job to figure out where the structural support needs to be in order for the building to remain standing under the forces that the occupants and Mother Nature throw at it.

I enjoy solving a problem but I often find myself questioning the meaningfulness of my work. After spending weeks completing and submitting one design, I will receive a set of revised architectural drawings a couple of weeks later which sometimes means that I have to start completely from scratch.

This is the nature of the industry; project budgets change and everyone I work with is in the same boat. It often means staying late and sometimes working on the weekend to make a deadline. With pride I’ve stubbornly tried to keep up to the rest and show no weakness, but I now know that this is not the right approach.

Near the end of one workday, my supervisor commented on the exhausted look on my face and asked if everything was OK. I started to say everything was fine, but then I hesitated, let go of my pride and told him the real deal. I had just opened the door for my true understanding of humility. Having that conversation moved me away from seeking approval to seeking enlightenment.

And that’s what I found soon after when I gave a presentation at an elementary school and saw a transformation happen in front of me. The kids walked into the gym and didn’t know what to make of me. Looks of nervousness began to appear on their faces. But as I began telling them about my life and how I managed to get to their school that morning, their apprehension slowly changed into curiosity and interest.

After 45 minutes I had a swarm of kids ten deep around me waiting for their chance to ask questions like, “How fast can that chair go?” and what my favourite colour was. Forty-five amazing minutes, each one filled with meaning.

So I’ve decided to take my recent experience and make some changes in my life. Instead of working five days a week, I am now working four. This frees up time which I plan on using to organize and prepare for more speaking engagements in schools and at the corporate level.

I’ve got a lot of work on my plate at the engineering firm, but I’ve got an even bigger job shedding light on a different way of life. This transition towards a life full of satisfaction and meaning would not be possible without your help. This is a huge day and every year I am completely overwhelmed trying to find a way to describe my thanks.

You may not believe it, but you’ve allowed me to show my weaknesses and carried me towards an understanding of a word that represents the best that life has to offer. That word is humility. 

Luke Anderson is a former Free Press columnist who grew up in Whitchurch-Stouffville. In October 2002, he suffered severe spinal cord injuries in a mountain biking accident in Rossland, B.C. This is the text of a speech he gave at the annual Lucas Anderson Golf Tournament in May.

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