The Many Roads to Seven
By Kateb Nuri-Alim Shunnar
I’ve met a lot of people in life who hold on tight to the idea that they’re always right. You know the type the ones who talk over others, dismiss suggestions with a wave of their hand, and act like their way is the only way. It’s as if being right is their lifeline, something they can’t let go of even when it’s pulling them under. It’s not just stubbornness it’s pride in a suit of armor, too thick for humility to break through.
Now, I grew up with a grandmother whose wisdom could knock you sideways if you weren’t ready for it. She’d say things that seemed so simple at first, but the older I got, the more I realized she was telling me the secrets of life. I remember one day when she sat me down and said, “Kateb, just because I taught you 5+2 equals seven doesn’t mean someone else is wrong for saying 6+1 equals seven.” I nodded, feeling like I understood, but she wasn’t done yet. “And sometimes,” she added with a glint in her eye, “you gotta take something away. 8 minus 1 still gets you seven. Life doesn’t always come together by adding things; sometimes you have to let something go to find what you’re looking for.”
Let me tell you, that little math lesson taught me more about life than any classroom ever could.
See, we like to believe our perspective is the perspective. That our solution is the solution. But the truth is, there are countless ways to reach the same outcome. Someone else might look at a problem with eyes that see more color and detail than we do. They might approach a situation with experiences that give them a kind of vision we haven’t earned yet. And if we’re too busy shutting them down clinging to our way because we’re afraid of being “wrong” we miss out.
I’ll be honest: I’ve been there. I’ve been so sure of myself, so determined to stick to my plan, that I refused to hear what someone else had to say. And more than once, it backfired.
It’s like football, if you’ll indulge me for a second. Picture a quarterback who’s determined to hit the home-run pass every time. He’s got his eye on the end zone, the crowd’s roaring, and he wants the play. So he forces the ball downfield, ignoring the easy options right in front of him. And what happens? Interception. Turnover. The other team gets the ball, and the quarterback walks back to the sidelines shaking his head. All because he couldn’t see another way.
Life works the same way. When you force outcomes, when you ignore the wisdom of those around you because you think you’ve got it all figured out, you end up fumbling the opportunities life hands you. It’s not always about the deep pass or the “big” play. Sometimes the smartest move is a short gain. Sometimes you need to let someone else carry the ball. And sometimes, you just have to stop, listen, and realize you’re not the only one on the field.
Now here’s the thing about humility it’s not about you. People think being humble means shrinking yourself down or pretending you don’t matter, but that’s not it at all. True humility means understanding that life isn’t just about you. You’re not the center of the universe, and the world doesn’t spin around your desires, plans, or opinions.
Humility is realizing that we are all threads in the same tapestry of humanity. Your thread matters, yes, but so does everyone else’s. And if you can’t see that, if you’re always trying to pull the spotlight onto your own strand, the whole picture starts to unravel.
My grandmother used to say, “Kateb, no one’s climbing this mountain alone. When you get so focused on your own path that you can’t see the people climbing alongside you, you’ve lost your way.” She was right. Life isn’t about proving yourself. It’s not about being seen or in charge or praised for being “the one who knows best.” It’s about connection. It’s about sharing the road, listening to the wisdom of others, and understanding that no one has all the answers not even you.
Humility gives you the space to learn and grow because you’re no longer holding onto the need to be right all the time. When you humble yourself, you realize that other people yes, even the ones you might dismiss have something to teach you. They bring their own stories, struggles, and solutions to the table, and if you’re too busy drowning in your ego, you’ll miss it all.
It’s a hard lesson, I won’t lie. Our pride likes to keep us safe. It tells us we’re important, that our way is the best way. But that’s a lonely path to walk. When we step back, when we humble ourselves and truly listen, we invite something much bigger than ourselves into our lives. We invite wisdom. We invite understanding. And most importantly, we invite growth.
And here’s the kicker: humility isn’t something you do for yourself it’s something you do for others. It’s a way of saying, “I see you. I value you. I believe you have something to offer.” When you live with humility, you stop competing with the people around you and start learning from them.
Let’s be real: life isn’t about you. It’s about what you can give, who you can lift up, and how you can leave the world a little better than you found it. And you can’t do that if you’re always trying to stand at the top of the hill with your arms crossed, claiming you know everything. That’s not strength it’s insecurity in disguise.
Strength comes from knowing when to listen. It comes from stepping aside and letting someone else’s light shine. It comes from understanding that 5+2, 6+1, and 8-1 all get you to seven, and every path has its own beauty.
So the next time you feel yourself digging in your heels, clinging to the need to be right, remember this: life is bigger than your opinion. It’s bigger than your plan. Be humble enough to let go, to learn, and to share the road. Because when you do, you might just discover that someone else has a map to a place you didn’t even know existed.
And as my grandmother always said, “Kateb, the view is always better when you let someone else show you where to look.”
Author’s Note
Kateb Nuri-Alim Shunnar
This piece reflects the soul of humility a virtue so often lost in a world obsessed with power, recognition, and validation. The colors speak louder than words. Earthy browns and deep blues root us in a quiet truth: we are small, yet significant. They ground us, pulling us back to the core of who we are. Soft yellows and crimson reds dance across the canvas, adding warmth, connection, and the fire of humanity that only shows itself when ego steps aside.
The fluid, undefined shapes represent life’s chaos and beauty. Nothing is rigid here. The colors blend and shift, just as we should when we learn to let go let go of being “right,” of being in charge, of thinking our way is the only way. My grandmother once told me, “There are many ways to get to 7. Just because I taught you 5 + 2 doesn’t mean 6 + 1 is wrong. And sometimes, subtraction works too 8 minus 1 gets you there.”
That wisdom lives in this painting. It’s a visual reminder that humility opens doors to clarity. We don’t always have to dominate, dictate, or demand. Sometimes, stepping back and subtracting pride reveals the bigger picture one filled with color, texture, and perspectives we’d otherwise miss.
Humility isn’t about shrinking yourself or denying your worth. It’s understanding that the world doesn’t revolve around you. It’s about blending into the collective beauty of humanity, recognizing that everyone carries a unique hue a perspective, a journey, a story worth listening to.
The abstract design calls on us to embrace unpredictability, to trust the process of connection, and to listen more than we speak. There’s strength in humility. Power in silence. And wisdom in knowing that sometimes, the most beautiful outcomes happen when we’re willing to share the brush and let others add their touch.
This painting is not just art it’s an invitation. Step back. Blend. Learn. Grow. When we humble ourselves, we don’t lose color. We become part of something far more vibrant.
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