False humbleness is just repressed ego, pretending to be humble but desiring to be at the top. Authentic humbleness has nothing to do with ego. It is absence of the ego. It has no claim of being superior to anybody. It is a simple and pure understanding that there is no one who is superior and there is no one who is inferior. People are just themselves; incomparably unique. You cannot compare them as superior or inferior.
Hence the authentic humble man is very difficult to understand because he will not be humble in the way you understand it. You have known hundreds of humble people, but they were all egoists and you are not insightful enough to see their repressed ego.
Once a Christian missionary woman, a young, beautiful woman came to my house. She presented me with The Holy Bible and a few other pamphlets, and she was looking very humble. I told her, “Take all this rubbish away from here. This Holy Bible of yours is one of the most unholy scriptures in the world,” – and immediately she exploded; she forgot all humbleness. I told her, “You can leave the Bible. It was just a device to show you who you are. You are not humble; otherwise you would not have been hurt.”
Only the ego is ever hurt. You cannot hurt a humble man.
True humbleness is simply egolessness. It is dropping all personality and the decorations that you have accumulated around you, and just being like a small child who does not know who he is, who does not know anything about the world. His eyes are clear; he can see the greens of the trees more sensitively than you can see.
Your eyes are full of the dust that you call knowledge. And why have you collected this dust that is making you blind? – because knowledge in the world gives a tremendous energy to your ego. You know and others don’t. The humble man knows nothing. He has come back the full circle to his childhood innocence. He is full of wonder. He sees mysteries everywhere. He collects stones and seashells on the sea beach, and rejoices as if he has found diamonds and emeralds and rubies.
In my childhood, my mother was very much troubled by me – and so was my tailor, because I used to tell him, “Make as many pockets as possible.”
He said, “On only one condition: that you don’t tell anybody who has made this dress. Because of you I am losing customers. They say, ‘This tailor has gone a little cuckoo’”…because I had pockets in front, at the back, on the side, on the pants, as many….
I told him, “Wherever you can find a little space, make a pocket. “He said, “Are you mad or something?” I said, “You can think anything, but I need that many pockets”…because by the river of my village there were so many beautiful colored stones, and I had to collect them, and I needed different pockets for different colors.