When you're being corrected, directed, appraised or criticised, you can guarantee that the person doing it to you is imperfect. Without humility, there's scope to say 'who does he think he is saying that when I've seen him....' or 'how dare she tell me to do that, I've never seen her...'.
But with humility, you can quietly accept the words of the roughest of rouges by seeing the rough diamond through the fog of western lusts and accepting them as who and what they are.
But why humility? Humility allows you to see your own flaws and in that, the futility of an argument which pits the other person's right to say something against your own to not have to listen to it. Humility puts the rights of the self aside and finds peace in a deeper truth than that of who can have the last word in a battle where nobody is truly 'right'.
This isn't about being a weak doormat, it's about being strong and that is why you find it harder to stay quiet than to speak up and tell him how wrong he is in the same way as it is harder to hold a weight at arm's length than to let it rest by your side.
Very often, you'll find yourself at the receiving end of a barrage of noisy imperfection, but you'll find truth in silence.
Humility rarely makes a noise. When it does, it whispers so that only the still can learn its peaceful secrets.
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