What you are is never changing, and you can’t put a finger on it. It can’t be humble, it can’t be proud. It’s only ever aware.
What you’re aware of is always changing. You’re aware of these emotions that arise unbidden within you, and, using a matrix of societal norms, you give them names and judge them good or bad, better or worse, etc.
Since before you could speak, this matrix has been layered onto you, to help you fit in, help you become a productive and predictable member of society. This is what the community does to survive. But you’re none of these things, and never have been. We don’t choose our desires, our dispositions, our reactions. So many of these things are probably just chemical, even though they submit to a certain amount of control.
The error lies in identification, which gives rise to the emotional bind, and then to baseless joy and sorrow. A roller-coaster of feelings that seem more real than the air around you.
There is no “answer” to make this stop. Only see these things, watch them come and go, get a feel for what your existence really is. What’s left at the end of the day, once all these emotions and reactions quiet down? What’s different tomorrow, or the next day? What stays the same?
In struggling to gain the upper hand and master such demons, we make the road longer and more difficult. This is probably what brings about so much frustration and agitation: the inability to control what is no more than a vapor in the desert.
Whatever seems complex, layered, rich with distinctions, discard it. What you call “you” is built up from so many tiny, illusory bricks; and even though we weren’t aware of it most of the time, we allowed every one to be fit into place. The arguments we wage in our head? They aren’t ours. The beliefs we hold so dear? Not ours. The ideas, logic, the scaffolding of wisdom to help us rationalize life? All borrowed.
What you really are is none of these. As you breathe, in and out: there, that. It cannot be separated, and needs no joining. Only refrain from picking and choosing.
This doesn’t mean you won’t feel rage anymore if somebody cuts you off the road. Only, it should seem a curious thing, this reaction; and then, after time has passed, more so, until almost amusing. The key lies not in what you feel, but in really seeing it, feeling it fully, honestly, and then deciding if you’ll choose to own it, or let it be.