Posted by Elizabeth

A few weeks ago, when my friend Meghan was in town, we stopped off at a chic local coffeehouse Starbucks on our way to Santa Fe.  Meghan ordered a tall black coffee; I ordered a decaf soy vanilla latte.  As the cashier rang up our order, I said, “These are separate.”  Meghan quickly interjected.  “No, it’s on me.”  After I politely demurred and Meghan politely protested and I politely accepted, I found myself completely delighted and genuinely thankful.

Over the course of the weekend, Meghan and I shared many conversations about what it means to cultivate generosity.  That’s her word, generosity, and I like it because it represents a broader umbrella to cover terms like “compassion,” “charitable,” “open-hearted,” and “giving” that we tend to use more frequently.  As we sat chatting over lunch in a bright and sunny room one day, Meghan explained generosity to me this way.  “Take the coffee, for example.  It’s a small gesture for me, but it makes your day.  If I have a closed fist, it can’t be open to accept the good things flowing into my life.”  She demonstrated for me, pumping a clenched fist open and closed.

For the past year, I’ve been struggling to improve my relationship to generosity; it’s a part of my life I’d like to rewrite.  Maybe it’s the only child in me, but I’ve always had a hard time giving freely of my time and money.  When a friend is nosing around for help with a project, I find myself casting my gaze downward, kicking the ground with the toe of my shoe, waiting for someone else to step forward.  I have rarely volunteered.  I (shamefully) balked when Maikael announced that he was donating $100 to the United Way Campaign through his workplace.  When dining out with friends, I’ve all too often found myself dividing dinner checks down to the penny.  These are ugly qualities that I’m not proud of.

Lest my ego get too battered here, let me assure you that I am not a completely selfish person.  There are certain ways in which I am very good at being generous.  When time forces me to choose between talking to a dear friend who needs support and crossing an item off my to-do list, I will always choose the friend.  I am diligent about sending cards with an appropriately personalized message for any occasion you can imagine.  I make an effort to bake a favorite homemade cake for a friend’s birthday.  I guess you could say I’m emotionally generous, but there is a part of me that wonders if I do these things because they are the types of things I like to do.

When I traveled around the world last year, I was struck by the realization that most of the world does generosity better than we do.  Although we have more to give than most of the world, I never realized what a “tit for tat” culture we tend to be.  (In support of this, studies have consistently shown that those with the most tend to give the less, and that those who give generally report higher levels of happiness.)  I was continually surprised by the way in which people – often perfect strangers – would share with us what little they had, with no expectation of anything in return.  The reason, I think, is that the more we have, the more we feel like we have to lose.  But the truth of the matter goes back to Meghan’s closed-fist demonstration:  by cultivating more generosity, we enrich our lives.

When I returned from my trip last March, one of my primary goals was to practice more generosity.  While I was gung-ho about the endeavor at first, lately I’ve found myself slipping; my generosity muscles could use some exercise.  If I could emulate anyone in the generosity department, it would be my best friend, Heidi.  Over the years, I have seen her care for elderly grandparents; take in displaced relatives for long stretches of time; deliver care baskets; encourage charitable giving amongst her children; volunteer with her church; and make last minute, long-haul trips to see people who want to see her.  This is the woman who will fly to New Mexico for a weekend in July just to throw me a baby shower, and will fly out again weeks later to help me care for my newborn child, despite the fact that she has three young children of her own.  She often does these things without being asked, and without complaint.  She does these things not always because she wants to, but because it’s the noble thing to do, and that’s what generosity is all about.

As I think about the ways in which I want to practice more generosity in my life, I’m going to try and take a page from Heidi’s book.  I will volunteer my time with a smile.  I will step forward when I know someone needs help before they have to ask me.  I will “put my money where my mouth is” and financially support the causes I believe in.  I will do more “little things” that I know will brighten someone’s day.  I will unclench my hardened fist.

Do you think we can “choose” the ways in which we want to be generous, or does the true spirit of generosity inherently come from doing things we might not otherwise choose to do?  In what ways do you cultivate generosity in your own life?  Is this an area you’d like to work on, or do you already consider yourself a generous person?  What generous souls do you admire in your life?