A dozen nickels
In the book I'm reading, a someone just gave a gift to a man living alone on an island in a lake in the far north: a bag of potatoes, a small block of lard, and a scrap of cloth tied up around 12 nickels.
I was thinking how good it would feel to give those things to someone you care about, and know that they would see it as a really great gift.
One of the paradoxical things about living in such an affluent society is that in a weird way it makes it harder to be truly generous. Most of the people I know are more or less in the same economic situation as me – we all seem to have so much already – so what can I give that is really useful or even needed? Giving to people who have much less than I do is sort of alienating in a way, if I don't know them personally – giving to organizations, for example, though I do that too – and if I do know them, it has the potential to become somehow embarrassing ... I don't want anyone to feel ashamed by being targeted by me as "needy."
How to share in a way that makes everyone feel richer, without incurring a sense of obligation that one person or another will feel burdened by having to repay? Or ashamed at being unable to repay?
Generosity is such a deep art, I think. I want to get better at it.
For as long as I can remember, almost every gift I've ever given or received has fallen more or less into the category of "nice to have" – even things like socks or pretty little jars of jam are still sort of extra, because I already have all the socks I need, and all the food I need.
I've always thought of this as a good thing. Of course it is! What would my life feel like if I really did not have a single pair of socks? How would a gift of socks seem different then?
Don't get me wrong, I love receiving gifts. But more than the thing itself, it just feels good to know someone cares about me, and is thinking about me.
In the book, the guy on the island wasn't starving, and he didn't really "need" the gifts he received. But he was living low enough on the food chain that they were meaningful and useful to him all the same. That seems like a good balance to strive for – all your needs are covered, but you're not so overwhelmed with excess that an unexpected gift ends up feeling more like a burden than a blessing.
The idea of sharing comes to mind. When people have more, do they share more? Or do they have more because they share less? When you have less, do things become more important? Or less important? Maybe when you live with less, you realize how little you really need, and it becomes easier to let things go. I read somewhere recently that once people's basic needs have been met, more money doesn't necessarily translate into more happiness – there are just as many happy poor people as happy rich people, and just as many unhappy people in each category.
Maybe I'm just in spring cleaning mode. Wanting to clear out the clutter and make more space for the air to move through.
A little stack of nickels really is such a beautiful thing.
I was thinking how good it would feel to give those things to someone you care about, and know that they would see it as a really great gift.
One of the paradoxical things about living in such an affluent society is that in a weird way it makes it harder to be truly generous. Most of the people I know are more or less in the same economic situation as me – we all seem to have so much already – so what can I give that is really useful or even needed? Giving to people who have much less than I do is sort of alienating in a way, if I don't know them personally – giving to organizations, for example, though I do that too – and if I do know them, it has the potential to become somehow embarrassing ... I don't want anyone to feel ashamed by being targeted by me as "needy."
How to share in a way that makes everyone feel richer, without incurring a sense of obligation that one person or another will feel burdened by having to repay? Or ashamed at being unable to repay?
Generosity is such a deep art, I think. I want to get better at it.
For as long as I can remember, almost every gift I've ever given or received has fallen more or less into the category of "nice to have" – even things like socks or pretty little jars of jam are still sort of extra, because I already have all the socks I need, and all the food I need.
I've always thought of this as a good thing. Of course it is! What would my life feel like if I really did not have a single pair of socks? How would a gift of socks seem different then?
Don't get me wrong, I love receiving gifts. But more than the thing itself, it just feels good to know someone cares about me, and is thinking about me.
In the book, the guy on the island wasn't starving, and he didn't really "need" the gifts he received. But he was living low enough on the food chain that they were meaningful and useful to him all the same. That seems like a good balance to strive for – all your needs are covered, but you're not so overwhelmed with excess that an unexpected gift ends up feeling more like a burden than a blessing.
The idea of sharing comes to mind. When people have more, do they share more? Or do they have more because they share less? When you have less, do things become more important? Or less important? Maybe when you live with less, you realize how little you really need, and it becomes easier to let things go. I read somewhere recently that once people's basic needs have been met, more money doesn't necessarily translate into more happiness – there are just as many happy poor people as happy rich people, and just as many unhappy people in each category.
Maybe I'm just in spring cleaning mode. Wanting to clear out the clutter and make more space for the air to move through.
A little stack of nickels really is such a beautiful thing.
2 Comments:
"Is that a stack of nickels, or are you just happy to see me?"
Your musings led me to mind of being in jail for 35 days. Every scrap in an inmate's cell was potentially precious. Paper, plastic, metal.
For example, you could use a sheet of paper to cover the vent that blew cold air no matter the temperature. Inmates who happened to get a smuggled cigarette could use a straightened paper clip in an outlet to light the cigarette, or alternatively to create a loud explosion and hours-long power outage. (Careful there, cowboy!)
A Dorito chip after weeks of bland food tasted powerfully rich and strong.
A stick of nackels?
Post a Comment
<< Home