Voices: Selfish Generosity
After a mind-draining scriptwriting session Sunday night, I dozed off watching a horribly cheesey made for TV holiday movie.
One glimpse of a transparent Colombo (aka Peter Falk) in a tux and I should have had the good judgment to change the channel. But I was just tired enough to get sucked into the ridiculously predictable heart-wringer.
In a key plot point, an assistant store manager winterized an old homeless lady with the wool coat, Italian leather boots and cashmere scarf she had impulsively removed from a window mannequin. The convenient crowd of onlookers was so moved by her generosity that a phenomenon erupted. The news media arrived to document the piling donations and give the female protagonist a full three or more interrupted minutes of airtime.
Realistic it wasn't, but the movie served to remind me of a very interesting reality. The satisfaction of personal connection will be lacking from most of our holiday generosity this season. And the people who fail to share their good fortune with others will most likely do so because of this missing human element. Because they have not been touched, they have not been moved to give.
Those of you serving at soup kitchens and in other ways delivering the goods - congratulations! You are in an enviable position. You have been given a gift. The opportunity to witness the immediate benefits of your contribution is precious. You will no doubt line up to make a difference again and again, in part, because it felt so darn good the last time. It's OK, there's nothing to be ashamed of. Giving and sharing were designed to feel good, so people would want to do it. Like sex. Why do you think babies and toddlers are so adorable? So we'll want to take care of them, even when they're driving us crazy.
The cynical might call it the dark side of philanthropy. Much of human generosity has historically been about buying our way into heaven or correcting our karma. But that's cool. Charities don't mind, really. Show me a social service organization above capitalizing on your guilt.
In the bad holiday movie, the woman's random act of kindness was written off as a marketing stunt, conducted with full awareness, to increase business. It wasn't until her little brother ran away scenes later that her heart actually began to beat. It's the Scrooge syndrome, in a sense. Life or society has demanded we be aggressive and tough-skinned, but thanks to the holidays, we're allowed to soften up for a couple of weeks. It's a spiritual detox. Time to repair some of the psychological damage before resolving with the New Year to give ourselves an external overhaul.
So by all means, drop off your Toys for Tots, put your perishable foods in the barrel, adopt an angel or a whole family, and send care packages to the troops over seas. But don't forget to get a little something out of it for yourself. The full power of holiday spirit can't be witnessed in a one-sided act. A flow between two people is the only way to walk away with something deeper. You may not be able to feel the full force of the coins you've tossed in the Salvation Army bucket, but with one simple generous act you can give and receive in one stroke. Allow me to suggest a random act of listening.
Everybody has a story and most are waiting for a chance to share it. The best stories almost always come from the most unexpected sources. The last time I couldn't put down a book, I was reading the just-released memoirs of JoJo The Clown.
It's not a person's job that makes him interesting. It's his perspective of the world that has the potential to fascinate. It's the difficult decisions a person has made that might inspire you. It's what he does when he's not at work that you can trust. Ask about the things that have made him laugh and cry and swear and share.
Sure, it's scary - you never know what a stranger might say! But, do it anyway. Start with a smile and a "hello" to a passerby as you walk down the street. Connect with someone in your community who lives in a different world. Most of us live in such narrow circles these days we can knock on a neighbor's door and introduce ourselves to a stranger. I know I could.
Give your donation, give as many as you can, but don't neglect to give yourself the gift of a personal connection.
-- alicia grega-pikul, 2 december 2004
Send e-mail to: apikul@timesshamrock.com.
