What’s Missing?

“What’s missing?” The question creates a certain panic in me, even now.

You probably remember the classic game where you are presented with a tray of items covered with a small towel, you are shown the items for a few seconds which is your time to try to remember as many items as you can – stapler, rubber band, paperclip, toy car, watch, pencil sharpener. Then the towel is replaced and you need to write down as many items as you can remember.

Where it became ‘next level’ intense was when some items were removed, you are shown what is left, and you need to recall what is no longer there. This seemed to come really easily to some people, but I always struggled to see what wasn’t there.

Perhaps it is because I have a below average short-term memory, although I like to think that it is because I am content with what I have that I don’t feel the need to look for what’s missing (it’s probably the first one though). Maybe that’s the real difference between the two versions of the game — one trains you to notice what’s gone, the other to notice what’s still there.

Lao Tzu said:

“Be content with what you have; rejoice in the way things are. When you realize there is nothing lacking, the whole world belongs to you.”

Focusing on what is already there in life can be difficult. We get used to things, to waking up in the same bed, seeing the same people, eating the same food, and we can easily forget that we have a bed, people in our life who love us and food to eat. Rather than being ordinary things, they are in fact, extraordinary. Things we can rejoice in and be grateful for.

Perhaps that’s what Lao Tzu means when he said that when we realise there is nothing lacking that ‘the whole world belongs to you’. Out of a realisation that we have enough, anything becomes possible, we have the whole world at our feet, and we can afford to be generous with what we already have.

Fire or Light?

I used to run from difficult emotions. Discomfort, or anxiety, or sadness. I would avoid them all. For some reason I thought that if I sat in them and experienced what they were, I would be trapped and never get out. I didn’t want that. I wanted to be happy.

It took me a while and some challenging relationships to discover that this is no way to live. I found myself in a place where I wanted to face those emotions.

The first counsellor I saw told me that if you sit with a challenging emotion like the ones I was trying to avoid, they generally pass in around 45 minutes. I have no idea if that is true or not, but having an end time on it gave me the confidence to try it and I can confirm that I am a little better at sitting with those emotions now.

But it took a tough choice to begin that journey. I was caught in a place where I was in emotional turmoil, and I knew that if I didn’t do something it was likely I would end up in that place again somewhere down the road. I certainly didn’t want that, so I did the work.

As is often the case, when life gets hard, when it’s time to change, we generally only act because we feel the fire, or we see the light.

Or as an addiction specialist put it, “No one gets sober until being drunk is more painful than facing the thing you are running from”.

I’ve seen changes in others as they have intentionally become generous because they realised that staying stingy is more painful than giving something away. They felt the pain of relationships lost, or of the hold that money has over them, or the wrongs in the world that they were in a position to fix.

Whether it is because you feel the fire of what not giving will do, or you see the light of what is possible through your giving, generosity is much less painful than not being generous.

“What could I possibly do to change that?”

I have heard that question many times over the years as people look down the barrel of global or national events that have dramatically influenced our lives.

“Honestly, nothing.” I respond.

Then we sit in the despair that follows.

But I can’t stay there, because despair keeps you paralysed and I am a big believer in doing little things each day that build up over time. It’s those small acts which, done diligently and away from the limelight, end up making a big difference. They won’t end a war today. They won’t fix the environment today. They won’t even ensure that my kids will eat all their dinner tonight. But maybe tomorrow something might shift a little. Then a little more the next day. And the day after that.

Nic Cave said, “Even our smallest actions have potential for great change, positively or negatively…You are anything but impotent, you are, in fact, exquisitely and frighteningly dynamic…and…you have an obligation to stand up and take responsibility for that potential. It is your most ordinary and urgent duty.”

We don’t need to sit in despair at the enormity of the challenges that lay ahead. We have an obligation and a responsibility to act, to do what we can with what is in our control. There is purpose in that. It is also, innately generous.

You Should Auction That

The suggestion came in the middle of a special charity event. We had a signed book, featuring the amazing life story of the organisation’s founder, which I had planned to give away at the end of the night.

“You should auction the book.”

On the face of it, it seemed like a good idea. Get people to bid and create more of a buzz at the event, and raise a bucket load of money for the charity. It’s a win-win, right?

Here’s the thing though, events are terrible for fundraising.

Before you disagree outright, because you have attended one where hundreds of thousands of dollars are raised, hear me out.

They are terrible for three reasons:

  1. The big gala events that tout large amounts of attendees and funds raised, cost almost as much as they raise. At best, they cost half of what they bring in. A 50% fundraising ratio on an activity is not great.
  2. The money given at events is extremely transactional. It consists of the cost that people are willing to pay to be part of the experience and the cost that people are willing to pay to look like they are generous. Both are still generosity, but it is unlikely that those who attend and give will grow a deeper relationship with the organisation they are supporting. Often they are unaware of what the organisation does, or even who they are.
  3. For those that really do care about the organisation they are supporting, they would give anyway, event or not. What looks like a wonderful way to connect with supporters turns out to be an expensive way to ask someone to give who would do it in response to a face to face coffee, or phone call.

Of course there are other things that come from events, like awareness of the organisation and the way the people feel about it – events can create endless good vibes. But based on pure fundraising, they are terrible. They promote transactions, not generosity. Only quality relationships foster the type of long-term generosity that can really benefit charities.

We gave the book away as planned at the event and the recipient loved it – probably more than they would have if they ‘won’ it in an auction.

The Invisible Things

“It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.” Antoine de Saint-Exupéry – The Little Prince

If the essential things are invisible, does that mean that the things that are visible are unimportant? Or less important? That’s a tough sell today.

If true, it puts a great deal of life into a clearer perspective. Much of how we live our lives and express ourselves, by this measure, would be deemed unimportant.

The key question is what, then, is important?

I keep coming back to people. Not those who see us but those we truly see. The ones we interact with on a daily basis, that we care about, that we feed in to, that we love and nurture and journey with.

Then it is the people that we have loose connections with, how we treat those who make our coffee, or serve us lunch, or those trying to park in the parking space next to us.

Then it is the wider world around us. The people we will never meet who are impacted by how we live, the animals that call this planet their home too, and the planet that sustains our life, both of which we are inter-connected to.

These are the important things, the invisible things, the generous things. How we relate to them and our attitude towards them cannot be seen because it comes from within each of us.

The rest of life, the external stuff that people do see, is unimportant in comparison.

The Fruit of Being Generous

There are so many benefits to being generous.

Not just for the people receiving it, but for the person giving it too. And that’s okay. You’re allowed to experience good things as a result of choosing to be generous.

The catch is that generosity can’t be driven only by what you get back. The moment it becomes transactional, it stops being generosity and starts becoming something different, more of a calculation.

But when generosity is genuine, it begins to bear fruit.

Not always immediately. Not always in obvious ways. But over time, it becomes noticeable.

It shows up in your attitude. A lighter way of seeing people. Less cynicism. More patience than you used to have.

It shows up in your lifestyle. Less focused on holding tightly, more open-handed in how you live and relate to what you have.

And it shows up in your finances too. Not necessarily more or less money, but a different relationship with it. Less fear. Less grip. More clarity about what it’s for.

The strange thing about generosity is that it grows both outward and inward at the same time.

You give something away.

And somehow, you grow fruit for yourself.

I Thought I Was Wrong Once…

You’ve probably met someone who says: “I thought I was wrong once… but I was mistaken.”

Usually followed by laughter. It’s a little bit funny but occasionally you meet people who aren’t entirely joking when they say it.

They genuinely struggle to imagine that they could be wrong about something. It can happen to all of us at one time or another.

We like being right. We like winning arguments. We like certainty.
We like the feeling of standing on solid ground while someone else changes their mind.

But the reality is that we are all wrong about something. Failing to admit that or even to entertain the idea that it is possible is more about self-preservation than finding the truth.

Conflict happens all the time, and that’s not a bad thing, if it is done well. Generosity matters a great deal in our daily conflict.

Because generous conflict leaves room for the possibility that we may have missed something. Or misunderstood something. Or simply got it wrong.

Ungenerous conflict needs victory.

Generous conflict values the relationship more than the scoreboard.

That doesn’t mean pretending truth does not matter. It just means humility matters too.

Being able to say:
“You were right.”
Or even:
“You might be right.”
…is a deeply generous thing.

And if you happen to be right this time, rubbing it in rarely helps anyone.

Grace is important on both sides of the argument.

Just Be Here

It seems wild to me that this is a thing now. But putting your phone down is legitimately an act of generosity. And it probably needs to be more than just down, but away, somewhere out of sight. The mere presence of it makes the quality of conversation lower, even if you’re not looking at or touching your phone.

Companies pay billions of dollars to capture your attention, and instead, you are saying no to them and choosing to give it to just one person, for this moment right now. What a gift.

So, put it away for a bit. Give your full attention to someone else, or even yourself. This is a remarkable thing to offer.

It quietly says:
“You matter.”
“I’m listening.”
“I’d rather be here with you than somewhere else.”

Honestly, if someone said that out loud to me, I’d either feel deeply valued or incredibly uncomfortable. Maybe both, depending on the person. Such is the power of attention.

It doesn’t have to be an hour. Start with five minutes.

Ignore the desire to:

…check the notification.
…search the random fact.
…scroll to see what other people are eating.

Just be there.

Because in a distracted world, attention might be the most generous thing you have to give.

The Most Generous Person in the World

Who is the most generous person in the world?

It’s a hard question, with many ways to answer.

If we measure generosity by dollar amount, then the usual names come up. Bill Gates. Warren Buffett. Billionaires giving away billions.

Fair enough.

But the deeper you go into the question, the harder it becomes to answer.

If generosity is measured by percentage given away, then maybe Chuck Feeney belongs near the top. He spent much of his life quietly giving almost all his wealth away.

If generosity is measured by trust, then maybe MacKenzie Scott belongs near the top. She gives large amounts away quickly, and completely trusting the organisations to spend it wisely.

If generosity is measured in time, sacrifice and service to others, then you can’t go past Mother Teresa.

But maybe, some of the most generous people are not people you have heard of.

I think about the parents I know who quietly sacrifice opportunities for themselves so their kids can have them instead.

The friend who answers the phone late at night.

The person who notices someone sitting alone.

The co-worker who makes life easier for everyone else without needing recognition for it.

Tiny acts. Small moments.

Regular people making life a little better for those around them.

Most generosity never gets written about. But I suspect it’s the kind that holds the world together.

The Better Offer

“Thanks, but I got a better offer.”

I’m not sure I’ve heard too many people say that out loud, but certainly that is what they have meant when they let me know that they were unable to attend an event or gathering. Sometimes it is not communicated with words at all, just through them not turning up.

It can feel hard to commit to an event weeks in advance because who knows what else might come up in the meantime?

Sometimes your better offer is listening to your anxiety and staying home.

Sometimes your better offer is choosing one friend over another.

Sometimes your better offer is choosing something that serves you in that moment over what you have already committed to.

There is nothing inherently wrong with any of those choices, but they should be intentional, not habitual.

An underrated act of generosity is simply turning up to something you said you’d go to. Even if you might not feel like it in the moment.

It shows the person that invited that you care. That you respect them. That you recognise the effort it takes to organising something, and that it matters when people come.

And if you can’t make it, letting someone know matters too.

Because people want to be valued and that is often just as important as being there.