As we enter the holiday season, ‘giving thanks’ is a common phrase. During this time, I actively seek opportunities to live this theme in different ways, including actively donating to fundraisers or volunteering.
But after attending a recent lecture, I began to look at my giving activities more closely, wondering if my efforts are out of sincerity – or – out of ease and self gratification.
The question came up one afternoon after hearing a story from the Katha Upanishad, a book of ancient Indian scriptures. In it, the protagonist, Natchiketa, a truth-seeking, school-aged boy watched as his cowherding father participated in a ritual where he was to make a donation (to the priests) as part of an offering. Instead of giving his prize-winning, milk producing cows, he donated his old, barren cows. From my understanding, Natchiketa questioned his father about this choice, which led to the son’s banishment from his home to that of Yama, the god of death. The bulk of the book explores the dialogue between the two on the nature of life and death and what to seek in spiritual knowledge.
While the messages on the ultimate reality of life and death went over my head, the discussion about the giving activities of Natchiketa’s father did not.
The priest who led the talk spent time elaborating on the seemingly trivial nature of the father’s action. That had prized cows been given in good faith, which required a hardship on the father’s part, it would have fulfilled the yajna, or ritual, and the book would have been done.
But in the father donating the unwanted cows from his herd, the ritual was not fulfilled because there was no sacrifice. It was easy and insincere.
I thought about this lesson in relation to my charitable efforts. Sure, donating unused (and unexpired) items in my kitchen cabinet for a food drive is considered giving. Yet, this act serves me in that my cabinets are cleared and my value of not wasting food is upheld. Same with my donation of used clothing or toys.
When I give funds to charity, I often give a standard amount or something that I wouldn’t miss in my bank account. I don’t usually give something that is of more impact.
Five dollars is easy. Fifty is harder.
In examining the ways I give and volunteer, I noticed that, sure, I am doing good deeds that benefit others. But, in my choices, there is more to give.
The ways I participate are also usually convenient and mutually beneficial, even if the benefits are small. I almost always receive something from my charitable actions whether it is an instagram picture or a thank you gift. In most cases, I am not sacrificing in any way. I am giving, easily.
I am not suggesting giving amounts equal to a mortgage payment this season nor making tradeoffs that will negatively impact our lives. Instead, can we reflect on the sincerity of our giving in that we are giving in a manner that is not driven wholly by convenience or a reciprocal benefit?
For me, I am looking at ways where I can give with more of a leap, whether it is my time, money or talent. That could be taking the time (of extremely high value) to drive to the store to buy a new toy, wrap it and donate it to a toy drive instead of simply looking for a place to give my old things away. It could mean sponsorship of a family and fulfilling their wishlist or giving a larger amount to a charity – instead of dropping a $10 bill in a Salvation Army tin and receiving a warm smile in return from the bellringer and positive looks from the passersby.
This season, I want to take myself out of the giving equation and give in a way that is more focused on helping or benefiting others. In this expanded view, I can also give to friends and family in a new way, too.
And perhaps it is not an all or nothing? I am sure I will still look for organizations where I can donate my kids items while seeing how it feels to write a slightly larger check, focusing on the impact of others, unconnected to me.
This season, I want to lean into giving without getting.
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Giving without getting


