Facebook Publication Date: 2/16/2019 22:02

This is a crucial post.

It is a story that resonates with what and how we walk together on four fronts.

First, it confronts us in our need for top-down giving; on throwing whatever we feel is enough to a person we feel is less than worthy; in giving our castoffs, our spare change, the soup about to expire instead of our absolute best.

Second, it speaks to the reflexiveness of authentic sharing; the woman thought not for a second about packing her delicious dinner up; she didn’t replace the good roast for Spam; she didn’t put in a can of dented beans. She gave her best, what she would have eaten herself. We don’t know what she and her husband ate instead. Bologna sandwiches; maybe they themselves opened up the dented can of beans. But we do know she released what she was looking forward to for herself; whether it was a sandwich or the beans, the smell of the roast lingered in her kitchen. It cost her. She didn’t care.

Neither did she ‘size up’ the people in front of her for ‘worthiness’ or interrogated them to see if they were deserving or if their story checked out. She knew something deep: that their veracity–or lack of same–wasn’t her concern. That is huge, and so rarely seen.

Next, they didn’t stop there. They learned the story, saw the faces, and took risks on their behalf. Then they shared themselves with the little family by being loving caregivers so the mother could do the work she was called to do.

All of this is important, but this more than anything else: the woman was dark. And poor, or poor-ish; the cottage she lived in was scarcely larger than the mother and the daughter’s. The feast was very well a rarity. And still she shared; still she released.

So often, when we talk of giving, it is exactly the opposite of what happened here: it is remains, not first fruits; it is one off, not continuing, it is strategic, or at least given through judgmental narrowed eyes; it is top down and often given with contempt.

And it is better giving to lesser.

Which is why I have long resisted the words ‘giving’ or ‘donating’; the words are not wrong in and of themselves, but by now they all too often carry the whiff of the patronizing and the condescending; now the the words ‘sharing’ and ‘contributing’ feel better in my soul–although with all the words, it’s still all about internal motivation and intention.

Regardless of the words, how do we do this work? How much muscle memory–or in this case ‘soul memory’ have we developed and cultivated to make our lives this reflexive? How often do we give more than what is asked, and then continue the abiding?

What do you take from this piece?

And our new discipline holds: no likes or hearts without commentary. To get the benefit, we must flex the muscles.

https://medium.com/s/story/i-am-a-little-too-fat-im-a-little-too-generous-i-think-i-know-why-e97cd25b7eeb?fbclid=IwAR35YJPSWskKw-0GFN8v25ETxZwWpF1kfHnsxZcSEiv6MXsvcIAdscZ47JQ

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