Generosity

Photo of a woman at some sulphur baths with clay on her face

I started writing this piece back in April. Somehow it has never left me and I’m grateful to be finding the time today, to not only finish it, but to also allow the depth of what’s taken place this year sink in.

The generosity I have experienced this year has been unlike anything I have ever experienced before. I’m curious about it. Am I more open to the generosity of others? Am I more able to receive generosity in my life? Perhaps it’s simply that I’ve noticed it? Although I don’t think it’s that.

There’s been a depth to the generosity that I’ve experienced this year. Friends reaching out when I didn’t even know I needed them. People turning up with chocolate on a random night, just because. A beautiful delivery of pasta I didn’t expect. The generosity of my teacher and mentor Francis Weller. A friend who’s going through something unimaginable, and who finds the time to send my children some gifts and me a bar of chocolate. And it goes further, and more personal to share here.

The depth of generosity has moved me to my core. I feel humbled by it, in a way I cannot put into words. In a world where we’ve learnt to take, to hoard, where the sense of “not enoughness” is part of our makeup in Western society, the generosity I’ve experienced has truly blown me away.

It’s this sense of “not enoughness” that weaves its tendrils far and wide. It goes deep into our sense of belonging, our very foundations of who we are. Because generosity isn’t really about giving and receiving, it’s about how we feel inside. It’s about the hole we feel inside after years on not feeling enough. The world around us would always have us believe that we’re not enough. When we feel like we’re not enough, we’re searching, we want more and more. And whilst part of us, deep, deep, down, knows that we are enough, it’s hard to really let that in, to really feel it in a way that you truly know, where every part of you knows.

So perhaps generosity is about how we feel inside. The depth of acceptance and love towards the fallible human beings we are? Perhaps it’s more about being at ease with life and where we are? And our sense of belonging - rather than what we have or what we do?

The definition of generosity is “the quality of being kind and generous.” I love this, because this is what I’ve felt this year, “the quality”. It’s not really about how much we give or receive, it’s not about stuff (although it can be), it feels like it’s a way of being.

We can give without being generous. You may be able to feel that, when you’re given to without the quality of generosity. It feels different.

Life is so full of contradictions, of paradox. The paradox here is that we have to know in our bones that we are enough, and to an extent, have enough, for us to be able to give with that depth of generosity. But this sense of enough, will never come from more. In fact, the generosity I’ve experienced has come when I’ve had less in terms of the material, but somehow in bones and belonging there has been more.

I always want to be generous. I want to be generous with my time, my love, my friendship. I want to be generous in the way I do my work. I want to be generous with the land. I want to be generous in motherhood.

I feel grateful that this essence of generosity has shown up so beautifully and so unexpectedly this year.

I’ll finish, with where I started back in April, a story of an Italian man in the sulphur baths in Tuscany.

When I was Italy for In Essence Retreat we visited some Sulphur baths - the most glorious, smelly experience! It’s an integral part of our retreat, a moment to decompress and sit in the healing waters. Whilst we were there an Italian man started speaking to me, neither of us understanding each other, fortunately one of our beautiful participants was able to translate.

He had a jar full of clay, which he had put over his face, head and body. He was holding this jar with fondness, putting it in the water to heat it up and offering it up to everyone around him. He offered it to me, and my initial reaction was apprehension. Should I take this? Am I being polite? But I took the jar and I smelled the clay, it was wonderful, full of eucalyptus and patchouli.

His generosity moved me. He didn’t want anything in return. His giving bought him so much joy, I could see it in his eyes. He literally lit up. The jar went round us all, everyone on our retreat, and back to him. And then when this face mask had dried he offered us all more. He wasn’t worried if this beautiful clay mixture ran out, he offered it out with such a generous heart.

I was curious about the apprehension I felt initially, was it OK to take it? Do I need to give something back in return? Do you notice how when we receive something, we feel we have to give something back. It can almost feel like a burden, and so we don’t allow ourselves to receive. We say no, in fear of having to give what we may not have. And this is it, this speaks to the essence of not enough. We’re often depleted, we don’t have enough, not in energy, in love, in community or belonging.

We have enough of the material but this does not appease any sense of “not enough”. It comes from the very things we’re usually devoid off in this society - community, belonging, connection, family, love, nature. Our sense of enough will never come from money, from clothes or chocolate. It can only come from love and connection. From community and belonging.

It was so beautiful to watch this man. How open he was to having a conversation with another human being who couldn’t even speak his language. He was there making connections, feeling so full in himself that he could open up to those around him. It was so very beautiful.

I’m grateful to this man, who will be in Italy somewhere now, going about his life, never knowing these words are on this page (I love this). He showed me something that day, something that shifted something in me, something that has somehow set the tone for my year.

I am deeply grateful, and I’ll say it again, deeply moved by the generosity I’ve experienced this year. Thank you.

As an act of generosity, of passing this forward, I’m offering The Quiet Place for free for the month of October. If you’re curious about The Quiet Place come and join us. It’s the place where we’re fostering community, connection and belonging.