We had a heat pump installed this week. Yesterday, the temperatures having reached 101F in my town, our patio hot enough to blister the soles of our feet, I felt the house starting to cool. Having lived my whole life where I got as hot as my world, this feels quite odd.
Good, in that I no longer have to run through the house opening and closing doors and windows to capture as much cool air as possible, and I no longer worry that I have to shelter in our local library if the heat wave extends even one more day. But odd, not to feel in my being what the Earth is doing right now. Let me temper this. Of course I’ve had heat all these years. But heat has been possible since we first domesticated fire. Cooling feels quite advanced.
I will say, it makes it much easier for me to feel grateful. This morning, I’m grateful for my white hybrid tea rose, Honor, it’s called, in its second or third bloom of the summer often calls pink from its roots.
Which reminds me of something someone said to me in the group of other peer grief counselors I meet with regularly–when you suffer an irreplaceable loss, although it never goes away you can look for other paths of purpose and comfort. Gratitude, for one. I think we know this, and even if I don’t know it I wrote this post anyway.
But it’s a lot easier to feel gratitude when you’re not-metaphorically or literally-overheating.
The other thing this wise woman reminded me of is the role of generosity. Not from others to us, although that’s needed, but from us to others.
In my newly cool house, I’m wondering, what then is generosity? Simply the act of giving? I don’t think so. If someone a) has more resources than they know what to do with, and b) makes themself feel big by giving things away, is that generous? Doesn’t feel like it.
Let’s deconstruct that sentence. We’re talking about a) whether someone’s gifts are easy to part with and b) whether they’re giving for their own reasons or altruistically. Now I have to let those parameters rattle around like marbles in a maze for a minute. Hold on. I’ll go deadhead the roses.
OK. Marbles are falling out. Let’s start with b). I think people can be generous without being selfless. Sainthood is too high of a benchmark. All us imperfect beings can be generous. It’s a) that’s the crux. Real generosity means the giving has to require an effort, maybe even hardship. To be generous, some part of you has to groan a little bit inside: I don’t want to spend the day with this person who needs me; I don’t want to donate that $75 because I want to buy a new shirt; I don’t want to forgive her, I want to let the fury I’m holding onto singe the room we stand in.
One last question. Does the definition of generosity require the person we are giving to like what we give them? Nah. I don’t think so. Gotta leave room for mistakes. You just have to give some of your capacity for work–intellectual, emotional or physical labor. A very Sturdy Gal concept, for those of you who’ve been here since early on.
Maybe in the end generosity is largely all of us collectively muddling about trying to give each other what we need, for whatever reasons, rather than hoarding abundance for ourselves. Cooling down helps.
Generosity with room for roses.
Have a wonderful weekend.
19 Responses
I love reading your parsing of these ideas. Recently listened to a podcast – Krista Tippet in conversation with Ross Gay about his Book of Delights and I feel like there is an intersection between delight and generosity. And somewhere in there the other g – gratitude. Lovely read to get my Saturday started. Also experienced a new coolness when we moved to Tucson and replaced an ancient a/c unit and suddenly the “family room” was a place we all wanted to be. I hear you, though, about the warming Bay Area and how remarkable it is that the air outside, which has always been enough, no longer is. Which leads to yet another g – grief – for our warming planet.
Thank you. I love the idea of an intersection between delight and generosity, and I want to consider it. It is a grief, for our planet, for the lives many of us believe we’ve lost, and I can only hope devoutly that we find these paths forward.
I love this post. I used to not care so much about air conditioning. But now I live in Tennessee, and I could not live here without it. I’ve tried to rationalize it — I rarely ever need to use heat. But I also accept that I am profoundly grateful that I have air conditioning and I have the privilege of being able to use it.
I love what you said — ” to be generous, some part of you has to groan a little bit inside”. That seems so true, and also so true that this kind of generosity, true generosity perhaps, brings with it unexpected warmth and joys, perhaps greater joys even than are brought by having enough, or more than enough. Even as I sit in my cool library, I’m not sure we are truly meant for ease. I’m not saying anyone should suffer terrible hardship or loss, but without a bit of struggle, how can we know what generosity even means? There is so much to grieve for, and yet if we can all offer even small bits of generosity, I want to feel like we can all heal.
“true generosity perhaps, brings with it unexpected warmth and joys, perhaps greater joys even than are brought by having enough, or more than enough…” Having enough may be indispensable, but more than enough, I couldn’t agree more. I don’t know that we are truly meant for ease, unless we have something important to do with it, at which point it ceases a little bit to be ease, right?
“to be generous, some part of you has to groan a little bit inside”
Do you groan a little bit every Saturday morning when you give us these beautifully-thought-out, carefully-written essays? Is it 15 years now, we’ve awakened each Saturday knowing there’s a little gift from you waiting in our mailbox? Do you not recognize your own Generosity in this effort? This is my definition of Generosity: your blog. And I am grateful to you for the gift that you have given us all these years.
I am so happy for you and your new cool house. I see all kinds of science online now re how heat affects ….. well, senior citizens. My husband was born cold, and I was born hot, so we experience thermostat concessions [generosity!] now and again.
Thank you, Lisa.
You are so welcome, and you saying this makes a difference for me. Yes, in fact, writing this I thought, is it a generous act to sustain this blog? And truth be told, some days I do groan. Probably those days I don’t write such a good post. But the generosity is to be Sturdy and keep going because in the end people have said it helps them, and in the end, I know it helps me too. Thank you.
Flo – yes! Thank you Lisa! So, so generous to us, your grateful and delighted readers.
:)
“But heat has been possible since we first domesticated fire. Cooling feels quite advanced.” This was a revelation for me — and obvious once you pointed it out! So happy for your increased comfort, and so globally sorry that conditions have changed to the point it’s needed.
I’m comfortable with some aspect of self-gratification being a part of generosity, though perhaps the degree is what marks the difference between generosity and (organized) charity. A society that didn’t need charity would be wonderful. This is actually very selfish of me. I want, for myself, a world in which people have their basic needs met.
That groaning component of generosity also makes sense. It connects the act with a bit of a tug that we’re willing to eat because we see someone else’s need is more important. It’s some form of existential pruning.
Thank you for another lovely, thought-provoking post.
“A society that didn’t need charity would be wonderful.” The older I get the more strongly I feel this. And existential pruning. It’s that moment where you have to reach to give, and in so doing relinquish something else. You are welcome. I am a fortunate woman to have you willing and able to read my thinking.
I don’t know that you have to groan a little inside for an act to be generous. Maybe all you need is for the impulse to be based on considering someone else’s well-being rather than your own. It doesn’t have to be distasteful, just centered on the other person instead of yourself.
This exactly what I had to go deadhead roses and think about. I came down in the end on the other side of the fulcrum than you, but with no expertise at all, it just felt right. And in the existential end, my parsing doesn’t matter as long as the deeds are done and the abundance given out.
I love your ruminations and the way they spark me to think further. Also appreciate your thoughtful commenters. I walked the dog today and considered kindness vs. generosity, whether you have to groan a little, what about delight, have I reached a too complacent plateau on the value of gratitude, back to generosity etc. Worth thinking about and a relief from politics. Then as I weeded I listened to the Krista Tippet and Ross Gay conversation mentioned by Jacqueline. These were not in my plans for the afternoon, but all enriched it. Thank you.
You are welcome. Thank you for the real generosity of admitting me, and the other commenters here, into your day and your thoughts. I agree, that’s the distinction I’m trying to parse, does generosity differ from kindness, and if so, how?
To let you know it’s now Wednesday, and I’m still gnawing on this: “does generosity differ from kindness, and if so, how?”
I am a big fan of generosity. There is a sense of abundance on offer – actual or figurative – and the idea of extending goodwill to others. Generosity of thought is something I can struggle with but I am learning to practise it over reflex-action denigration when faced with idiocies/atrocities. I have often thought generosity should be one of the seven virtues.
I *think* – I could be wrong, but I think – that generosity of the tugging-it-out-of-oneself kind, when practiced long enough and fervently enough and thoroughly enough, results in a reduction of the tug.
Basically, when the (often originally giant) gap starts to shrink, between 1. how much we care about *us* having everything we want and 2. how much we care about *others* having enough, I *think* we will not be less generous, but the act of generosity will require less internal work each time. When we love our neighbors better, instead of having to make an enormous effort to occasionally bridge (or perhaps pole-vault) the gap between knowing we ought to love our neighbors and our internal realities, then we will in fact be more generous, but it’ll also take less wrestling to enact any given specific bit of generosity. (… we’ll probably have new things that we realize are necessary to be consistent with loving our neighbors! and those larger weights might be just as hard to pole-vault across a smaller distance as something much smaller was to haul over the larger distance! but I think that how hard it is to heft small sacrifices can change with time and effort and probably divine assistance)
But also the story of how the gifts from all the rich – those who were giving from their surplus – being a smaller gift than the gift of the widow who gave the two small coins that were all she had to live on – says something about sacrifice/generosity as well. (do I wish the story also included whether that was a *good idea* to do rather than just generally commending the level of generosity? Yes. But it doesn’t address the question of practicality vs. trust, but only comments on how the last dollar you have to buy food with is bigger, as a gift, than someone else’s spare million.)
I’m 100% with you on giving to feel like a Big Deal being less generous, though. And also greatly appreciate your thoughts as shared on this blog; I assume sometimes the act of writing is its own reward, and sometimes the positive feedback also provides reward, but also you *do* seem to care about people through this blog, and are sometimes willing to help them even if it might be awkward for you (the post on how to (and whether you can) wear *something* that is from a non-WASP culture without blocking your path up the WASP work ladder, for instance), and at very least *some* of it would be generosity? And, conveniently, we benefit from all of it. :-)
I appreciate your thoughtful commentary..Thank you for your generosity of thoughts and words!
I’m very glad you finally relented so your home can be cool. Maybe this is simplistic, but it’s new to me. I find that when I’m generous with myself, which mostly takes the form of saying “no” to doing things I don’t want to do, I have more genuine generosity towards others. I don’t feel depleted (as an introvert this can easily happen). Does this make any sense?
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