Who is Charitable

All by itself, true sharing can transform the world. This refers not only to the sharing of physical objects, but especially to the sharing of wisdom and the Creator’s Light
— Michael Berg, The Way (154)

Fundraising is an interesting profession because it requires you to take a meaningful cause and convince others to invest their time and resources into it. Unlike the sales industry that relies on persuading the buyer they absolutely need something (though they may not), fundraising highlights the needs of the "other," suggesting to the potential donor that they should live more selflessly. This can be incredibly challenging, as you can imagine, because inevitably fundraisers want donors to be motivated by their charitable nature yet many strategies employed in fundraising involve extrinsic motivation, which can boost the ego and reduce true charity. How can sharing become our default action in all situations?

If you can look at these faces without feeling the need to adopt them all, an animal shelter, like PAWS Chicago, is a great place to volunteer.

Before responding, Berg points out a key aspect to consider: "the highest form of charity occurs when the identities of the giver and the recipient are not known to each other...never expect reward or recognition for giving charity" (163). To examine my own charity, it will be important to reference a few instances of giving; however, in doing so, I am not seeking recognition. Instead, I am interested in better understanding the selfishness that pulls me away from truly sharing. As an only child, sharing has always been a rather difficult concept for me to grasp as I typically received what I wanted most---attention, recognition, and love---and I received them without opposition or competition.

When I didn't/don't receive these, all hell broke/breaks loose: "Whenever a feeling seems overwhelming, whenever a desire feels utterly irresistible, whenever saying 'Stop!' or 'No!' seems wholly impossible, you can almost be certain it's an expression of the negative side of our nature" (Berg 155). CHICO's selfishness and fears stand in the way of my charitable nature, resulting in a separation from joy and the light. Let's take a look at a few examples:

  • A Walk to Remember: Last September, I happened to strike up conversation with a homeless man, Robert, on my way to work. After a series of nods and brief salutations, we started to chat a few mornings each week about the Cubs, Chicago, and whatever else crossed our minds. Simultaneously, I was bringing a bag of groceries to the spot Robert slept each week while he was gone (I didn't want him to know it was me). At first, this brought incredible sensations of Joy, and I was inspired by Robert and his positive attitude; however, I felt cruel not inviting Robert to watch the World Series games or offer a fresh cooked meal or shower. The resulting doubt and guilt unleashed in my head (by CHICO) caused me to pull away, and soon, Robert had left for the winter, and I was left with conflicting emotions after finding excuses to avoid him for several weeks. Berg discusses the need for charity to go beyond money---to really interact---with those in need (154). Even if I had not provided Robert with everything, the continued conversation and kindness would have taught me a great deal more about resilience, humility, and joy. Maybe it made a difference to him too?

  • Into the Wild: While engrossed in Beyond Words by Carl Safina, I visited The David Sheldrick Wildlife Trust website and adopted two elephants, a rhino and a giraffe (Ngilai, Quanza. Maxwell, and Kiko, respectively). Again, rush of joy then..receipt confirmation. Understanding that they cannot transport all donors to see their adopted family, the organization sends monthly "keeper's notes" chronicling how each individual is getting along. After reading about my adopted family's adventures one month, an idea struck to create a short story series for my friends' children based on these notes. I introduced the children to my adopted family via self-created postcards, but then made no forward progress. Why would I stop short of doing something that would connect me better to my passion, my adopted family (all species), and (in a moment of realization while writing) a key piece of my destiny? CHICO, or that voice inside, questioned my ability, resources, and time to put into "such a project." As a result, I blocked myself from experiencing more joy through giving.

  • No Good Deed: It may sound like I'm being overly critical of myself in these first two examples as certainly some effort was made to be charitable; however, as Berg mentions, we must "ruthlessly seek out selfish desire wherever it may be hidden in our souls, and to make ourselves totally unforgiving of it. These are essential qualities of a sharing person" (155). I fast forward to this past weekend when I was volunteering at Pride Fest collecting entrance donations. Now, I should preface by saying I have only paid the suggested donation a couple of times when entering a street fest. You gain a lot of perspective while on the other side of the donation box. The vast majority of those you encounter are "passing through," "live right there," or "are stopping at a friends." While I realize this was the reality for some, the lack of charity was disappointing and frustrating. Threats came, arguments were had, and I found myself becoming angry even though I am complacent in my own selfishness and have no right to judge others for their lack of sharing.

Clearly, I am still learning how to silence CHICO in order to fully connect with the light through sharing, but the best way to learn is by practicing: "[g]iving should become a habit or even a reflex rather than a special occasion or an extraordinary departure from your normal routine" (Berg 162). So I turn to you:

  • What charity do you practice daily?

  • How does this sharing connect you to joy?

  • How does selfishness stand in your way?

Give a little bit,

Who (?)

Cover photo courtesy of Ania Ptasznik; Ngilai/Kiko/Quanza/Maxwell (left to right) photos courtesy of The David Sheldrick Wildlife Trust