getting through giving
(Raising Generosity—Dāna)
Imagine a two-year-old walking up to you. She has something in her hands that she wants to share with you—perhaps a toy or another treasure. We all know the look on her face and the utter delight of freely offering something—her glowing desire to share her joy. What response does this picture provoke as you imagine it in mind and body? Maybe you find yourself smiling as you bring the image to mind. Now think of this same two-year-old, but this time she wants something from you. I mean, she really wants something—say, that stuffed tiger from the advertisement or that chocolate bar from the checkout aisle—but she can’t have it. Visualize her response—stomping rage, screaming, inconsolable tears. What’s your response now?
Even from a young age, humans are simple. When we act with generosity, we and those around us are happy; when we act with craving and selfishness, we all end up miserable. Yet even when we all know this to be true, it can be so hard to put generosity into practice.
Our children might always struggle with sharing. For that matter, we might always struggle with sharing. It doesn’t matter—we’re all capable of more when we water the seeds of generosity with which we are born. We can actually cultivate the innate generosity in children’s brains (and in our brains) by encouraging the neurons of generosity to grow, while pruning the neurons of greed, just as in a garden. Like all natural things, those seeds of generosity (which are there from birth) need attention to grow and blossom. In fact, the instinct to share with parents is one of the first markers of social development. We’re wired to be generous. What’s more, science (as well as the cliché) suggests we feel more joy in giving than in receiving.1
Greed and yearning are clearly painful, and most spiritual traditions advise against the dangers of craving and coveting. In fact, neuroscience now tells us that wanting and jealousy light up the same receptors in our brains that are stimulated when we experience physical pain.2 This makes intuitive sense, but think back to the two-year-old. How does it feel to be that child who absolutely needs the chocolate bar right now?
If generosity feels so good, why do we need help to encourage it? Our genetic blueprint has been evolving for millions of years—nature tells us to want and hoard more than we need in order to survive. What’s more, our culture bombards our families with messages that getting that thing will make us happy. Even our politicians prescribe retail therapy for emotional pain. George W. Bush famously encouraged Americans to go to Disney World and go shopping after the tragedies of 9/11.3 All of these messages run counter to the spiritual wisdom and scientific findings that show that health and happiness come more through giving than through getting.
Our culture and our economic system encourage unlimited desires in a world of limited resources, when what we need is something entirely different—to reduce our consumption in order to live in harmony and compassion with others and the planet. No wonder philosophers and spiritual leaders are often considered rebels in their time—they are existential threats to the systems in which they live. Imagine our families receiving just as many messages urging us to give as messages to get. Imagine people camping outside stores for days just for the opportunity to donate to a brand new charity. The consumerism that drives our economy will not change overnight, but we can start changing ourselves today.
Spiritual beliefs from around the world place a value on generosity. Buddhism offers one system to codify generosity as a practice of liberation. Judaism emphasizes service for others. In Christian theology, charity (caritas) is considered the greatest of virtues. Hinduism, Islam, Jainism, and the Sikh faith all stress the importance of almsgiving, and indigenous traditions across the globe emphasize generosity and community sharing.
But what does generosity really mean? Much of Eastern wisdom describes dāna as unconditional giving within our means. Western traditions, too, teach the importance of giving without expectation of gratitude or being paid back, praising anonymity in giving. For example, the Jewish concept of tzedakah refers to right and just actions—specifically, donating to others anonymously and offering gifts that promote self-reliance. We should aspire to give without expecting appreciation and applause—something we are particularly unlikely to get as parents.
This idea of generosity also holds true for us, as parents. It means parenting our children how we would want to be parented, speaking to their teachers how we would want them to speak to our child, and driving how we want others to drive when we have our newborn or aging parent in the back seat. It means neither reenacting the imperfect parenting we received nor reacting, rebelling, or rejecting that parenting altogether and spoiling our children. But how do we find the middle path between generosity and obligation, between giving and indulging? We give so much as parents that it’s often difficult to discern the difference. Personally, I find it helpful to check in with my intention: am I offering this gift to teach my child, or am I merely trying to get him to stop whining in the checkout line? Most often the answer lies somewhere in between.
reflection How can you tell the difference between true generosity and the kind of giving that isn’t helpful? Do you know when you are being generous as opposed to spoiling, feeling obligated, feeling pressure, or even giving more than you can afford, whether financially or emotionally?
As we give, our sense of generosity grows stronger, making us more likely to give, and that spreads to those around us like ripples in a pond. Regardless of how you describe this effect (karma, neuroscience, or social psychology), it’s a simple matter of cause and effect that you can actually see working in yourself, your family, and the world.
I remember rolling my teenage eyes at a Driver’s Ed movie lecturing us that “courtesy is contagious.” I rolled my eyes as a jaded adolescent, but it turns out that “social contagions” are real. Ivy League researchers James Fowler and Nicholas Christakis found that acts of kindness and generosity actually do spread from one person to the next. In numerous studies, they demonstrated that merely observing acts of generosity could inspire a ripple effect of “downstream reciprocity” in others up to three degrees of separation.4 It isn’t just that letting a car merge in front of you in traffic will increase the likelihood that the driver will later hold the elevator for someone at the office (and then that next person will be more likely to grab doughnuts for the kids on the way home, who will cuddle with the dog, and so on). Christakis and Fowler also found that just witnessing such generosity releases the brain’s feel-good chemicals and inspires generosity in others.
Let’s look at the biochemistry. Research shows that we get boosts of serotonin (the hormone that regulates mood and anxiety), oxytocin (the “love hormone”), and dopamine (a feel-good neurotransmitter) when we give and when we receive. The implications suggest that generosity on either end regulates mood and anxiety and strengthens our immune system; it makes us feel loving and loved. We also feel good when we grab our officemate a coffee (getting what my friend Fiona calls “the boy scout buzz”), because we’re activating the parts of our brains associated with connection and trust.5 We also experience an elevation of oxytocin for a few hours, which makes us feel all warm and fuzzy.6 Oxytocin also blocks cortisol, a stress hormone that has been shown to disrupt growth in children.
All of this means that giving or receiving makes us less likely to snap at our kids, who in turn are less likely to take it out on each other, their classmates, or the family dog. Researchers observe the same endorphins in both the giver and receiver of a gift, though they see a greater amount in the giver.7 Yet another study asked research subjects to spend five dollars either on themselves or on someone else.8 To the surprise of the researchers and the subjects, those who gave away the five dollars felt better than those who kept the money. Neuroscientist Richard Davidson has spent years researching contemplative practice in Tibetan monks and others. His conclusion? “The best way to activate positive-emotion circuits in the brain is through generosity.”9
Of course, science and spirituality have their own explanations for the benefits of generosity. The simplest explanation of karma I’ve heard is that each action we take makes it more likely that we’ll perform that same action in the future. Just as we now know that our acts of kindness make us more likely to be generous tomorrow, the opposite is also true: acting in a selfish way today wires us for selfishness tomorrow. However, acting generously also benefits us on a fundamental level: as the more evolved outer cortices of the brain activate and begin to grow, our primitive amygdala calms down (and even shrinks), our heart beats more regularly, our breath flows more evenly, and our blood pressure goes down.
And then there are the long-term benefits of generosity to our well-being and that of our families. There is an old neuroscience adage: “Neurons that fire together, wire together.” Each generous action we take rewires the brain for happiness and resilience, one good deed at a time. Positive psychologist Sonja Lyubomirsky found that five generous acts a day can enhance your mood for up to a week.10 Donating to charity once a month adds as much happiness as a 200 percent raise, and countries with higher levels of charity have higher levels of happiness.11 Generosity also builds trust between people. It might be common sense that the recipient of generosity feels more trust, but studies also show that the giver’s brain regions associated with trust and connection light up,12 fostering optimism, reducing depression, and creating healthy attachments.13
Generosity means action, not abstract platitudes. As researchers have illustrated on psychotherapies of the past, we cannot think our way into a new way of acting; we have to act our way into a new way of thinking. This is how our families can become the change we wish to see in the world. If we act generously, the world around us becomes a better place; if we act greedily, it doesn’t. Thus, what some call karma may be as simple as science. The Buddhist notion of “as we think and act, so our world becomes” resonates easily with the scientific concept of “neurons that fire together, wire together.”
The Importance of Intention
Spiritual traditions don’t just place a high value on generous actions; they also focus on the intentions behind generosity—the why of our giving. When it comes to generosity, our intention makes all the difference. Sometimes we give for a specific reason—we write thank-you notes and bring gifts to parties, for example. These kinds of gifts help us feel satisfied and teach our kids about social reciprocity.
But sometimes we give with more of an agenda than agreed-upon social graces, as when we expect something back. The lobbyist who provides thousands of dollars in gifts to a politician is looking for a return on his investment. The university benefactor who donates millions likely expects admission for her grandchildren. A parent might offer a son twenty-five dollars for every A he gets. However, as we’ll see later, using bribery to change a child’s behavior is only buying temporary change and possibly long-term problems.
The more we give with an agenda, the less genuine happiness we can expect for both the giver and the receiver. First of all, when we expect something in return for a gift, we are more likely to become resentful when we don’t get it, hurting ourselves and the recipient. Second, acting generously without expecting something in return is what actually triggers the feel-good neurotransmitters. So we always need to look at our intentions. They may be mixed to some extent, but that’s okay. If we do things only so others will notice how generous we are or to maintain our identity as generous, or if we expect something in return, the benefits won’t materialize on the neurochemical, material, or spiritual level.
When I was in second grade, there was a boy—let’s call him Tim—who wanted to be friends with me. During lunch, Tim would offer to trade his cookies for my carrot sticks (quite a bargain in my seven-year-old mind). But when my parents found out about this exchange (in addition to their horror at the junk food), they asked me to reflect on whether the trade was really fair. I knew in my heart it didn’t feel right. Tim wanted my friendship, and I wanted his cookies, but I didn’t really want to be friends with him, and I doubt that he really wanted those carrots.
How do we give to our children? Are there strings attached? It’s not that expectations behind gifts are necessarily a problem—paying for college and expecting our child to study is not unreasonable, for example. However, if we are giving with an agenda, it makes all the difference to be up front and honest about it with ourselves and others—especially our children.
Types of Generosity
Some Eastern philosophy breaks generosity into three categories: gifts of material and wealth, gifts of protection and support, and gifts of wisdom. Ideally, we give what we can, and we give the best of what we have: the best material, the best support, and the best wisdom. But the idea isn’t to give so much that we cause suffering to ourselves or our family. Give what you can, give what feels right, and then give just a little more. It’s like lifting weights or running—we push ourselves in order to meet our goals, but we’re careful not to overdo it.
reflection What are some ways you already practice generosity? What are other ways of giving you can try for you and your family?
Gifts of Material and Wealth
Share the wealth, as the saying goes. Material wealth takes various forms—money, gifts, time, and even our bodies (as every mother knows). Even if we’re not objectively wealthy, we all have something to give—small amounts of cash, a helping hand to those in need, or volunteering our time. When I was younger, I had little money to offer, but I had plenty of time, physical strength, and energy to give.
We might donate our old things to charity or to friends in need. We also benefit from this by simplifying our lives and decreasing waste of money and stuff. When my wife and I had our first child, we were nearly overwhelmed with the generosity of hand-me-downs from friends and strangers. While they may have been just as thrilled to clear out their basements, there was something magical about being welcomed into this new parent-sharing economy. Gifts took all forms—including itchy and ill-fitting baby clothes, unwanted advice, and soggy green bean casseroles—but they all brought joy to us and meaning to the givers. And as our children get older, we can join the cycle of generosity in a different way by showing our children how to part with old toys and clothes, thereby experiencing the joy of sharing. As they grow up, the stories of the generosity they received when they were young will help shape their outlook on the world and the power of sharing.14 As we were given, so too we give.
We can also offer the material and wealth of our bodies. Mothers sacrifice their energy and bodies through pregnancy, the birthing process, and breastfeeding. For kids, generosity might mean lending young muscles to carry an aging neighbor’s groceries or helping a friend in a pinch. With our bodies we can also give affection through hugs and gentle touch. Even if our bodies don’t quite work like they once did, we can all give something.
When you make that gift list for the holidays, consider offering experiences instead of things. Research shows that experiences do more for our happiness and our relationships than objects do.15 This type of generosity could mean tickets to a show or museum, an art class, or even a vacation. We can also encourage sharing and compassion by giving our children gifts to share, which has the added benefit of the family ending up with less stuff.
reflection Consider all the gifts your family has been offered over the years—and even over generations. Which of these stories might you share with your children? What are some ways you can add experiences and activities as gifts, in addition to toys?
Gifts of Protection and Support
The second category of generosity refers to protecting others from physical danger or emotional distress. All of us know the sacrifices we’d make if our child were in danger. The same altruistic drive to protect others drives firefighters and psychotherapists, soldiers and social workers, cops and teachers, doctors and nurses, and activists of all stripes. But we don’t need to change careers to offer such gifts. We can simply offer an ear to a distraught friend or a shoulder to cry on, smile at a stranger who looks a little down, and teach our children to do the same.
For the longest time, I thought generosity meant dropping change into the hands of a beggar, writing a check to charity, or doing something like helping at a soup kitchen. But when I considered this, I realized these stereotypical “giving” gestures weren’t necessarily the best of what I had to offer—they weren’t what would make the biggest impact. Maybe your hard-earned professional and life experiences are best offered through pro bono consulting to those in need, mentoring a young colleague, or helping out a new parent. The best of what you have might mean sharing your high school basketball skills by coaching your child’s team, offering to teach about your job in a classroom, or helping your kid’s friends or friend’s kids who are struggling.
For me, the best gift of support is a lot like the gift of presence. In my work as a therapist, I share my presence. The work of the therapist is often thought of as giving emotional support and safety. It is that, and yet it’s much simpler than that. The work of therapists is to share their most authentic, mindful, and compassionate presence to their clients. This gift provides most of the healing. Where else can someone who is sharing from their heart get an uninterrupted hour of absolute attention (on my best days, of course)? When parents are away on business trips or at the gym, teachers are paying attention to other kids, or friends are distracted with drinking, drugs, or digital distractions, kids in therapy (like most kids) long for authentic human connection. So the best I have to offer is compassionate presence, and this makes all the difference when it comes to “success” in therapy. But you don’t have to be a therapist to give your presence.
Thich Nhat Hanh suggested that the most precious gift we can offer is our presence: “When mindfulness embraces those we love, they will bloom like flowers.”16 He told a story of a busy, wealthy father who asks what his son wants most for his birthday. The father says, “I can buy you anything in the world, my son.” The son responds, “I just want you, Daddy.” The best of what we have to give is often simply our presence—and that means our best presence, not that partial, one-eye-on-the-phone type of attention.
We all are capable of giving our full presence and attention to the people around us. But this can be a tall order in a culture that tells us to give everything to our jobs and our things (particularly our phones), rather than giving our attention to the people we are with. This attention to others means our loved ones, of course, but also strangers in the checkout line or the airplane seat next to us. Of course, the middle path reminds us to give what we can afford. If we don’t have time to offer ourselves fully, perhaps that’s a sign we should find a way to make time or simply ask for it.
Thich Nhat Hanh also reminds us that sometimes we support those we love by giving them space and time, especially after a conflict. This space offers everyone a chance to heal and grow. In the Zen art of flower arranging, the space that surrounds the flowers is what makes them beautiful. Our children too need space around them to blossom.
Generosity of spirit is another form of support. We can give the benefit of the doubt to a rude stranger who cuts the line, the kid who challenged our own on the playground, or that difficult parent at the parent-teacher organization. If we remember that generosity is the best medicine for anger and resentment toward others, it will help when we have to deal with difficult children, partners, or strangers driving us crazy. Jeff, a client of mine, felt locked in conflict with his daughter. He could see she needed help, but he felt that giving it to her meant surrendering. So we reframed his support as something he was giving to his daughter rather than a form of giving in. This simple reframe appealed to his best self. Often the people frustrating us are the ones who need our support the most, and they in turn give us opportunities to practice being our best selves through generosity and other values.
reflection How can you foster the generosity of care and the generosity of spirit in yourself and your family?
Gifts of Wisdom
Perhaps the highest form of generosity is wisdom, which itself gives freedom. You’ve probably heard the old maxim: “Give someone a fish and you’ll feed them for a day; teach them to fish and you’ll feed them for a lifetime.” This is the gift of wisdom, which we also cultivate in chapter 4. For example, we can use up our energy doing everything for our kids (cooking, cleaning, driving), or we can teach them the skills they will inevitably need for independence (more on this in chapter 5). Teaching them the skills offers not only wisdom but also confidence, self-esteem, and executive function skills.
The gift of wisdom can be hard to identify, as so much of our identity as parents is tied up in the gifts of wealth or support. Still, it’s our job as parents not just to tell kids what to do but to also help them find their own paths to wisdom. In turn, they will learn to share with others.
As parents, we may feel perpetually helpless, but each of us has so much wisdom to share with other parents. This wisdom was often acquired the hard way through life’s joys and sorrows. Many spiritual teachings suggest that we get back double what we give (on the flip side, this also holds true when we “give” negative things). If we share authentically from our experience as parents, the recipient “gets” that wisdom, and the wisdom doubles in a tangible way. Spiritually speaking, we keep what we have and double it—be it joy or pain, wisdom or bad advice—by giving it away. Each act of generosity brings happiness, wiring neural connections that promote further generosity and wisdom and fostering an environment of exchange and openness in families. In short, our happiness is never lessened by wise and authentic sharing.
reflection What are some ways you can cultivate the generosity of wisdom in yourself and your family?
Generosity and Discernment
Of course, we have to be careful. We don’t want to deplete our emotional or financial stores, and we need to give in a balanced way so that our loved ones and children don’t feel neglected, deprived, or jealous. I know many children of dedicated and generous activists or academics who often feel neglected by the gifts their parents shared with the world. It’s not just wealthy businesspeople who end up with children longing for their parents’ presence. Our own wisdom can help us determine whether we are giving in a way that won’t cause more harm elsewhere. Before I became a father, I regularly offered my time to people whenever they asked, but that balance has shifted; I now direct most of my generosity toward my family and myself.
Once we start giving, our brains make it easier to act generously, because we’re rewarded with new neural pathways and waves of those wonderful neurotransmitters that make generosity feel good. As we’ve seen, receiving feels good, but giving feels even better. Being comforted feels good, but comforting can feel even better. And yet we tend to chase what feels good in order to hold on to that feeling or to get more of it. Although there’s nothing wrong with that, at some point, we need to be mindful of our intentions, especially when our ego demands recognition from our largesse.
Giving Too Much and the Challenge of Receiving
One challenge of generosity is making space for others to be generous—toward themselves, toward others, and toward us. We tend to forget this type of generosity when we cling too tightly to our identity as a parent, helper, or giver. Some of us have a habit of giving too much to our relationships, which may enable others in their unhealthy behaviors, like addiction or avoidance. This kind of giving breeds resentment, corrodes relationships, and benefits no one. For example, if you do all the chores around the house while your partner and kids lounge around, at some point you probably resent them for their freedom. What’s more, they’ll miss out on developing independence or enjoying the satisfaction that comes from doing one’s part. Finding a middle way is key.
I recently worked with a high school student named Daniel who was tremendously successful in terms of a college résumé—solid SAT scores, interesting internships, and enviable extracurriculars. But he simply could not make or keep close friends. After a few sessions, he confessed that a group he was hanging out with recently dropped him from their circle, not returning his texts or calls.
“I don’t understand,” Daniel sighed, slumped on my couch. “I bought them beer every weekend. I always paid for dinner. I gave them rides whenever they asked. I did everything a friend is supposed to do!”
My heart sank. We’ve all known a kid like this. I didn’t know what to say at first; I didn’t want to shame him or send the message to not share. After some reflection, I could articulate to him that part of generosity is being generous enough to give our friends space—including the space for equal exchange. Although well intentioned, Daniel was hogging almost all of the generosity, most likely out of fear. Instead of developing friendships, he was fostering discomfort and unwittingly setting the stage to be taken advantage of in the future.
reflection Consider some ways in which you or someone you know has shared too much, either from fear or from holding too tightly to a particular identity.
Many of us find receiving generosity—be it things, compliments, or wisdom—its own challenge. We unintentionally deny others the opportunity to practice generosity, forgetting that giving benefits both parties. This doesn’t mean hitting your friends up for cash while reminding them how good it is for their brain or afterlife. All we need to do is find little ways to receive the generosity of others. Simply asking for help when you need it is an excellent place to begin. I needed a lot of help when my son was born, and I tried to use that opportunity to let go of my identity as a helper and let in the love and assistance of others.
reflection What do you find more challenging—giving or receiving? Why might that be? In what ways does it matter who the person is? How might shifting the balance between giving and receiving change things in your life?
Finding and Creating Opportunities to Give
In many spiritual traditions, giving is built in. Adherents tithe, practice almsgiving, or pass a basket through the congregation. In much of Asia, monks quietly go on begging rounds through the village or city, bowls in hand, to be fed by locals or to receive premade care packages full of snacks, soaps, and robes. These cultures have evolved to include rituals of generosity that sustain their spiritual leaders, while offering opportunities for laypeople to reap the benefits of giving.
Conversely, our culture has evolved to encourage “frictionless” consumption, making it easier than ever to buy things we don’t want or need. We can still find opportunities to practice generosity, but where do we start? Think of the sun: it shines in all directions—up and down, inward and outward, near and far. Generosity practice can be like that, too.
You can start with yourself. Find a small way to extend generosity to yourself. As you wait for your kids after school or stand at the sink to wash dishes, try saying a kind word to yourself. You could also thank or compliment yourself—or even just give yourself a break. Consider the three types of generosity—material, comfort, and wisdom. Buy yourself a comfy sweatshirt, put a little cash in your retirement fund, reach out for help when you need to, read an inspiring poem, or spend time with a spiritual teacher. The opportunities are endless.
But watch out for getting self-care and self-indulgence mixed up. Those less-than-healthy practices of overeating, overdrinking, and overindulgence are different from preparing a special meal, enjoying a glass of your favorite wine, or purchasing the occasional treat. On the flip side, we can also give ourselves a hard time for taking needed breaks, labeling necessary rests as self-indulgence.
reflection What is one generous thing you can do for yourself right now? What would it take for you to stop reading right now and do it?
Just as the sun shines outward to touch all the objects closest to it first, try extending generosity toward those closest to you. Take your partner out to dinner, give your friend a hug, or tell your child something you appreciate about her. Text an authentic compliment to a friend or thank someone for buying you this book (or recommending it). Try it, right now! Notice how you feel—before, during, and after. Commit to this practice with a friend for a week or so, and check in with each other about it as you go.
The ancient philosopher Epictetus instructed, “Never suppress a generous impulse.”17 The Buddha advised his followers to avoid acting when feeling greedy, but instead to wait on action until a generous impulse arises. Today, the Buddhist teacher Sylvia Boorstein prescribes five unplanned acts of generosity a day. Although generosity is more of an action than a contemplation, it may be helpful at the end of your day to reflect on opportunities for generosity or when others were unexpectedly generous with you. In turn, you can share these with your family and reflect with them about what you are doing.
After you have offered generosity to yourself and to someone close to you, try giving it to a stranger. Take a moment to contemplate what that might look like, knowing there’s joy even in just contemplating an act of generosity. What would it be like to write a small check to a charity you’ve never given to before? To treat the person behind you in line to a cup of coffee? To feed a stranger’s parking meter? Maybe it’s looking the checkout clerk in the eyes and asking how she is doing, wishing her a good day and meaning it. Maybe it means reaching out to someone you don’t know in your parents’ circle and offering support. You might even do something kind for someone who frustrates you. A friend of mine (who happens to be an atheist Twelve-Stepping Muslim) has a simple practice of letting people in front of her take left turns at stoplights (if you know what the traffic is like around Cambridge, this qualifies for an incredible rebirth, afterlife, or sainthood—whatever your belief system is). You can also consider such generosity of spirit toward those difficult people in your life when it’s wise to do so.
Encouraging Generosity in Our Families
As every parent knows, teaching kids to share is a tall order. Two-year-olds actually prefer giving to getting but then relapse, struggling with sharing until they’re older.18 But this too offers an opportunity to practice patience and generosity of spirit.
As children get older, research shows that even a minor shift in the language we use makes all the difference in encouraging sharing.19 Instead of telling your children that “sharing is a nice thing to do,” you can let them know that “nice people share,” helping them cultivate a healthy identity as a generous person, without becoming like my lonely patient Daniel or my cookie-trading classmate from second grade. We can also encourage family sharing and connection by shifting our language to saying things like “the car” rather than “my car,” which is a practice that correlates with family stability.
Angela Duckworth, the author of Grit: Passion, Perseverance, and the Science of Success, has a family policy in which everyone practices one hard thing every day that they want to get better at—Angela practices yoga, her husband runs, and her kids do ballet and play the piano. I’ll discuss this idea more in chapter 8, but for now let’s build on Angela’s practice. Imagine having everyone in the family engage in one generous or kind activity that matters to them. What could this mean? When children are younger, generosity might mean noticing and following up on opportunities for simple acts of kindness on a daily basis—inviting over the new kid or holding the door open for a stranger. Some kids can choose a “secret friend” to watch out for throughout the school year or a neighbor they help with yard work. Many schools pair up older children to read to kids in younger grades; some even have the older kids teach mindfulness to the little ones. What matters is finding activities that are meaningful to them.
As parents, we can model generosity by baking cookies for kids to share at school, donating used books to an underfunded library or prison, or giving old toys to needy kids for the holidays. If you regularly donate gifts or money to charity, letting your kids drop a dollar in the basket, hand off the cans to the food bank staff, or place clothes into the donation bin at the thrift store will be satisfying and memorable. One friend has a family tradition of giving money to kids for holidays and their birthdays in the following form: fifty dollars in cash and a fifty dollar check to a charity of the child’s choice. Other families give kids three jars for their allowance: one for spending, one for saving, and another for sharing (or three-chambered piggy banks that do the same). This tradition instructs kids in the value of generosity while simultaneously teaching them how to make wise choices. Involving your kids in decisions about family donations can be another way to share generosity and clarify your family’s values.
As kids enter adolescence, community service is often a school requirement, but we often forget to make that service personally meaningful. For example, kids with an interest in the outdoors can clear trails or help maintain parks or beaches. Budding creatives can sing, perform, tell stories, put on an art exhibit, or paint a mural at a school, hospital, or retirement community. If performing isn’t their thing, they can volunteer at an art museum, community theater, library, or dedicated creative space (where there is often a shortage of funding and staff). If your children enjoy academics, they can share their skills with younger or less privileged kids. If they love cooking, perhaps they can prepare a meal at a local shelter or deliver meals to the homebound. Young fashionistas or antiquarians can help at a charity thrift store. For kids with passionate feelings about a political, social, or even personal cause, many campaigns offer ways for them to get involved. Young athletes might referee or coach younger kids. Computer skills can be put to good work at a cause they care about or simply by teaching senior citizens how to use their new phone. And don’t just send your kids out by themselves; you can join them on these generosity adventures or take them with you on your own.
reflection What are simple acts of generosity you and your family can perform from time to time?
Generosity and Generativity
Generosity is intimately tied in with the other paramis; it’s difficult to talk about one virtue without referring to the others. Generosity relates to ethics, because giving is the opposite of taking more than we need. Generosity also requires wisdom, of course, and giving wisdom is considered the highest form of generosity. Giving is also an act of renunciation that requires patience. And it’s impossible to discuss generosity without seeing it through the lens of kindness.
But the biggest gift we offer our children is a secure and loving family. If we provide them with a safe, securely attached upbringing, that in itself creates conditions for children to thrive in work and love and to be generous later on in life.20 How you raise your child is a gift not only to them but also to the world. Remember too that generosity is generative. It creates positive feelings and benefits for us and for those around us, and it becomes easier the more we practice. When we practice giving, we create a habit, rewiring ourselves to make giving a reflex—as opposed to something we have to remind ourselves to do with great effort.
Both science and wisdom traditions promise that the more we share—be it stuff, protection, or wisdom—the more we receive in return. What we give is less important than the intention behind the act of giving. Generosity opens our heart and connects us with others. In this way, it helps dissolve the divisions between self and other and radiates lovingkindness out into widening circles.