The gift of generosity

"No one has ever become poor by giving."

Anne Frank

My mom, your grandma, is an odd duck. So.Many.Quirks.

But there’s one quirk that used to drive me crazy—her generosity. Too much generosity, if you ask me. I had to be careful about complimenting something she owned because she’d likely give it to me on the spot. I had to avoid asking for help, because she’d drop everything to assist, no matter how busy she was. And I had to hold back from sharing my worries, because she’d worry on my behalf, probably more than I did.

And it wasn’t just me. My mom is the one who literally created a company to help a friend struggling with his dance career. She’d fly back to India for a birthday party and return the next day. She even rearranged every room in her house to accommodate her high school friends who only visit once a year.

Her kindness wasn’t exclusive—it extended to anyone, regardless of how long she’d known them. And that’s what made it hard for me to watch. People took advantage of her generosity, using her time and resources without ever reciprocating. It infuriated me, watching them take and take, knowing she was being exploited.

I thought she was a victim of her own kindness.

I told her once that I disliked the people who were taking advantage of her. I expected her to agree, or at least acknowledge it. But what she told me changed my perspective completely. She said, "If they need to take advantage of me, then maybe they need what I have more than I do."

She wasn’t naive at all. She knew what she was doing, and she was okay with it. My mom found joy in giving, in sharing her blessings with others, and to her, it wasn’t about being taken advantage of. She was choosing to give, and that shifted everything for me.

It was a moment of deep respect. It wasn’t just her generosity that struck me—it was the mindset behind it. She was never a victim because nothing was taken from her—she chose to give.

I’m still learning this. I try my best to give, but I struggle when I see people taking more than they should. But I remind myself of the lesson your grandma taught me: generosity isn’t just a gift to others, it’s a gift to yourself. When you give freely, you aren’t depleted—you’re uplifted by what you’ve done.

So, when you find yourself in similar situations, remember: it’s not just about what you give; it’s about how you choose to see it. Generosity is as much a gift to yourself as it is to others.

Defining friendship

“Friendship is the hardest thing in the world to explain. It’s not something you learn in school. But if you haven’t learned the meaning of friendship, you really haven’t learned anything”

Muhammad Ali

Making friends has always been hard for me.  When I was in school, and by school I mean the entirety of my life before graduating from college, my personal life was all about “fitting in,” “being social,” and “being normal.” I think everyone goes through this phase to some degree, but each person to a different extent.  One of the reasons for this is because everyone is at different points along society's "normal" spectrum and as a result, certain people can more easily fall into the idealistic norm. 

For me, I always felt I was on the fringe of that spectrum.  I didn't feel like I "fit in," or at least not like people I knew. I always felt like I was on the second or third circle of friends, but rarely in the first.  Now, it wasn't like I had no friends, I did.  I even had close friends and best friends, but I didn't feel like I had a circle.  This "non-circle" feeling was a constant growing up but it didn't become a problem until middle school.  Why middle school? I don't know, but I distinctly remember middle school being a huge pivot on how I felt about myself and being on the outside of the circle.

At the time, I wasn't happy with it, but I didn't know what to do to change the circumstance.  I felt like people had already chosen their circles or "picked their places" so to speak, so what on earth could I do to change that?  I envied people who changed schools because it felt like that had a built-in entry point to disrupt existing circles and find a place.  In fact, my junior year of high school, I even changed schools partially due to me wanting to force that kind of opportunity.

Well, as you might have expected, that didn't work. But something pretty incredible happened coming out of that change.  You see, prior to that moment, my friends were based on proximity.  Meaning, my childhood friends were completely dependent on the fact that they lived in my neighborhood, were in my classes or shared my extracurricular activities.  But after that moment, it all changed because proximity was taken out of the situation.  What I was left with was a crystal ball that showed me exactly who was willing to go out of their way to be in my life and just as important, who I was willing to go out of my way to be part of theirs.

Those two final years in high school were pretty rough as my plan pretty much backfired when I never really made any great friends at the new school (I told you I was bad at making friends).  But, that change helped me realize two important things about myself:

1. I do better outside of circles.  Maybe that is why I never felt like I was in the inner circle, but it took a long time for me to understand that it was perfectly fine that that was the case.

2. My true friends have the ability to transcend proximity and have the ability to be there for me even when they aren't actually here.  Realizing this was important for me because it became a large part of how I define my best friendships.

I know what you are thinking, "don't you usually have a point to these stories?" Well here it is: until very recently, I credited my high school move with understanding those things about me, but that isn't true.  If you really pushed me, I could have accurately told you the friends that would stay in my life and I could have told you that circles just weren't my thing.  

You don't need to make a move, you just need to do some soul searching.  People define friendships differently and my definition most likely won't be the same as yours.  People have different needs and friendships play different roles in their lives.  So before you make an unnecessary move, my advice to you is to take the time to understand yourself and what you need out of those roles.  There will be aspects of that definition that will change throughout the years and there will also be constants, but know that it is okay if your definition of friendship doesn't line up with everyone else's.

Redefine winning

"In order to have an alive, joyous life, you have to give up being "right." You must simply be willing to let go of the need to have the point of view that you are right dominate all aspects of your life. This is especially challenging when you are, in fact, correct. But if you have to prove another is wrong, even if you win, you lose. Something inside you is less alive"

A while back, I wrote about the importance of understanding you can be wrong. I want to further expand on that idea to show that, contrary to what we are taught, being "right" doesn't always correlate with "winning."

This is pretty counter-intuitive as early on in our lives we watch people debate, we learn to debate, and we are instilled with the idea that within debates, there are winners and losers.  Winning is defined as being right and proving your point; losing is defined as conceding.

I will admit, a lot of times, this is probably going to hold true -- but the reason it holds true is because what you would concede would go against your beliefs, values, or ideas. The difference is when being "wrong" doesn't do any of those things, it simply hurts our ego because we don't get to be right.  And the problem with this? Sometimes the only way to prove yourself right is to prove someone else wrong, and when it comes to proving someone else wrong, that has the potential of being hurtful.

Across the board, I would urge you to consider what winning is prior to entering a conversation, debate, or argument.  Put "being right" aside for a second, determine what you want to be the result, and figure out the best way to accomplish that result.  Sometimes the best result is to not bring down another person, and sometimes that requires you saying you are wrong (even if you are not).