Speak to us of giving
The lady janitor who has made this job her career of 20 years hands me an old brass lamp. "It is old and needs a new bulb, but otherwise it still works," she says to me, with a thoughtful smile.
When you are at a time in your life the plague of pessimism starts to spread around your universe, you are at this place, sinking in a bottomless pit. You continue falling while you wait for your ultimate death as you crash on the hard, callous surface of the earth.
Then out of the dark blue hole, arms reach out grabbing and catching you. Hearts reveal themselves, alive with so much beat, as you find yourself following the rhythms. You are amazed that you seek solace and welcome the generosity of these unexpected visitors.
The dawn of optimism breaks the day and however malignant the disease of negativity had earlier infected your soul during your fall, you begin to rise; you look up to see the light peeking out of the well and smile as you climb out of your dark blurry grave.
Where I live the population numbers to 2,000. As you do your daily chores around this small community of simple folk, you come across familiar faces. Sometimes you forget names, and even faces. But the smile or the courteous greeting is always recognizable. This humble fishing locale surprisingly hosts a full line of resources to assist, volunteer, and offer charity. This is a collective lending hand. Classes are defined but not prejudiced. This small band of towsnfolk have formed volunteer help groups to assist the elderly, the youth, the impoverished and indigents, those with handicaps and disability - whether physical or mental, the social-underclass, the victims of varied abuses, children, wives, tagless dogs and lost cats, injured crows and seagulls, and most recently, me.
All of a sudden I find myself a victim of unconditional generosity. I am besieged by offers of the many forms of help - whether they be material or emotional. I am overwhelmed by people's atypical desire to donate their personal (and once valuable) effects as soon as the note on the memo board says I am in need. I am brought to tears not because of pity for myself, but of humanity's ability for compassion. And as uncomfortable I have been at first, I must remember and understand that I shall accept with open-arms the goodness of humankind, and to show acceptance of their gift with a simple, uncomplicated gratitude, and an uncompromising smile.
Even though I've always given mankind the benefit of doubt, many a bad experience gave way to cynicism and cold-heartedness. Once more I find myself believing the purity of the human entity. Another path comes my way. As I begin this new passage my heart is once again fed and my body is energized. I trudge my transitional road once more, bearing a smile at the meeting eyes of the unblemished, naked, and unmitigated giver-being.
There are those who give with joy, and that joy is their reward...
There are those who give and know not pain in giving...
Nor do they seek joy, nor give with mindfulness of virtue.
And you receivers... assume no weight of gratitude,
lest you lay a yoke upon yourself and upon him who gives.
Rather rise together with the giver on his gifts as on wings.
- Kahlil Gibran
When you are at a time in your life the plague of pessimism starts to spread around your universe, you are at this place, sinking in a bottomless pit. You continue falling while you wait for your ultimate death as you crash on the hard, callous surface of the earth.
Then out of the dark blue hole, arms reach out grabbing and catching you. Hearts reveal themselves, alive with so much beat, as you find yourself following the rhythms. You are amazed that you seek solace and welcome the generosity of these unexpected visitors.
The dawn of optimism breaks the day and however malignant the disease of negativity had earlier infected your soul during your fall, you begin to rise; you look up to see the light peeking out of the well and smile as you climb out of your dark blurry grave.
Where I live the population numbers to 2,000. As you do your daily chores around this small community of simple folk, you come across familiar faces. Sometimes you forget names, and even faces. But the smile or the courteous greeting is always recognizable. This humble fishing locale surprisingly hosts a full line of resources to assist, volunteer, and offer charity. This is a collective lending hand. Classes are defined but not prejudiced. This small band of towsnfolk have formed volunteer help groups to assist the elderly, the youth, the impoverished and indigents, those with handicaps and disability - whether physical or mental, the social-underclass, the victims of varied abuses, children, wives, tagless dogs and lost cats, injured crows and seagulls, and most recently, me.
All of a sudden I find myself a victim of unconditional generosity. I am besieged by offers of the many forms of help - whether they be material or emotional. I am overwhelmed by people's atypical desire to donate their personal (and once valuable) effects as soon as the note on the memo board says I am in need. I am brought to tears not because of pity for myself, but of humanity's ability for compassion. And as uncomfortable I have been at first, I must remember and understand that I shall accept with open-arms the goodness of humankind, and to show acceptance of their gift with a simple, uncomplicated gratitude, and an uncompromising smile.
Even though I've always given mankind the benefit of doubt, many a bad experience gave way to cynicism and cold-heartedness. Once more I find myself believing the purity of the human entity. Another path comes my way. As I begin this new passage my heart is once again fed and my body is energized. I trudge my transitional road once more, bearing a smile at the meeting eyes of the unblemished, naked, and unmitigated giver-being.
There are those who give with joy, and that joy is their reward...
There are those who give and know not pain in giving...
Nor do they seek joy, nor give with mindfulness of virtue.
And you receivers... assume no weight of gratitude,
lest you lay a yoke upon yourself and upon him who gives.
Rather rise together with the giver on his gifts as on wings.
- Kahlil Gibran
posted by Marian "Ylang2" at 11:16 PM
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