To Give Or Not To Give

It was only seven years ago that I learned the meaning of the word altruism. I don't mean I learned it in the sense that I was taught a lesson in altruism. I mean I literally didn't know the meaning of the word. If you're as uneducated as I am, here's a quick definition: 

"the principle or practice of unselfish concern for or devotion to the welfare of others (as opposed to egoism)." 

Doesn't sound very attractive, does it? I mean, sure, it's a quality that's attractive in others, but I certainly don't want to sacrifice my creature comforts for your well-being. Maybe you're not as selfish as I am. Good for you. I'm not proud of my ways. I'm just aware of them. Which is a far cry from where I came from. Because where I came from was a place where I believed I was a good, generous person. As most of us do. I don't know anyone who openly admits to being greedy, not even those whose greed is readily apparent to the rest of us. I think most of us basically take more than we give, but believe in our heart of hearts that we're givers rather than takers. Again, I don't speak for everyone. Maybe I'm just a particularly selfish person surrounded by particularly selfish people, but I somehow doubt that.

Belief < Action

There's a comedian by the name of Louis C.K. who does this really funny bit which perfectly illustrates my point. I'll try to paraphrase it for you (or you can just skip ahead to the video below and see for yourself). When traveling on a plane, Louis flies first class. But he often sees military personnel in uniform flying in coach. He believes the soldiers are more deserving of a first class seat than he is. So, he thinks to himself, “I should really give up my seat, and trade with this soldier.” But he doesn't. However, just the thought of this good deed warms his heart. He's actually proud of himself for having come up with the idea! Seriously, just watch the clip.

I love this bit because it describes us. Maybe not all of us, but many of us. At least 2,894 of us, which is the capacity of New York's Beacon Theater, where Louis' joke was met with hysterical laughter.

How many times do we fool ourselves into believing that we're good people simply because we have altruistic ideas? A real good guy would actually get up and act on these ideas, but that's just too much hard work dammit! I hear you, fellow sluggard.

Guilt ≠ Goodness

I used to feel I was a good person simply because I felt guilty about something I did (or didn't do). Those subtle voices in the back of my head would tell me things like, "A bad person wouldn't feel guilty about this" or "You're a good person because you have a conscience." False. If, like me, you experience guilt, congratulations, you're not a sociopath. But not being a sociopath is still a far cry from being a decent human being. A good person is someone who not only hears their conscience but listens to it. Ack! My brain popped when I first heard this. I had been fooling myself for so long! I had been playing the same brain-game with myself that Louis had joked about. 

Now, you may be assuming that I've written this post to tell you all how I've changed. What a kind and generous person I am today. Except this isn't a feel-good American film. It's reality. And in reality, change is often slow and painful.

Sure, I've shared and given away many things over the years, but to be perfectly honest, most of that "giving" and "sharing" didn't hurt too much. My (possibly idiotic) idea is that if it doesn't hurt, it's not good enough. In other words, no pain no gain. That may sound masochistic to some of you. And surely you don't need to follow the same game plan. But I've found that when something hits me where it hurts, there's a change a-happening. After all, having your ego slowly and painstakingly chiseled away must surely hurt. I used to have this idea that spiritual acts (a.k.a. selfless acts) were supposed to feel good. If I'm doing good, then I should feel good dammit! I mean isn't that why people do good in the first place? Where's my reward?! Waaaaaaah!! 

Stuff < People

If I had a bag of apples, chances are I'd give you one. I might even give you a few apples. As long as I had enough apples for myself, you see? What if I had only one apple? Would I share it with you then? Sad to say, this depends on some very fickle factors: (a) How hungry am I? (b) How much do I like you? (c) What will you give me in return? All selfish thoughts. My point is this. Is it generous to give away that which you don't need? Or that which you don't want? Are you a good person because you're kind to the people you love? What about being kind to the people you can't stand? Hmm...

"Two for you. Four for me. They're not poisoned either, I swear, heh-heh."

Truth be told, the good thing is usually the harder thing (no pun intended). The process of giving away something cherished may not feel good, and I'd like to tell you that those thirty seconds of pain and loss are then rapidly repaid with the joy of a thousand smiles (or for you materialists, the joy of a thousand bills; or for you sensualists, the joy of a thousand wenches). But that's not true either. Sometimes there's just more pain and loss. Surprise! Bet you weren't expecting that one, huh? Some sappy "spiritual guru" websites might try to sell you on the idea of altruism, promising you heartwarming fuzzy feelings. But they lie! A good deed never goes unpunished. Put that one in your pipe and smoke it.

So why bother? Well, that's a tough question to answer in words. Perhaps an interpretive dance would work best. But I jest. And rhyme (apparently)! Getting back on track, despite the suffering that comes with altruism, I'm drawn to it like a moth to a flame, or like a hobo to a nickel if you will. Let me just clarify that when I say I'm drawn to altruism, I don't mean to imply that I'm an avid practitioner. I just mean to say that I'm convinced (at least on an intellectual level) of its merits. Partly because the universe has convinced me that living a life of self-indulgence and self-concern leads only to despair (trust me, I tried really, really hard to succeed at this). And partly because I've found that making an effort in the direction of generosity (or in any direction that feels like a death of a thousand stabs) has long-term positive effects which I can't even begin to describe here. Let's just say that the more that is chiseled away, the lighter and freer I become, and leave it at that.

Belief x Action

Now, it's fine and dandy to harbor such belief. However, acting on this belief is another matter altogether. Can I even claim this as a belief if I'm not acting on it? Wouldn't that just make it a "lie I tell myself" rather than an actual belief? Like most of you, I don't like pain and discomfort, which, unfortunately, is what selflessness requires. In fact, I'm strongly attached to my creature comforts. Sure, if I have time on my hands, I can spare a minute for your BS. But if you catch me en route to some place or in the middle of something (it could be something as negligible as checking my email inbox), then see how willing I am to put my crap aside and give you a minute of my time. How interruptible are you?

"I dont' have time for this, you worthless sack of shit!"

How about when you're cutting up a piece of cake or serving chicken to your dinner guests (if you're not that fancy, imagine splitting a bucket of KFC)? Do you take the biggest piece of chicken? The cake slice with the most frosting? Or, god forbid, the last piece of cake?! I've done exactly these things and many times over. Perhaps you're not as attached to cake or to chicken as I am. But if you look, you're sure to find something that you are attached to (unless you're enlightened, in which case namaste).

Such examples may seem innocuous, I know. But I specifically chose these itsby-bitsy, teeny-weeny, yellow polka-dot examples because they're things we can all relate to. Not all of us rob liquor stores or steal money from our friends when they're not looking. But most of us are selfish at least in miniscule ways such as in the chicken and cake examples. Mmm... chicken and cake.

Or, for you more adventurous types, chicken cake!

You see, I've lived a life of hedonism and the result was misery. Not just the "Gosh, I feel a little blue because life isn't measuring up to my expectations" kind of misery, but the "Gee, maybe if I OD on my psych meds I can put an end to this" kind of misery. So, in a way, you could say I was painted into a corner of altruism. By a painful process of deduction, I came here, to the last house on the block. Well, you can just imagine my disappointment.

Good - Bad ≠ 0

Sometimes I still try to get away with "Let's make a deal" altruism. This is when I try negotiating with the universe and it goes something like this: "Okay, universe, I will give this old lady my seat on the bus, but now you owe me one." Then I try to cash it in, for example, by "allowing" myself to make a rude comment to my sister (sorry, Jana). This is not kindness. This is a business deal. You can't play tit-for-tat with the universe. I say this as an experienced tit-for-tatter.

Every time the universe dealt me a rough hand, I felt entitled to deal a shit hand to someone else. Maybe it would be the waitress, maybe a co-worker, or my mom. Who knows. But everyone got a taste, eventually. And conversely, I'd only be kind to people if I felt the universe was being kind to me. Only when I was in a good mood would you see me being a "good" person. Little did I realize that the universe doesn't owe me shit and that the goodness of one deed does not negate the badness of another.

Me > Mao, But Ghandi > Me

For a long time I patted myself on the back for not robbing a liquor store or stealing money from my friends. But that's no different than patting yourself on the back for not being a sociopath. It just doesn't cut the mustard. At least not for this gal. It's easy to look around and think to yourself, "Well, the world's fucked up anyhow, so what difference does it make?" or "Fuck all those motherfuckers! It's a dog-eat-dog world and I gotta take care of me and mine!" Another good one is, "I'm not as bad as that guy!" Bullocks to that I says. 

I've comforted myself with thoughts such as these in the past. Sure, if I compare myself to Chairman Mao, I'm a kind and generous person. Comparisons are sneaky because, although meaningless, they're extremely convincing and comforting. Don't compare yourself. Just stop it right now. You will always be more generous than Mao (if not, I don't want to know you) and you will always be greedier than Gandhi. There will always be people on this earth you can point to in order to justify your behavior. And nothing is easier. I should know. I was an expert finger-pointer.

Chairman Mao: Setting the Bar Low Since 1945.

I remember the first time I served coffee to a friend of mine, but in my favourite mug. My favourite mug, people! It was baby blue and covered with butterflies, a souvenir from the lovely Průhonice Park (for those of you shocked to hear I drink coffee from a butterfly mug - surprise!) Now, you may think I'm a swine for having had any difficulty serving coffee to my friend in this mug. Or you may be chuckling to yourself in understanding. Let me make it clear that it wasn't the giving of the mug that was important to me, but the fact that it burned (the giving, not the mug). Am I selfish because this simple act of generosity made me suffer? Or am I selfless because I did it despite the pain and suffering? I'm not here to answer such philosophical questions. I'm just throwing it out there as food for thought.

Pain ≠ Growth, But Growth = Pain

I'm not saying selflessness has to hurt. I'm saying that growth hurts. And if you're as selfish as I am, then yes, selflessness will hurt. On the subject of suffering, here's some news you can use:

"There are two kinds of suffering: the suffering that leads to more suffering and the suffering that leads to the end of suffering. If you are not willing to face the second kind of suffering, you will surely continue to experience the first." - Ajahn Chah

By suffering through random acts of selflessness, I've managed to grow a little bit as a person. And consequently, I suffer much less today than I ever have before. By "forcing" myself to do difficult things (this will certainly be different for each of you and may or may not involve coffee mugs) I believe I've rerouted some of the well-worn paths in my otherwise diseased brain. I like to think of it as water wearing away at a rock, until a groove is formed and the water simply follows the groove, flowing freely to its destination (wherever that might be). 

Well, that's enough out of me. I can't quite figure out how to end this post, so I'm just going to let this song do the work for me.

Give It Away - Red Hot Chili Peppers (1991)