Generosity is the Key to Overwhelm

A few years ago, I interviewed an American Buddhist nun who trained in Japan (Apple Spotify), and she shared how part of her training included begging for food and other forms of support. She explained that here in the United States, we interpret this act as a practice that cultivates humility in monks, but Buddhist cultures have a different concept of generosity. While the monastics benefited from the training, they were also giving the people who put food in their bowls the opportunity to practice generosity. 

From our cultural standpoint, we see the act of putting food in a bowl as charity. From the Buddhist perspective, it is an opportunity to spiritually confront the selfishness we wrestle with on a daily basis. People might be helping the nun, but the nun is also helping the people become more generous, which ultimately means they suffer less because generous people experience less attachment. Part of the monastic training is to live in a way that becomes a service to the world, all the way down to the practice of begging in order to help people suffer less. 

Generosity is the cure for the afflictions of greed, cruelty, or possessiveness.

When we live generously, we feel more at ease. This is because generosity emerges from a profound sense of belonging, it comes from believing in our interconnected nature. The Pali word for generosity is dāna, which means voluntarily giving material, time, and wisdom. Cultivating a practice of dāna helps us overcome our self-centeredness because we are cultivating an understanding of ourselves as giving people, as generous people. 

Because Buddhism is so nuanced, the texts are very clear. The perfection of generosity is not the act of giving, but the intention behind it. Our intention is very important because there are lots of people who give with the idea of getting in return. Embedded in their giving, embedded in their “generosity,” is a desire for some type of reward. But dāna is not concerned with who is worthy or who is not worthy, will I get something or will I not? It is the cultivation of giving so we can become generous people. 

And we can see the truth of this insight in our own culture, even though it is not described this way. If you have ever mentored someone, you understand it would be an entirely different relationship if that person had to pay for your wisdom. And as a mentor, you might even believe you received as much or more from the relationship than the person you were mentoring. This feels counterintuitive in a culture driving us to “go for self,” but cultivating generosity allows us to experience a profound sense of belonging, even if you didn’t know that is what you are doing.

The Buddhists believe there are 4 levels of dāna (generosity).

1. Being generous with our material possessions
2. Being generous with our words
3. Being generous with our thoughts
4. Being generous with our time

Each of these four aspects of generosity has a contrasting hindrance that reinforces our self-centeredness and selfishness. It doesn’t take a skilled practitioner to realize that the less generous we are with our material possessions, our words, our thoughts, and our time, what we are actually doing is reinforcing our self-centeredness and selfishness in each of these areas. 

The Buddhists point out that material generosity is the easiest form to cultivate. More difficult than giving money is being generous with our words, and more difficult than words is generosity of thought. 

Being generous with what we say does not mean we say a lot. It means being kind and compassionate with our words. And we have all said things that sounded charitable while reserving space in our thoughts that are not. When we’re not careful this comes out as passive aggression. 

Beyond generosity of thought is generosity of time, which is often interpreted as sharing wisdom. But we also know people who share time in hopes of getting something. They hide behind the words of generosity when what they’re really trying to do is force their worldview onto others. 

True generosity of time is the willingness to sit with others through difficulty. And the Buddhists include a special recognition for those who cultivate generosity by sharing spiritual teachings. Because the root of so much of our suffering is spiritual, if you are willing to share your time to offer a spiritual practice—like meditation—to help someone experience freedom from loneliness and isolation, this is the highest form of generosity.

Many people have an “allergy” to sharing spiritual practices with others because they do not want to be seen as “one of those people.” I understand this aversion. I don’t want to be confused with “one of those people” either. Not because I don’t believe that spiritual disciplines can’t relieve our suffering, but because, often, these people are not practicing true generosity. They are trying to convert people so they feel better about themselves or justify their worldview, which is deeply selfish.

But if someone is suffering and looking for help, and you offer to accompany them on a spiritual path, that is incredibly generous. 

The world is lonely and isolating, and our culture drives us to horde and be fearful. This is very unhealthy. But if we open ourselves up to the practice of generosity, we can cultivate willingness, gratitude, agency, and hope. And this can transform our lives and our culture.

When we truly encounter the insight of dāna (generosity), we realize what it means to belong.