One day last week I was at the Maypole with Rachel and she said I’ve been thinking about generosity. Write something about that for me!
I inquired about what aspect of the concept she has been reflecting on, and the short answer was: hosts and guests.
That one is easy. I believe that it is critically important to be an excellent host, and also an extremely well-behaved guest. My standards when I am the host are high in many respects; I abdicate all work time in favor of showing people around town. When I have money I pay for everything. I throw parties or arrange adventures or just hang around, according to the desire of the visitor.
Smaller details sometimes get overlooked – I am not a dependable source of freshly laundered towels, for instance. But I open my home (or rather boat) to a nonstop stream of friends.
If I’m the guest, I do not have requests beyond minimal physical requirements. This means nothing more than water, tea, and a warm place to sleep – and I am capable of sorting all three without assistance. I may have a few errands to run (can’t buy my lipstick here in Cambridge, and I have to get it somewhere!) but the rest of the itinerary is completely open. Or closed – I am perfectly happy to amuse myself.
Essentially, I presume that people offer what they can give. I take what I can accept.
I am in fact notoriously compulsive about all sorts of things, but I travel without expectations. Sometimes I stay in hotel rooms that cost more per night than I paid in rent in a whole year as a student. Other times I find myself sleeping rough in a filthy punk house.
Sometimes when I get off an airplane I am met by a driver holding a sign with my name on it. Other times I find myself stranded without anyone to call. The experiences are equal, because the facts do not matter.
I’ve had just as much fun on tour with fifteen people and one towel as I’ve had lounging around a penthouse apartment in Rome.
I have friends of all sorts, all over the world, and enjoy their company. I love to perform, get a huge thrill out of throwing and attending parties and events – I like people. Yet one of my happiest memories of last year was sitting alone in a laundromat in San Francisco eating cinnamon jelly beans.
The loneliest moment I had all year long occurred in my favorite bar, surrounded by friends who adore me.
That is how life works sometimes.
It is of course impossible to skip all of the negative stuff: I’ve been disappointed, frustrated, angry, and lost – routinely. I’m a confused, disheveled, working class kid who has wandered far from home. I often make stupid mistakes. I am fully aware of my own limitations, and that can be excruciating. Half the time I even know in advance which experiences will be disturbing.
The trick is that understanding something might be difficult has never proved a deterrent. In fact, if I notice that I am scared, I fling myself at whatever has frightened me.
Right now I am scheduling trips that will keep me on the road for a few months. I don’t know if I will have fun, or if anything will go according to plan, but it will be interesting and useful. No matter what happens.
Generosity is not about material gifts or gain; it is an attitude that can be exercised everywhere, all the time.