What more can I do?

Often when I am talking to people about doing things for others the phrase, "It's the least I can do" comes up. I know I have said it myself when commenting about a hour spent here, a food bank donation made there, some things dropped off at a shelter or clothing depot, a casserole or soup made for an ailing friend or a bereaved family.

Realistically, many of us are not in the position financially to be as philanthropic as we might wish. We might even be feeling somewhat skeptical; the kinds of givers who never feel comfortable that our dollars are going where they should when our chosen charities are sending frequent multi-page, glossy colour brochures that cost five bucks each to mail. Wait! My money is supposed to be paying for Halima's education in Bangladesh . . .

Often over these past few festive weeks during times spent with others, eating well in warm lovely homes, surrounded by good health and plenty, discussions have turned to giving. As a student of the Buddha path, much of my studying has been about what it means to give and how by doing so, to develop one's spiritual nature. Giving with pure motivation is called dana paramita (Sanskrit), or dana parami (Pali), which means "perfection of giving." It comprises charity and the giving of material things, but also when one cannot give of those, the giving of lovingkindness to all and spiritual guidance to those who seek it.

One's motivation for giving is important, too. I ask myself  Why am I doing this now? and struggle sometimes with the thought that my giving is somehow self-serving. Being shamed or intimidated into giving; giving to receive a favor; giving to feel good about yourself are not pure motivations at all. The Buddha taught us to give without expectation of reward or even thanks. Giving quietly, even secretly, helps one to release attachment to material things and greed. There is a tradition in Japan where Buddhist monks carry out traditional alms begging with their faces obscured by broad straw hat brims so as not to be seen by the giver nor to see the giver's face.

Japanese Buddhist monk begging alms and praying.

How fortunate I am to know so many people with open, giving hearts. More than just giving to charity, their generosity shows a spirit of responding to the world and giving what is needed and appropriate at the time, all year long, locally and abroad, to all beings. Where once I was satisfied with an "It's the least I can do", but I will actively try and make it into "What more can I do?"

The Call

I am someone who really rather detests the telephone. If there is any way I can avoid being around one,  I do.  Yes, I've had a cell phone since 1999, but mostly for emergencies, and I just got into texting within the last year. A very select few people have my cell number. Anyone can call our home phone as we have a listed, searchable number, but if someone actually answers it, be surprised - be very surprised. Those who know Julie and me well know that we rarely answer our telephone.

My wife uses a phone for her living as a service advisor in the automotive world. She has to take calls all day long to book appointments, arrange for parts to be on site, hear complaints and sad stories. She is no bigger fan than I am when the phone rings at home. "Are you going to answer that, Cate?" "No." And the call goes to voicemail.

We have the same experiences that anyone in the general public has with telemarketers, surveys and robo-calls. We have caller ID so that, of course if it's a sibling or child we answer or call right back. We are not anti-social (at least not completely yet!), but if you can e-mail or message us via social media, we are guaranteed to respond in a more timely manner.

There are other exceptions of course. I have chatty days now and then, when hearing that certain person's actual voice is a delight, and conversation, not mere small talk, flows back and forth effortlessly. Those calls, whether initiated by me or the other party, fill my spirit when I'm low. A good laugh shared is irreplaceable, as are words of genuine empathy. A short newsy update is not amiss when the other party is not a Facebooker or e-mailer. But what can one offer by way of response if the caller seems only to want advice that they would never take, or for me to somehow affirm their belief that they have been grievously wronged by their spouse/child/boss or some corporate entity? You can only say, "I am so sorry that happened to you" so many times.

All this said, I was reminded recently by my dear Anne McMahon, my cousin Kevin's wife, of a call we would both dearly love to make or receive. With the Christmas season upon us, and warmest memories of how our late parents loved and celebrated the December festivities, she commented that she would so love to pick up the phone and call them. A catch came into my throat on reading it. How I would so love to hear Dad's or Mom's voice over the phone again! Dad, after many years of being on call at the clinic would pick up with a "Smith speaking", and Mom would follow her cheery "Hello?" with "What are you doing right now?" and be genuinely interested. Anne says it is almost automatic when she dials from Quebec to her brother in Truro to dial 1-902-893 . . . and almost call her folks' number to this day. When I moved back to Colonial Avenue almost 15 years ago, I actually asked Bell Aliant to keep the Smith phone number that they had had since the 1960s, and so, when I phone home, I am phoning HOME.

To all who are missing some certain loved ones, whether at this time of year or anytime, just imagine the flood of emotions and sheer joy if we could pick up the phone and hear those voices again! That is the call I would answer with no hesitation.

Having it all . . .

Just let me smell the fir and pine, cinnamon and vanilla within the warmth of our home. Let me walk outside in the brisk air, and hear the crunch of snow or sere leaves beneath my booted feet. Let the wan light of December sun play over the rooftops and bare trees outside my window while the playlist on my iPod encompasses everything from “Ave Maria” to “Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer”.

But stop, please stop barking about having been saluted with “Happy Holidays” or “Season’s Greetings” instead of “Merry Christmas”, and declaring that those words mean taking sides in what some people have called (thanks, Fox News and Bill O’Reilly!) the “war on Christmas”.

There is no such thing. No amount of Grinchiness, no reminders that a nativity scene was not permitted in a school or government building, no inclusion of other seasonal observances can ever diminish Christmas in the hearts, minds and yes, pocketbooks (that’s another story!) of the masses in the western world.

It is not easy to impress on some people how embracing diversity does not mean turning their backs on their long-held religious views. You are not forsaking your beliefs by investigating, becoming educated or sharing in the rituals of another faith or creed. True, many of us in my peer group, growing up in Nova Scotia, did not see a menorah or Star of David in our neighbours’ homes, or know of Kwanzaa or Yule, other than with its references to a yule log cake. Still, how could knowing and learning about customs and traditions of others do anything but enrich us?

 

What makes people pit their beliefs against and focus such righteous outrage on others where Christmas is concerned? Kindness and compassion stand at the root of ancient and modern belief systems alike. Go to mass, have eight nights of lights, feast and frolic with abandon, be with those you love, give more or your time and less from the superficial “spend, spend, spend” mentality. Sing! Rejoice! Sit quietly. Observe or don’t.

That is having it all.