And then I broke my new year’s resolution.

I rarely post without editing, but this one’s going live without a second look. Buckle up.

My 2013 new year’s resolution was to always choose generosity. And by always, I mean every freaking time a group or cause asked for a donation, I was the eager beaver saying yes.

I’ve said yes a lot over the past 11 months, and while unnatural at first, now it feels really good. I like who it’s made me become.

It makes someone’s day to hear a positive response after dozens of negative ones. Peoples eyes light up when you agree to support a cause they’re passionate about. Try it and you’ll thank me; pretty much makes you a modern-day Robin Hood.

Homeless pets? OF COURSE I’d like to help save them. Candy bars for the troops? COUNT ME IN. Donations for juvenile diabetes? MY PLEASURE.

I said yes every single time I was asked to help out with a charitable cause (to the best of my memory), regardless of whether it was a convenient time, something I felt closely aligned to or how I was approached. I’ve donated by text message, through Facebook and by PayPal. I’ve purchased things from kids outside grocery stores and given whatever I could spare from my wallet (or abyss of a backseat) to homeless folks and lackluster counter-top collection jars.

Sometimes I said yes even when I really didn’t want to (my credit card bill astounds me sometimes), or when it seemed excessive (come on, I donated to three other people this week). I said yes to all kinds of projects, even when I wondered where my money was actually going, when there were no 501(c)3 tax receipts and when I sensed that my money was a mere drop in the bucket for an agency that already had plenty of support.

Let me tell you, those dollar add-ons that pop up when you’re checking out at a retail cash register are pure genius. Round of applause to whoever designed that system because it is now one of my favorite things. Actually, I think that in addition to soliciting donations, these systems could be used for public interest surveys (What color are your socks today? Who is your celebrity write-in candidate for President?).

Anyway, here we are near the end of the year, and I’m feeling pretty good about my moral fiber. Is my chest puffed out? Perhaps a smidge.

In total I’ve probably given a few hundred bucks and a dumpster’s worth of old clothes and household items away and to be honest, I haven’t felt the difference in my bank account at all. It’s not because I’m wealthy…if I stopped to tally it all and saw what I might’ve done with the money (car payment, plane ticket, etc), I might feel remorseful for a minute or two. But I’m not going to do that and that’s not the point, anyway. If you wait until you’re ‘ready’ to donate, you’ll never be ready. It ties back to what I wrote a year ago:

I’m not spending a ton of money doing this. It’s $1 to $20 at a time, which is (sadly – but honestly) the amount I spend on trivial things everyday. There’s no way to determine if any of the people I’m supporting truly need the money. But who’s to say? My determination is, if they have made the decision to ask me for it, then they need it. More than I do. I love the idea that even on a very, very small scale, I’m bringing some happiness to different people this way. Being the change. Sharing positivity, even if it’s fleeting.

So now what? Well, I broke this resolution last Saturday, right after Thanksgiving of all times, and here’s what went down. An adorable cub scout outside of Lowes asked me to purchase something form his bake sale. I stopped. Froze, really, and walked away mumbling. I snubbed a cute little uniformed kiddo because I am so, so saddened by the policies of BSA. It took until this year – 2013 – for them to temporarily repeal a ban on members based on sexual orientation. And a ban remains – in 2013, mind you – on leaders who are homosexual. I can’t breathe normally when I think about it.

I readily admit I could have and should have handled this situation differently. I threw away an opportunity to turn my negative feelings into a positive moment of dialogue with volunteers on why I think all people deserve equal rights to participate in any outdoorsy woodsman-like activities they choose. I didn’t do that though, I just huffed and walked away. That sucks, but it’s also pushed me to think a lot about whether I’m contradicting my own pledge to generosity by picking and choosing like this. I’m willing to bet there are unethical things and wrongdoing amid the hierarchy of almost every charity…but the difference is that BSA publicly shares their policy of discrimination, and it impacts children. This breaks my heart.

All children, scratch that, all humans deserve safe ways to grow and socialize and learn regardless of sexual orientation, race, age or income class. BSA is an independent organization that I know has done wonderful things for millions of people. But today – right now – it’s making some kids feel less ok about themselves and possibly their parents, teachers or relatives. They’re getting a subtle message that there’s something dangerous or undesirable about these people, and that’s not ok.

I won’t attempt to pretend I know all the history, politics or facts surrounding this situation, but I felt compelled to write this. My point was simply that A) Generosity can be hard, especially when it conflicts your own morals, and B) Kindness and acceptance should always guide us, not fear or hate.


Free warm fuzzies, just read this.

I recently wrote about generosity, and how I’m trying to weave it more fluidly into my life. In order to do this, I first had to admit that I wasn’t being as generous as I could and should be. That was some uncomfortable soul searching. Not as uncomfortable as re-reading your high school yearbook inscriptions (maybe I did that this weekend, maybe I didn’t) but it worked out. So far, so good.

Today, I got an email from a dear friend. A friend I’ve known since the awkward days of junior high dances and gym-class uniforms, and who I’ve fortunately kept up with through the miracle of facebook and our blogs. I respect and admire her, and love her for her courage, compassion and gigantic heart. My efforts pale in comparison to the things she’s done and continues to do for others, and today her words warmed my heart.

Did I squeal with happiness in the confines of my cubicle when I read her email? Yeah, totally did.

It was exactly what I needed to hear on a long, long day. It restored my faith in humanity, and kindness, the same way the action itself likely did this for the people involved.

Yesterday I was at a red light and I saw a homeless man a few cars up. He had an eye patch on and a sign, but I didn’t even bother to read it, nor would I have been able to as he was too far away. I scrambled to find something in my car I could give him. I had just bought some cliff bars and as the homeless man walked towards my car I said, “I don’t have any money, but here are some Cliff Bars,” and handed him the entire box. The light had turned green and I didn’t want to hold up traffic so I kind of just grabbed the box and shoved it at him. I thought about giving him my red vines, but figured a granola bar is a little better than candy – and secretly I didn’t want to give up my red vines! Anyway, it made me think of you. I literally did have no money – maybe a few pennies, but I wanted to do SOMETHING for him. He thanked me before I drove away and I felt good about it. I love that you are giving to anyone who asks this year and I look forward to seeing how you feel at the end of the year. I imagine you’ll feel pretty pleased.


This is what it’s all about.

Acting with your heart. Doing what’s right. Just because. People helping people, without qualifying their needs or the long-term impact or anything that superfluous. Just being nice and doing good because it matters.

Give me your heart