“I’m so embarrassed. I don’t do this. I had my first treatment chemo treatment today, and I haven’t eaten in two days. I got nowhere to go. I don’t know how else to put it. I’m asking you for twenty dollars.”
The woman was crumbling, dissolving in front of me. She’d cornered me at an ATM inside a gas station, late one Saturday night. The mini-mart manager had tried to deflect her, and even offered her a job application. I could see the frustration (and pain) in his eyes. “Not another one.” And in her eyes? Pure desperation.
She followed me outside, and launched into a rambling spiral of agonizing stories. Her illness. Her terror. Her hair, shaved off at the clinic. The gruesome truth, about a woman facing a death diagnosis? A torrent of lies masking a drug addiction? I didn’t know. And it really didn’t matter.
I gave her five dollars. She burst into tears, and begged for more. I gave her a twenty. And a hug. She asked for my name, told me she’d pray for me, and took off like a spectre into the darkness. She held my money (and a Red Bull energy drink) in her hands. The drink was for “a friend.” “He’s waiting for me,” she said.
I gave her the money — but I didn’t feel like I’d made a charitable contribution. I didn’t feel clean, upstanding or useful. I didn’t feel like I’d done anything wrong. But I didn’t feel like I’d done anything right.
As a sad-eyed therapist from teenage days of yore once told me, “Life is messy.”
No fucking kidding.
Broken-hearted humanity…and how to be kind when the answer is NO.
I give money to men & women on the street with a clouded, heavy heart. Sometimes with gratitude, that I have so much to give. Often with guilt, for my privileged life. Usually with trepidation. And occasionally with fear, for my physical safety. That’s not philanthropy — it’s an uneasy concession.
Not everyone shares my convolution, of course.
Jesus, who was a pretty upright fella, has a clear stance on the matter — “Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back.” (Luke 6:30).
The Buddha has a similar slant: “If you knew what I know about the power of giving, you would not let a single meal pass without sharing it in some way.”
And remember the priest in Les Miserables, who willingly gives a pair of silver candlesticks to Jean Valjean (even though he’d attempted to steal them) — a simple act of unconditional love, that turns the battered ex-convict’s whole life around? “I have bought your soul for God,” says the priest. And the transaction is complete.
Giving — without end, without question, without boundaries — seems like the very definition of compassion. But is it?
Is it possible to radiate unconditional love & support…to be gentle, to be nurturing, and to recognize someone’s humanity…even when faced with crushing desperation…even when the answer is “No”?
I believe we can. It’s Broken-hearted Humanity. And like any other spiritual action, it requires practice.
Practice with me:
“No.”
“No, thank you.”
“The answer is no, and take care of yourself.”
“I am not available to you.”
“I’m going to say no, but I’ll pray for your recovery.”
“The answer is no, but I’d like to help you in a different way…”
“I’m not able to give you the cash you asked for, but here’s a gift card for a sandwich. There’s a Subway just down the street.”
“There’s a shelter at the corner of Stevens & 22nd. You’ll find help there.”
“If you need money for bus fare, take this bus pass instead. There’s a $5 dollar credit left on it. That’ll carry you home. Travel safely.”
“No, I don’t carry cash. But I’m wishing you better luck, and success.”
“I often say yes, but this time, my answer is no.”
“No, and be well.”
“No.”
Let your heart break…
…but keep your boundaries intact. When they crumble, you crumble. Sometimes that’s a beautiful thing. And sometimes, it’s just “messy.”
Whether it’s a “Yes” or a “No,” make it discerning, make it clear, and make it kind.
That’s benevolence. That’s empowerment. That’s love.
* * *
“Broken Houses” by German cult artist & photographer Ofra Lapid, via Beautiful Decay.
LOVE as usual. Yes!!! No can be holy and righteous and sanctified too. When it is coming from that most true and holy and sanctified place,, of course. xo
it was in a classics class i took where i found the answer to the question of whether or not i should give people money who ask for it (on the street kind of thing). my professor was teaching the odyssey (how much better is the odyssey than the Iliad?! my god.) and he said, ‘denying someone who is in a travelling state, aid, money, food what have you, denies that they are human. by ignoring their plight, by refusing to help in whichever way you can, you make them monsters or worse, inanimate.’ something along those lines anyway. i mean if i dont have it, i dont have it, but i usually do, and i usually give, what i can.
I love this.
I just went to a workshop with Byron Katie and she talked about this wonderfully.
“I love you, and no.”
“I understand where you are coming from, and no.”
I love the “and” instead of the “but”. The “no” is not in spite of the love or the caring or the understanding — they are not opposites. When your answer is honest with yourself and the other person, it is congruent with love. Anything that is congruent with love demands an “and”, not a “but”.
Oh, Alex, you are beautiful — this is beautiful. And heartbreaking. And true. And wise.
As a kid growing up in India, I was outraged when the grownups in my life ignored the beggars, the lepers, the big-bellied children and their worn-out mothers who trailed after us everywhere we went, beseeching. Compassion, love and justice. Denial, pain and fear. We each had a choice to make.
Now that I’m all grown up, my responses are more complex — but they emerge from the same impulse and the same choice.
Thank you for your loving heart, and for this post.
Thanks so much for writing and sharing this. Ah, yes. I know the feeling when the yes isn’t really a yes. And the difference when it is, truly. Not only on the street, or when the salesguy with a compelling story (and perhaps some skill at manipulating your emotions to make the sale), but as a friend, parent, fellow human regardless of our relationship. A compassionate, loving “no” is self-love. Giving what you can and being honest with yourself and those making requests about what you can’t give freely and whole-heartedly- and trusting that this other person can find what they truly need without getting what they’re asking from you- just feels much more clean and loving and true.
Graciously brilliant! Thank you for being so open-hearted with boundaries.
You have done it again! I love this and FOsure, I am practicing, thank you.
I sometimes find myself avoiding eye contact with beggars and people on the street, and it’s making everyone miserable. Me, because I feel my own shame burning underneath my jacket. They, because they are constantly reminded of their place in society, where even the good people are avoiding them like they were carrying contageous diseases.
I think the kind approach is to be a witness, to for just a little moment meet their situation with grace and dignety. “I won’t give you any money, but I will recognize that you are a human being, being it you beg out of necessity or laziness. “
So sad and true. Something we all face and struggle with. I love how you wrap it all up in the end “Let your heart break……but keep your boundaries intact. When they crumble, you crumble. Sometimes that’s a beautiful thing. And sometimes, it’s just “messy.””
This post reminds me of the feeling that emerges when I watch a movie that’s missing that good ol’ happy ending. It leaves you feeling gipped, like it should have ended better. And it teaches you a powerful lesson, that life is not full of happy endings for everyone. Its not all rainbows and your favorite…unicorns.
SIMONE :: Can’t go wrong with Byron. And yes, “and” is a beautiful alternative to “but”…
HIRO :: This post was largely inspired by your teachings on energetic boundaries, of course! XO.
LESLEY :: Yes, absolutely. Compassionate NO’s have many uses & places — from sales pushes you don’t want to hear anymore, to “great opportunities” you don’t want to accept. This is but one (extreme) example.
KARISA :: Life has a myriad happy endings. And many uneasy ones. But we rewrite our life stories with every choice…as someone smart once said.
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Somehow feels like “doing our best to give our best”. Even (especially? sometimes?) in the no’s. Messy, to be sure. Uncertain. Uneasy.
Thank you, Dear A, for parsing through this for us. It’s an important tangle.
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Where I live, we have ‘resident’ homeless and beggars… they are there every day, sitting, waiting with their dog or their kids or their poorly written sign… some I have seen every day for 3 years. One man, who can’t be more than 30, with beautiful, wild green eyes, unkempt hair and a bushy beard has just begun to ask for money – I recently offered him a small bag of Tangerines I’d just purchased at the local green grocer. He turned them down – so now, I don’t offer anything. The man who has sat next to the cash machine, sometimes with his little daughter, sometimes not (for the last 3 years) I don’t give him anything – surely he could be doing SOMETHING, anything other than just sitting there with his hand out.
Little old ladies – I always give them money.
The young gypsy girl on the corner with the puppy: I give her dog food.
Yes, life is messy… and it’s increasingly difficult not to become hard-hearted when there is so much desperation. But we can only do what we can do… I chose what I could do, something that made me feel alright – even good – about doing it. Good luck everyone – it won’t be getting better any time soon.
It’s a hard place to be. And I think it is because we want to help but we aren’t sure what the best avenue is and every situation is different so our “solutions” are endless. Dyanna Valentine sent me your way to read this bc my last blog post is very similar. In the story I tell– I realized that I really just wanted to feel good about myself for helping—as opposed to doing something that was relevant/meaningful/useful for that person. Great post and Thanks for sharing!
Y’know, I don’t know. I guess I don’t really want to feel good about not giving to the homeless. Not that I always do give; but I try, unless I have no cash or feel threatened (which, honestly, I might have in the situation you describe).
I feel like anyone who is begging needs £1 or £2 more than I do, and that small act could make someone feel cared for. I guess deep down it’s selfish: I know it could (very literally) easily be me, and I’d hope a stranger might care. (And not just by recommending a possibly problematic shelter or giving me food I may not like.)
I get that this was just an example, know social problems aren’t all mine to solve, and worship at the altar of the all-powerful “…and no.” But I guess this just is one of those times I can live with feeling conflicted, considering all the other privileges it comes with.
This is just beautiful. I struggle with these boundaries so much, and I really like your delineation of the difference between philanthropy and “uneasy concession.” So absolutely right. I give in many ways, through volunteering and donations to causes that help the homeless, but I rarely give money to those on the street. And yet I walk by them, every single day, with acute pain in my heart and tears in my eyes. I haven’t quite untangled the heartbreak yet, but I’m grateful to read here that perhaps I’m neither alone nor cold-hearted. xo