Unwanted Gifts: When Generosity Goes Wrong

Now that we’re through the holidays, I get to start ordering seeds and planning for next spring’s garden.  I could not be more excited.  A few years ago, I realized that it’s a lot easier to plant around my irrigation hoses rather than try to arrange stiff hoses around my already planted rows of seeds.  The upside of this is the plants get the water they need just where they need it.  The downside of this is I have to put in all the irrigation hoses before I plant anything which means in early March, which around here means in the rain. 

It also means I have to get out the hoses in the rain.  Getting out last year’s hoses is a giant pain in the butt.  First of all, when I put them away, I was done with gardening, sick of working in the sun and just wanting to get it all stowed before the bad weather started.  Second of all, hoses figure out how to tangle with everything over the winter.  Everything. 

Last year, while I was pulling them out, Forrest happened to be working from home.  As I struggled to get everything out, periodically hitting my head on some as-yet-unpruned apple tree branches (I’m short and not used to ducking), I noticed him watching. After I had finally succeeded in getting the hoses out and dragging them to the garden, I walked back in, sweaty and frustrated. Forrest smiled as I asked if he’d seen the whole thing. “Yup, and I thought about helping, but then I reminded myself you are a strong, independent woman.”  He knew the truth.  If he had come out in the middle of the struggle, I would have bitten his head off.

What does this have to do with generosity?  First, you generously listened to me talk about gardening again.  Thank you for that.  Seriously, though, I’ve written a lot about how to move into generosity.  What happens when you try to be generous and the other person bites your head off?  Or tells you it was hurtful, wrong, or insensitive?

First, if you did screw up, do what we tell kids to do.  Apologize, try to make it better, and move forward with new understanding and commitment to change.  We all make mistakes sometimes.  But if you were doing something reasonably benign and still it goes terribly, understand this:  we are not generous to make people happy.  We are generous to build connection.

When someone is hurtful about my generosity, I remind myself that maybe they’re in the middle of the struggle. I don’t feel bad about offering because I don’t know them as well as Forrest knows me – it’s an honest mistake. To hold on to my offense, though, is to deny that sometimes offering generosity is more about letting someone know that they’re not alone. If the point is connection, then offering generosity—even if it is grumpily rejected—has achieved that. They know I see them; I know they are aware of my willingness to help, and we both know the relationship is strong enough to withstand negative emotions.

Move forward in good faith and err on the side of generosity.