Open Handed Generosity

This talk was given at Cambridge Buddhist Centre, June 2018

Generosity is characteristic of Buddhists. It is one of the qualities that are immediately associated with Buddhism and the image of the monk with an alms bowl has been a symbol of the generosity of the Buddha’s disciples from the beginning. It is interesting to note that traditionally the monks don’t request alms; they are silent. In the Triratna Community and I suspect in many Western Buddhist groups the norm is to ask for donations ongoingly and to fundraise for particular projects. But really Buddhist generosity should not be in response to requests; it should ideally be a simple and continuous application of our ethical principles and a flow of time, energy and money in the direction of our heartfelt values. Giving is one of the key practices of any Buddhist and one of the delights of the spiritual community. I won't be going into why this is so here. Suffice to say that because we are all interconnected and interdependent, generosity is in our best interests.

All of us give and we probably do give continuously, but there is a very broad spectrum of generosity with no distinguishable end point. It is always possible to be more generous. However the fact that there is no limit to generosity doesn't mean there is no limit to our ability to be generous. Most of us have limits and the challenge for most of us is how to be a little more generous, how to step a little bit outside our comfort zone. There is, as I said, a broad spectrum and people will be at different points on the spectrum. A spectrum running from zero generosity to completely spontaneous, uninhibited, generosity.

 In his famous work A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens has created the archetypal miser, the fund-raisers nightmare, Mr. Scrooge. Here is a passage where Mr. Scrooge is approached by a couple of men raising money to help the poor at Christmas:
“They were portly gentlemen, pleasant to behold, and now stood, with their hats off, in Scrooge's office. They had books and papers in their hands, and bowed to him.
"Scrooge and Marley's, I believe," said one of the gentlemen, referring to his list. "Have I the pleasure of addressing Mr. Scrooge, or Mr. Marley?"
"Mr. Marley has been dead these seven years," Scrooge replied. "He died seven years ago, this very night."
"We have no doubt his liberality is well represented by his surviving partner," said the gentleman, presenting his credentials.
It certainly was; for they had been two kindred spirits. At the ominous word "liberality," Scrooge frowned, and shook his head, and handed the credentials back.
"At this festive season of the year, Mr. Scrooge," said the gentleman, taking up a pen, "it is more than usually desirable that we should make some slight provision for the Poor and Destitute, who suffer greatly at the present time. Many thousands are in want of common necessaries; hundreds of thousands are in want of common comforts, sir."
"Are there no prisons?" asked Scrooge.
"Plenty of prisons," said the gentleman, laying down the pen again.
"And the Union workhouses?" demanded Scrooge. "Are they still in operation?"
"They are. Still," returned the gentleman, "I wish I could say they were not."
"The Treadmill and the Poor Law are in full vigour, then?" said Scrooge.
"Both very busy, sir."
"Oh! I was afraid, from what you said at first, that something had occurred to stop them in their useful course," said Scrooge. "I'm very glad to hear it."
"Under the impression that they scarcely furnish Christian cheer of mind or body to the multitude," returned the gentleman, "a few of us are endeavouring to raise a fund to buy the Poor some meat and drink and means of warmth. We choose this time, because it is a time, of all others, when Want is keenly felt, and Abundance rejoices. What shall I put you down for?"
"Nothing!" Scrooge replied.
"You wish to be anonymous?"
"I wish to be left alone," said Scrooge. "Since you ask me what I wish, gentlemen, that is my answer. I don't make merry myself at Christmas and I can't afford to make idle people merry. I help to support the establishments I have mentioned -- they cost enough; and those who are badly off must go there."

We can put Mr. Scrooge at one end of the spectrum. He is fictional, but unfortunately he may have his counterparts in the real world. Then there are people like the Tibetan Lama mentioned by Sangharakshita in this story: “a friend of mine who was a lay Nyingmapa Buddhist, took me into Benares to see a Tibetan Lama – not an incarnate Lama, an ordinary monk – who was living there to learn Sanskrit. His name was Tendzing Gyaltso. He was over seventy. The Dalai Lama had wanted him to start teaching, but he had refused. He told the Dalai Lama that he was far too busy learning; he hadn’t finished his studies. So he settled in Benares to study Sanskrit. We found him at a place almost like a typical Hindu ashram. He had a little room at the top, but it was quite bare. He was sitting on the floor with a tin trunk in front of him which served as his desk and table, with just a little text on it which he was studying. He was very pleased to see me and we talked for about an hour. As we rose to depart, he said, “I really must give you something”. He looked around the room, but there was absolutely nothing. I could see that he was almost desperate. He had nothing but his mala, so he broke his mala and gave me one bead and said, “Please take this. I must have said many millions of mantras on it. It’s all I have to give you”. (Bodhisattva Ideal Mitrata 2, Altruism and Individualism in the Spiritual Life. Page 47)

Then there is the great American poet, Walt Whitman, whose activities during the Civil War were so Bodhisattva-like. One of his biographers writes: “From December 1862 until well after the war was over, he personally visited tens of thousands of hurt, lonely, and scared young men in the hospitals in and around Washington, bringing them the ineffable but not inconsiderable gift of his magnetic, consoling presence. In the process, he lost forever his own good health, beginning a long decline that would leave him increasingly enfeebled for the rest of his life. To his credit, he never regretted his wartime service, or what it had cost him personally. ``I only gave myself,'' he told a friend. ``I got the boys.'' And more to the point, they got him. Whitman entered the rank, fever-ridden hospitals in the nation's capital like a literal breath of fresh air, bringing with him a knapsack full of humble but much-appreciated gifts: fruit, candy, clothing, tobacco, books, magazines, pencils, and paper. His long white beard, wine-colored suit, and bulging bag of presents gave him a decided resemblance to Santa Claus, and the wounded soldiers, many of them still in their teens, called after him plaintively at the end of each visit: ``Walt, Walt, come again!'' Except for a six month period in late 1864 when he was forced to return home to Brooklyn to regain his health, he did come again, scarcely missing a day on his self-appointed rounds.” (The Better Angel, Walt Whitman in the Civil War, Roy Morris.)
“Whitman provided an invaluable service to thousands of wounded and sick soldiers merely by being their friend. He would bring small gifts, sit by their beds and listen to them speak of their homes, their hopes, and their fears. He would also write letters for those who were unable to do so, lend a gentle hand to hold, and even provide that last, tender moment of human contact that so many of the dying needed.” https://bobcivilwarhistory.wordpress.com/2012/01/13/walt-whitman-the-better-angel.

In Buddhism we have the ideal of the Bodhisattva who seeks to Awaken for the sake of self and others. Indeed this has been the goal of Buddhism from the beginning as suggested by the Buddha here : "Of two people who practice the Dhamma in line with the Dhamma, having a sense of Dhamma, having a sense of meaning — one who practices for both his own benefit and that of others, and one who practices for his own benefit but not that of others — the one who practices for his own benefit but not that of others is to be criticized for that reason, the one who practices for both his own benefit and that of others is, for that reason, to be praised.” (Anguttara Nikaya 7.68)

The spectrum of Generosity can run all the way from Mr. Scrooge to Awakening. Maybe we could call it the Scrooge-Bodhisattva Spectrum! I imagine most of us are quite a long way from the Scrooge end of the spectrum and that is important to acknowledge. When it comes to Dharma practice (or indeed any undertaking) it’s good to acknowledge and appreciate what we already have in place. We are not starting from zero. We are building on a foundation of existing qualities, activities and aspirations. Our task then is not to become generous but simply to practise generosity more and more. Practising generosity also involves letting go of various attachments and generating a sense of abundance in our lives. One way we could approach this is to look at what gets in the way of being more generous and what steps we can take to overcome our resistances or hindrances. We are probably all familiar with the hindrances to meditation and we could think of these as states of consciousness which are obstacles to all Dharma practice, including the spontaneous flow of open handed generosity.

Restlessness (auddhatya) and anxiety (kaukrtya) together constitute a state of mind that is always worried about security and in constant need of stimulation and pleasure to keep worry at bay. Life is uncertain and cannot be controlled, but we desperately want to control life and create certainty. Restlessness is characterised by energy and its’ positive counterpart is virya, energy in pursuit of the good. Anxiety or, as Subhuti refers to it in Mind in Harmony, “a troubled mind” also has a positive counterpart, remorse. Restlessness can be transformed into joy, inspiration and positive energy and anxiety can be transformed into a recognition of the consequences of actions. How do we bring about this kind of transformation? We can cultivate a sense of abundance and a delight in the beauty that is always around us. We could take time each day to remind ourselves of the things we have enjoyed, whether that is a meeting with a friend or flowers in the park or the laughter of children. The more we remind ourselves of what is enjoyable and beautiful in our lives the more we will notice and appreciate beauty and pleasure everywhere. This leads to a more expansive state of consciousness which very naturally expresses itself in generosity.

The hindrance of sense desire or craving is all about wanting to possess and hold on to objects or people that we think will bring us happiness or to bolster our sense of who we are,our identity. This state of mind is very much focussed on our own satisfaction and it is basically an attempt to avoid suffering. When we crave an object or person we focus intently on the positive aspects and completely ignore the actual or potential negative aspects. This is what happens when we fall in love, isn’t it? We bore our friends with how wonderful and amazing this person is …. It could be a new car or smart phone that we go on about. In this way we are always setting ourselves up for disappointment. If this is our tendency we need to bring in a reflection on what is really in our best interests. What do we really desire? What are we projecting on to the things and people we want to possess and cling to? It may be that doing the Metta Bhavana and cultivating friendship will alleviate some of the more extreme forms of craving. We may also need to engage with the natural world and the arts to find higher sources of pleasure that have the effect of calming the mind. Contentment is the opposite of craving and contentment is a very positive state of mind that is easily satisfied, prefers simplicity, and is not overly attached to things or people. When we are contented it is very easy to be generous and concerned with the welfare of others. If we have been on a retreat we may have experienced how satisfying and pleasurable it is to be contented. Being contented feels joyful and a joyful mind is expansive and generous.

Doubt and indecision can get in the way of being generous too. We may always have second thoughts about whether to give and how much to give and whether what we are giving to is really worthwhile or whether our giving will make any difference and all of that will put us into a state of indecision which may never be resolved. Second thoughts are often less generous thoughts, self-protective thoughts, that gradually turn off the tap of our generous impulses until the flow becomes a trickle and the trickle becomes nothing. We need to be clear about our values, what we value most in life and allow our energy to flow after our values. If we are indecisive we may need to act impulsively sometimes and just give. Generosity is also a training and can be a practice like meditation, something we do every day which has the effect of changing our mental states and gradually modifying our habitual personality. It could be argued that generosity is a more important practice than meditation because meditation can so easily become a self-centred activity that is ego-making, whereas generosity is always moving beyond self and has the potential to lead to ever greater self-transcendence, which is what Buddhism is all about.

The hindrance to meditation that is often referred to as ‘sloth and torpor’ is perhaps not as straightforward as that phrase might suggest, but here I am going to take it to mean a dull, passive, forgetful, unaware state of mind. In relation to generosity this would mean not noticing what is needed or forgetting immediately. We might have good intentions but never follow through into action. The antidote to this would be mindfulness and promptitude. These hindrances overlap in the sense that they are all egotistical and self-centred, so the ways of countering them can be very similar. And here in the case of ‘sloth and torpor’ some of the ways of dealing with the other hindrances will be applicable again.

The fifth hindrance is illwill and in relation to generosity this indicates what could be called a curmudgeonly attitude. Mr. Scrooge is literatures’ prime example of this miserly attitude. In some ways this is like the behaviour of a small child who doesn’t want to share his or her toys with the other children. Why should I? It’s mine? The adult might add, I worked for it? I need it? Often at the bottom of illwill or miserliness is some fear or insecurity. This is a psychological issue and if it’s a serious case the only solution may be therapy of some kind. Interestingly though, Mr. Scrooge is cured by the more spiritual process of having a vision of the consequences of his actions and attitudes. With all of these obstacles to the free flow of generosity it may be helpful to reflect on the positive consequences of generosity as well as the negative consequences of limiting or crushing our spirit of generosity.

At the beginning I mentioned the Scrooge - Bodhisattva Spectrum, but of course this is not very fair to Mr. Scrooge who in the end becomes a very generous character indeed. He is capable of change and we are all capable of change. Mr. Scrooge could change because miserly as he was the seeds of generosity were nevertheless in his heart and we can change and grow because the seeds of generosity have already sprouted in our hearts. We only need to nurture them and in time there will be a flowering of the Bodhi heart which will make us forget all about being generous, as generosity will be as natural to us as breathing. At the end of A Christmas Carol, Dickens says of Scrooge “His own heart laughed and that was quite enough for him”. May all of our hearts learn to laugh like the heart of the transformed Scrooge.