Tales of Uncle George
by Anna Koska
When I was growing up there was a rather tired, well worn phrase that would often slip from adults’ mouths; it was particularly prevalent around the time of birthdays and Christmases. It actually makes me feel a little depressed thinking about it as it always seemed to herald the possibility of disappointment:
It’s better to give than receive
WHY this might be the truth was never really explained. I mean, as a child the thrill of receiving and opening a present felt pretty wonderful indeed. So this damp squib of a saying was confusing at best. What was the motivation behind it, that every parent felt honour bound to deliver it with such regularity?
Well, it could be simply that no one likes a grabby, self centred child.
Also the chances are it would reflect rather poorly on the parents if that child went around whining for a pony, a new bike or the latest toy. All religious connotations aside (tempting as it is) it was better to be seen as the giving sort. And it went hand in hand with other pat phrases with a similar bent perhaps intended to guide one towards a more humble and less demanding demeanour and approach towards life. To not expect too much out of it, to be satisfied with less.
Of course, this frugal approach to life is to be admired; I suspect that it was one that garnered a lot of support particularly in times of war when there was rationing and intense hardship. And it’s still as relevant today, particularly now during this time of immense uncertainty and fear as this virus sweeps across our world.
There’s also the more karmic reasoning of generosity begets generosity. And I believe this can be so.
But the truth is, that to be discouraged from expecting ‘too much’ out of life can perhaps leave one listless and sapped of the necessary energy and enthusiasm to aspire to dream of something different, new, braver.
Last week, my Uncle George passed away
{and before you wonder, it wasn’t COVID}.
He was an extraordinary man who lived life, and loved life, and he dearly wanted for all he met to be able to do the same. To that end pretty much every adventure he planned (and there were lots), he endeavoured to involve as many of us as possible. If there were hurdles to overcome, (time, circumstance, financial, perhaps) he would do everything to push them aside and make it possible for all to join in.
He was generous without limits.
I think that to be generous, to be a giver if you like, you’re showing someone it’s possible to be, have, feel, or experience something better than they imagined.
Generosity delivers with it a confidence that situations can improve.
I believe that George was responsible for many of us in my family becoming far bolder with our choices in life, both personal and career-wise.
To be a deliverer of even the smallest moments of such magic is something I think we all relish, unconsciously or otherwise; to witness the effect that it has is incredibly life affirming. To see someone winning as a result… well it resonates in your heart.
