Saturday, January 07, 2006

The Unseen Account

An interesting thing happened on the way to Starbucks today.
However, before I tell of it, I want to be very clear about something.

Right up front, I want to say that I have nothing against giving money to people that are on the street asking for money. I often do it. Rather, I am simply musing today on one specific aspect of giving money to [it is probably a politically incorrect term nowadays, but...] BEGGARS!
Here is what I saw.
I was walking down the street, on my way here for coffee.
Across from me, and a little ways ahead, a man was walking towards me, and he passed a beggar. A street person type, sitting cross-legged, holding a cup of some sort, asking for change.
The man passed by, stopped, dug in his pockets, turned back a few steps and dropped the man a few coins [I assume]. By now I was about level, across from them. The man walked on, as did I.
But I wondered. We have all done a similar thing as this man did, no doubt. We’ve seen someone asking for money, passed by, thought some thought, turned and gave the person some spare change.


My question today is: What is that thought?
What is it we say to ourself, that causes us to turn back and unload our pockets?

I once had a conversation with a co-worker about this very act of spontaneous generosity.
He asked me if I gave money to beggars.
I replied, “Most of the times, no. I do not.”
He said “I always do. Every time.”
I said to him, “You obviously do not go downtown very often.”
He lived in a little village, and even then, on the outside of the village. As for me, I live in the very downtown area of a city of one million people. Nearly every day, I walk around downtown. If I gave even a wee bit of change to every street person that asked it of me, I would be broke. And that is no exaggeration.
So I’ve learned to be fairly selective, even callous, in the voluntary emptying of my pockets.
The need that is everywhere evident on our streets, has long since ceased to amaze, shock, or surprise me.

You soon learn how to say "Sorry, bud" with nary a tug of conscience. The demand demands it!

So, back to my question.
What is it that the man today was probably saying to himself, as he turned back to the beggar?
Admittedly, it may have been merely the thought of being kind. Also, there may have been no thought involved whatsoever, nothing that could work itself out into an explanatory sentence.
But I am going to suggest the following. I think that very often the thought that accompanies the streetside donation goes along these lines:
“I don’t ever want to end up like that... so...” [clink, clink, clink].....

This is mysticism.
Or perhaps the thought is something like: “If I myself were ever in that position, I would want someone to stop and...” [yadda, yadda...]
Again. It is mysticism.
And here is why it is mysticism. It seems to me that such thoughts suggest that in the action of anonymous giving, in the action of charity, we are sowing into some sort of unseen account. And this account is directly linked to future possibilities in our own life.


In the first imaginary self-talk [above] the person is subtly suggesting to themself that if they give the beggar money, this will somehow improve their own chances of never being a beggar. Does it follow then that the best way for the beggar to advance out of his current state is to turn to someone worse off than him and give his donation away?
Ipso facto, if I don’t give.... I might “end up like that.”

Is the world [is life] really orchestrated on such a cause-and-effect karmic scale?
Is the beggar in question a beggar because he did not give to others when he could have?
Are not some of the world's wealthiest people also the most uncharitable?

Now, the second sort of self-talk is similar, yet subtly different.
It reminds me of something I read recently in a short story by Margaret Atwood.
In The Sunrise [from the book, Bluebeard’s Egg] Yvonne wanders into a dingy place called The Donut Centre where she has a coffee. She leaves a tip because, as Atwood tells us, “She’s considerate of waitresses because she never wants to be one again.”
Ah hah!
There it is.

The very thing, the very mysticism I am trying to nail down here.
We do these kinds of things, I know we do.
As though Yvonne, if she leaves the restaurant without tipping, is being dangerous with this unseen account I am referring to. As though the leaving of this tip is some sort of insurance premium, paid against ever needing it!
Who is in charge of the balancing of this account?
Even if it is “God”.... still, it requires an incredible amount of mysticism to maintain that belief.

So, to recap. Don’t get me wrong. I am not at all saying that we should not give to those who ask it of us. Furthermore, I would say that it is almost always a good thing for us to help others in this way, when we can. [The exceptions being when our donation, in effect, helps the other person harm themself. If my two dollars is going to help someone buy more turpentine to drink, both of us would be better off with the two dollars staying nice and warm in my pocket].
I am simply noting how that perfectly rational people in every other respect, can have moments of fleeting mysticism, and be unaware of it.
It intrigues me.


Mysticism: belief in the spiritual apprehension of truths that are beyond the understanding.

*********

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Living in Toronto, I see a lot of homeless people during my travels, begging for money. Like you, I choose to be selective, because otherwise, I'd be on the street, too. For example, I won't give to people who are smoking, or drunk. Or people who have their cute little dogs sitting next to them (unless of course, it's a seeing-eye dog). I'm also wary of giving money to healthy young teenagers who are wearing more expensive running shoes than myself.

But when I do give out change, why do I do it? Probably those answers you listed, but there's another reason, that's hard to put into words. I've lived in this city for 16 years, and I know that I have become hardened to certain aspects of city life. It is draining, exhausting, heart-breaking to see so many tragic, lonely lost souls day after day. I also give because I am terrified that one day I will walk by one of these people and not feel anything at all.

Anonymous said...

I'm reminded of Donne's Meditation 17: "No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were."

Donne is contemplating how we might respond to the tolling of the bells that signal someone's death in this passage. But underlying it all is an essential question of how much connectedness and responsibility we feel toward one another simply as human beings - whether down and out or living the rich life - isn't it?

As always, interesting thoughts, cipriano.

Cipriano said...

Really insightful comments from everyone here.
Thank you for reading my Saturday babblings.
C

Jenn said...

Interesting thoughts. I have given to people who seem extraordinarly helpless. I feel sad and thank God I am not in that person's situation. I am only in the city as a tourist though.

I love the scene in Groundhog Day when he gives the old man everything in his wallet!