Generous or what?

I must admit I'm not an especially generous person. I'm not in the habit of giving loans, giving sandwiches to homeless people, paying for someone else's groceries, volunteering at a food bank, helping someone move house, or just giving things away.

On the other hand I'm generous in other ways. I often give large tips to restaurant servers and cabbies and hairdressers, I give clothes and books to charity, I give money to charity, and I've given blood 33 times. So I'm not all bad.

Of course generosity is a slippery concept, and depends very much on the context. If a billionaire gives a sandwich to a homeless person, that's not exactly generous because the billionaire has nothing to lose. But if someone desperately poor gives the sandwich, that's generosity in spades.

Generosity can also take subtle and invisible forms we tend to overlook. Like taking the time to listen to someone who's in distress, or being tactful about someone's awful cooking or hideous haircut, or guiding someone out of a tight parking space.

And generosity can mean not just giving something but waiving something. Like cancelling a debt or letting a flat rent-free or not charging for a bit of professional advice (not that I've ever been the recipient of such gestures, sorry to say).

I could resolve to be more generous, but I don't think it's something you can just switch on. I think it's something that comes naturally, maybe with generous parents or generous friends showing the way.

Anyway, what about all the fascinating and thought-inspiring posts I've churned out in the last 16 years. Isn't that a magnificent act of generosity?

Greed

I have many failings, but greed isn't one of them. I tend to be content with what I have and not forever wondering how I can get even more.

It's an odd trait, when everyone around me seems to be piling up possessions as if their lives depend on it. Why I'm immune I don't know.

Perhaps it's because I always see the practicalities of wild longings. If I see a huge country mansion, I don't think I'd like to own it. I just think of the colossal maintenance it must need simply to keep it in repair.

When I read about billionaires, I don't covet those vast hoards of cash. I imagine all the begging letters, all the relatives itching to get their hands on it, and the headache of keeping track of where it all is.

I hear of people who have 500 pairs of shoes or 20 cars and I'm just bemused. Why on earth would anyone want all these things? I've never owned excessive amounts of anything, only what I need or what gives me a bit of pleasure.

I've never had this strange urge to keep adding and adding and adding to what I already have. In fact I have more of an urge to subtract things, to get rid of stuff I don't need that just annoys me and clutters the place up.

I don't believe luxury is the pinnacle of existence either. I take all those images of pampered lifestyles, full of limos, uniformed flunkeys and opulent furnishings, with a large pinch of salt. Behind the glittering facades there's plenty of hidden tension and personal angst. You can buy all the thick-pile carpets you like, but it won't guarantee happiness or peace of mind.

Greed is a luxury I can do without.