Reframing the Way I Practice Philanthropy

I may not be able to aid with financial support, but there are other ways to help the world

Every year, I like to complete a series of journal prompts to help me get clear about my goals and intentions. And every year, I get a little stuck on one particular prompt: Giving Goals.

I have always had very high aspirations for giving. I immediately think of giving hundreds (or better yet, thousands) to my favorite environmental and social justice nonprofits. I dream of giving year-end bonuses to people in need. I dream of buying my sister a new car so she doesn’t have to drive her six kids around town in a car that barely functions.

But like many, there’s not a lot to go around when it comes to my bank account. That statement is not meant to highlight lack because I am certainly not lacking. I’m extremely privileged and blessed. I live in a first world nation, I own my own house, my pantry is always full, and I get to work as a freelancer. I have a lot more than many people around the world, and I’m grateful for that every single day.

Cash, however, is not always available to me, or to many who live in towns like mine, where inflated housing costs commandeer 55–65% of one’s monthly income. Many of us are just paying the bills and can’t imagine being able to follow the spiritual or social aspiration to tithe 10% of one’s income to a worthy cause.

That’s certainly not a reality for me at this time (though I have faith it will be one day).

So when I open my journal and work on these prompts, I find myself frozen, filled with a sense of guilt and a touch of disappointment. And year after year, aside from giving away $5 here and $10 there, with no real plan behind it, I find myself instead giving up on the idea of setting a giving goal.

A few years ago, I decided that I had to let go of my extremely limiting idea of what a giving goal should be. I threw away the confining 10% tithe and decided it was time to think outside the box.

I already make an effort to give of my time and love, especially to my family. That’s something that nourishes my soul, and, I hope, theirs, as well. What if my giving goal could include the letters and gifts I leave in the little Owl Post mailbox outside my nieces’ and nephews’ front door? Or a goal to spend some quality time with each of them, one-on-one? It’s not a tithing of money to a good cause, but is, nonetheless, an opportunity to expand my generosity.

Taking time to engage in national and community issues is another giving goal that’s emerging for me. As an introvert, I tend to lean inward but I think it’s important to put time and effort into building and maintaining a strong community (both locally and as a country). For me, that goal looks like not just writing my representatives more often, but engaging on the phone (a challenge for me). It means attending volunteer events within my community. And it means calling my neighbors, shoveling the snow in their driveway, bringing them soup, and taking care of the people within my immediate vicinity.

As I started building this list of giving goals, I discovered more and more giving opportunities organically arise — things that were exceptionally specific opportunities that would allow me to challenge my perceptions of lack. For example, I had a stash of supplies from my days as a bath and body shop owner worth at least $200. Closing my business was a hard step in my life and I held on to those supplies out of sentimentality. But eventually, I came to realize that I could bless someone else by passing those supplies on — for free. So I donated them to a local Native American woman who owns an herbal business and teaches classes that pass along the indigenous traditions of her ancestors.

Suddenly, facing the closing of my business didn’t feel like a loss. It became expansive and abundant — a huge blessing to another person. And maybe even a blessing to myself, to be able to let go of those items in such a loving, positive way.

What if there were other ways to recycle my pain into another person’s blessing? After having to give up my home when my partner left a couple years ago, I came to realize that I could gift some of the items I made for that home (table mats, decorative pillows, etc.) to someone else, making their home more beautiful and cozy. And so I passed all those items along to friends who needed such items.

I now give some of my time to the teenagers I used to work with, writing them letters of recommendation, making time for them when they need career or college guidance, and even keeping standing meet-ups with them a few times a year. It’s not tithing, but I know the time, care, and support I give them might be even more valuable than money given to a nonprofit.

For the first time in years, I am excited about my giving goals. I’m no longer stuck in my self-made prison that defined giving as 10% tithing, or even occasional cash donations.

Now I’m looking for those very specific moments that are literally waiting for me to notice the opportunity to give. Those things that come into my life that need me to use them as a blessing for someone else. Those very particular qualities I have that will benefit others.

I feel no more guilt when I hear the phrase “giving goals.” It’s a game now, asking myself what treasures I can unearth to benefit another.

This act, miraculously becomes a gift to myself, as well.

© Yael Wolfe 2020