The Gift that Keeps on Giving

Before my fiftieth birthday I spent fifty days cataloging daily gratitudes. These ranged from simple pleasures, like a great cup of tea or a beautiful sunset, to deeper acknowledgements, such as the passage of time and the reality of grief. I also found joy in unexpected moments, particularly in random interactions with strangers, which for some reason I found grounding and delightful. During this time, I also read The Book of Delights by Ross Gay. His poetry, rich with observation and humour, brought ordinary moments to life and encouraged me to discover these moments of my own. It was a fruitful fifty days.

The following month, I explored the concept of "enoughness," partly as an act of resistance of the pre-Christmas and Black Friday sales urging me to acquire more. I realized that while gratitude required active engagement, "enoughness" felt more of a praxis—a mode of being, a posture of contentment and fullness. Gratitude helped me recognize and name what was already present in my life and this reminded me that, while the culture might tell me differently, I have enough, I do enough and I am enough. I came to understand more deeply the meaning behind the phrase “Enough is a Feast,” and I discovered that when I can recognize the “enoughness” of my life, I am able to see the abundance and overflow within it. 

As December arrived, my thoughts naturally turned to gift-giving, and I've been reflecting on the theme of generosity. Here’s what I’ve noticed: when I feel full and aware of all the goodness in my life, generosity flows effortlessly. I want to share, to give, and to extend my gratitude outward. But when I’m stressed or worried—particularly in this season of all the Christmas extras—it becomes much harder to let that generosity flow. The truth is, I love giving at this time of year. I love finding a great gift for someone, making meaningful donations to thoughtful organizations, and doing random acts of kindness as an Advent practice. Radical generosity is something I dream of! Wouldn’t it be amazing to be able to buy someone a home? I feel excited and alive participating in the exchange of both giving and receiving. But, then something unexpected happens— like my car bumper gets smashed— and suddenly, the enthusiasm for generosity begins to shrink, and I feel part of myself closing off.

What I truly desire is to live in the freedom and flow of gratitude, enoughness, and generosity at all times. These are the waters I long to swim in—where giving, receiving, and sharing feel natural and unforced. I don’t want to have to exercise my mind, trying to push through worry or fear, or fight the urge to grip tightly to what I have. I want to keep my hands and heart open, and be fully alive in this flow, welcoming and holding space for all of it. This, to me, is what it means to live a life of abundance.

But why is it so hard to stay there?

While I long to swim in the waters of abundance, I realize that, if I play with the analogy a bit, there’s a tendency for me to get caught up in a different current. It’s as if an undertow pulls me into more tumultuous waters—where I become anxious, cynical, and judgmental. Maybe it’s my inner wiring—my personality, my perspective, or unresolved areas that need healing—that causes me to drift off course. But there’s also the consistent cultural messaging, full of fear and scarcity, which draws me into these rough and unfriendly waters. When I start to notice that I’m swimming—or even feel like I’m drowning—in the wrong waters, there are a few things I can do. First, I offer myself compassion. This act of self-generosity encourages me to stop flailing and reminds me to flip onto my back, catch my breath, and gain my bearings. From there, I can tap into the power of what seems like a secret strength, what I might call my “swim strokes”—gratitude, enoughness and generosity. Regularly engaging in these practices and mindsets help me build the muscle I need to stay the course, and through grace and repetition lead me back to that sense of abundance.

Maybe it’s unrealistic, but I’d love to never struggle with thoughts of lack or a scarcity mindset. I want to be so generous in spirit that it naturally spills over into everything I do, and I become at one with the flow of giving and receiving.

But I’m human, so for now, it’s all practice. As Dora would say, “Just keep swimming, just keep swimming.” One moment of gratitude, one "stroke" of generosity at a time. And it’s not just about giving money, but it can be. Paying for someone’s groceries or buying a surprise present for someone is amazing. But, it’s also about giving my time to be a good listener when a friend needs it. It’s about offering to help someone declutter their garage or clean up their property. It’s about sending a text to tell a friend that I am thinking about them. The beautiful thing is that generosity is generative. It creates a ripple effect. It is the gift that keeps on giving. Generosity begets generosity. And through this, we help each other return to and stay in those good waters, where giving, sharing, ease, abundance, and gratitude flow freely.

This feels like the greatest gift of all.