A Penny Pincher's Nightmare

When I started my “Weekly Gifts” at the beginning of this year to help explore this year’s theme of generosity, I had intended to give money, or at least to spend money on gifts. But, then life happened: my husband got laid off, a sizable medical bill, a fender bender, and near empty business coffers because of my time spent book-writing.

So, instead I have explored non-material gifts I can give: time, attention, service, knowledge, presence.

I hate to admit it, but I’ve been secretly relieved.

The idea of giving away money freaks me out. My little inner scarcity goblin grabs my stash, clenches tight, and snarls at anyone who might come close. It is precisely because of this fear—this small, tight, mean fear—that I made the goal to be more generous.

Now my family’s financial challenges are starting to ease, and I have to ask myself how long I will pinch my pennies.

I think up all sorts of excuses not to give: My house’s cracked windows need to be replaced! We’re not saving enough for retirement! Billionaires should be giving their money away! Why should I be expected to solve structural problems of inequity?!

I think about writer Anne Lamott, who said, “I know that if I feel any deprivation or fear [about money], the solution is to give. The solution is to go find some mothers on the streets of San Raphael and give them tens and twenties and mail off another $50 to Doctors Without Borders to use for the refugees in Kosovo. Because I know that giving is the way we can feel abundant. Giving is the way that we fill ourselves up.”

And, indeed, nearly everything I’ve been reading about generosity this year says that we find a sense of abundance and freedom through giving.

Some of the more woo-woo manifesty books make an even stronger claim: whatever you give gets returned to you—in kind. If you are generous with your knowledge and expertise, you will get ever more knowledge and expertise. If you are generous with money, you will receive more money.

Of course, my Protestant upbringing tells me that, even if this is true, (and I’m not sure it is), such motivations are impure. I should just want to give more so that I can be a “good person.”

But, as I am learning, I feel most aligned with generosity not because it makes me a “good person” (which is exhausting), but because it makes for deeper and stronger communities. When I give to local organizations and to those who support the values I believe in, I create and deepen bonds of meaning, reciprocity, and connection.

And perhaps, in the end, the money will come back around, like George Bailey at the end of It’s a Wonderful Life, who stares astonished at the heaps of cash that all his friends and neighbors he’s helped over the years give back to him in his time of need.

Maybe not. But it seems worth doing anyway.

How do you feel about giving away money?

Weekly Gifts

This year I’m working on my theme of Generosity by giving at least one gift every week of the year, and to chronicle and reflect on them here.

Week 24, Jun 10-16: ‘Tis the season of picnics and barbecues, and I went to a couple this week with bean salads, seltzer waters, and watermelon in tow. Offerings for the summertime bounty.

Week 25, Jun 17-23: We hosted my daughter’s closest school friend’s family for dinner. Getting to know them feels like a gift to my daughter and a way to build her—and our—sense of community.

Week 26, Jun 24-30: I stood up and gave a public compliment to a new friend at a women’s networking event, recommending her services to everyone in the room. I suppose that was a kind of gift, and it was one I was excited to give.

Week 27, Jul 1-7: I sat down with a friend and colleague to help her brainstorm some ways to get unstuck on a business problem. Even though it felt effortless and fun for me, she said it was incredibly helpful and thanked me for it.

Week 28, Jul 8-14: Back in March, I went to a meditation retreat that moved something deep inside me. I had planned to donate some money to the teacher afterward, but it was the height of my financial woes. I finally made the donation this week.


Danielle LaSusa Ph.D. is a Philosophical Coach, helping new moms grapple with what it means to make a person. She is the creator of The Meaning of Motherhood course, which explores the changes in identity, meaning, and wisdom that come with motherhood. To join her mailing list, subscribe here.

© Copyright Danielle LaSusa PhD, LCC, 2021. All rights reserved.