A Life of Dana: 5 Ways to Make Generosity a Lifelong Practice

Receiving this sweet gift from a dear friend that made my heart somersault 
I LOVE MAPS!


Last week, I reached the one year milestone of A Year of Dana since I left my job.  

Today, I am a very different person. In many ways, I am unrecognizable to myself, yet I know I'm on the path of returning home.  I attribute a large part of this transformation to the practice of dana. 

Dana (pronounced dah-nah), is a Pali word for generosity, which is the foundation upon which other important qualities like patience and wisdom are built. From my intentional practice of generosity, I realize, I want to live a life of dana, not just a brief year. I want the practice of generosity to be fully integrated into the way I experience life everyday. Generosity is a way of being through the acts of giving and receiving. It is not a one way practice. It can be learned and trained over time with intentionality. Here are 5 ways to make generosity a lifelong practice. 

1. Give fully to yourself without harboring guilt 

Many of us, especially from Asian households prioritizing the collective good, are taught that giving to ourselves is selfish. Most of my life, giving to myself has always come with deep guilt internally (and externally!). Whether it be buying something material, taking space away from family, investing in nontraditional education, or enjoying a vacation. Giving to myself meant not being able to take care of others. I've had to flip that story upside down. Now, giving to myself means tending to my being in such a way that actually expands my capacity to be there for others. I've learned to temper the guilt by being friendly with it and then letting it go. I'm giving to myself unabashedly these days and it feels so damn nourishing. This inner nourishment then makes giving to others a more joyful practice. 

2. Give knowing your true motivation 

It's important to be clear and honest about why I'm giving. Is it because I'm trying to please? To impress? To match another's gift? To meet social pressures and expectations? To do so because it's just the thing to do? Or am I giving because there's a sincere energy to it? Because it may make another really happy? Because it is a thoughtful gesture? Because it's going to a good cause? I've developed a discernment around what's at the root of my generous action. I have also accepted the true nature of giving - that I do it because it brings me joy, too. And that's all good. Having this clarity makes the practice of giving feel more easeful where it can sometimes hold a lot of inner tension.  

3. Give from an abundant heart 

Giving freely has required a reconditioning of my scarcity mindset -- the belief that all things are limited. We're trained by capitalism to believe that time, energy, money, and even love are going to run out. That we need to hoard these things. It's simply not true. We cannot fear losing what we have. We must be okay with loss and trust that even if we lose something, something else will arrive. As we give, more will come. This is the abundant heartset. 

4. Receive generosity with grace and presence

Receiving has been my greatest growth edge. As a helper type, I tend to shirk opportunities to receive kindness from others because at the core of my challenge is a feeling of unworthiness. I used to believe I was not deserving of things -- kind words, material gifts, a helping hand. This past year, I have practiced receiving with a slow presence that allows me to see my discomfort with it and then to respond mindfully and gracefully. I started to see that receiving love openly and fully is an equally generous act. So the next time someone tries to give you a compliment or a little gift, gently squash your need to say "nooooo" or "don't worry about it," and instead, slow down, look them in the eyes, smile, and say thank you. It is that simple. 

5. Ask for help mindfully and directly, yet without expectation 

Most my life I have been scared to ask for help - from the tiniest things to the larger needs with even my closest beloveds. Part of it is fear of rejection. Part of it is my ego wanting to do it myself. Part of it is the illusion of efficiency ("I can do this faster myself"). Part of it is not wanting to "owe" anyone anything. Part of it is not wanting to feel like a burden. I didn't realize that not asking for help could actually shortcut a creative process, take away another's ability to contribute, or prevent deeper connection with another.  Asking for help is really a practice of vulnerability because we're required to put ourselves out there to show that we need others. The truth is, we do need others, and accepting this is important to living joyful and sustainable lives. We are not meant to do things alone. 

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