In last week’s Friday class, we explored something simple yet deeply revealing: what happens when you are given something, without asking for it. I handed out pieces of fruit to everyone and asked: How does it feel to receive?
The first answers came quickly. Strange. Suspicious. Why is he giving this?
That initial hesitation opened the door to a bigger question: Do we ever really receive freely, or do we immediately feel the weight of giving something back?
Transactions and expectations
In much of Western culture, relationships are built on transactions. We are conditioned to think: If I receive, I must repay. Psychology names this dynamic in Social Exchange Theory, the idea that most of our interactions are based on give and take.
Yet, there is another side. Altruism suggests giving can be unconditional, from the heart, with no expectation of return. But is pure giving possible? Or is there always some hidden motive, recognition, gratitude, a warm feeling for ourselves?
Even research shows that generosity boosts wellbeing for both giver and receiver. In Self-Determination Theory, giving feels best when it is a free choice, not an obligation. A simple act of kindness can make both sides happier. But still, the question lingers—am I giving to serve, or am I giving to feel good about myself?
The wisdom of traditions
Our class also reflected on how ancient texts describe giving.
- In the Bhagavad Gita, three modes of giving are described:
- Sattvic giving—done freely, at the right time, to the right person, without expectation.
- Rajasic giving—done reluctantly, or with a desire for recognition.
- Tamasic giving—done at the wrong time, disrespectfully, or in a way that causes harm.
The Gospel of Matthew adds another layer: “When you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing.” Giving in secret, without seeking praise, keeps it pure. Yet even this can be tricky, sometimes the ego enjoys appearing humble, unnoticed but still hoping to be noticed.
In Buddhism, generosity is called the first perfection. To give loosens our attachments and opens the heart. And across traditions, the reminder is the same: the spirit in which we give matters more than the gift itself.
Everyday stories
One student shared how they used to exhaust themselves trying to track down the exact snacks a friend’s daughter liked, fearing they’d let someone down if they failed. With time, they realised that true giving doesn’t need to come from fear or pressure, it can be as simple as buying a box of sweets with joy and sending them along.
Another story reminded us that even nature teaches giving. Trees bear fruit freely, asking nothing in return, though humans often exploit without replenishing. To honour giving is also to give back, to plant, to nourish, to balance.
And sometimes the greatest gift isn’t money or possessions, but time. A child in our circle put it perfectly: “The easiest thing to give is time.”
Ego, service, and balance
There is also a danger in over-giving. The story of King Bali in Indian tradition illustrates this. Famous for generosity, his downfall came from pride in his ability to give anything. When Lord Vamana (Vishnu in the form of a boy) asked for just three steps of land, those steps expanded to cover the entire universe, crushing Bali’s ego. The lesson: giving must come with humility, not self-inflation.
Likewise, in our lives, giving should not leave us in debt, drained, or resentful. To give when it harms your own family’s wellbeing is giving at the wrong time. Balance and discernment are part of generosity.
The heart of the matter
So where does this leave us?
- Giving can come from fear, obligation, or ego.
- Giving can also come from love, joy, and faith.
- Receiving, too, is part of the cycle. It takes humility to accept without suspicion, without the itch to repay.
Perhaps the real practice is not to over-analyse every gift, but to let giving and receiving soften us. When done with awareness, generosity becomes service. And service, in turn, deepens connection.
As we closed the class, I was reminded of something simple: giving is our nature. When children first learn to share, before the idea of “mine” develops, giving flows naturally. The challenge for us as adults is to return to that openness—not out of fear, not for recognition, but for the joy of it.