Give a Little Bit

I recently read a book called Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants by Robin Wall Kimmerer (thank you, Isa, for the recommendation!). In it, the author mixes poetry, science, and personal anecdotes to describe what different species of plants mean to her; how they have shaped her view of the world and her place in it. Though the language used is a bit more ~flowery~ than what I usually read, the central theme of reciprocity—how the earth gives, how we take, and how we give back–is a message that resonates deeply with me. 

The book gives examples of this concept on both environmental and social levels. She talks about the give-and-take between all parts of her life–how gratitude and balance make it work; how their opposites make it stressful. 

I think I have always been partial to this kind of gift economy. When I was in middle and high school, I was known among my circle as The Mom Friend because I was always trying to take care of my people. I’d carry around a big purse full of band-aids, hand cream, vice grips, and granola bars, just in case anyone needed anything (you’d be surprised how often you need vice grips). When we’d go to restaurants, I’d unconsciously read the menu to my friends and ask penetrating questions to help us all decide what to order, as if they couldn’t do that on their own. 

I learned about communes once in a church sermon–how the apostle Paul encouraged Christians to live by giving to their neighbors from their abundance and receiving in kind. This fueled my innate socialist leanings and formed the basis of my favorite saying in high school–“Jesus was a communist”–which elicited some raised eyebrows and frowns from my church elders. 

Now, I don’t know what political party Jesus might fancy and I’ve since grown apart from the church. I’ve stopped lugging around emergency cotton swabs and doing my parents’ taxes. Even so, I still have a strong desire to take care of people. This often rings to the tune of meal preparation, activity planning, and party hosting; if there’s some heavy lifting or home renovation you need done, I’m also sure to be the first at your door. 

I think, too, that the people I end up calling My People turn out to be the sort with this general M.O. It’s come up a lot lately during my last several weeks of trips to visit friends and family. While we were away from home, Jamie and I were in need of lodging, food, and good company, all of which were generously and enthusiastically provided. Beyond that, you all supply me with joy, adventure, and hot goss on the regular, and many of you are planning inconvenient and expensive trips to come visit me this summer to (finally) celebrate my marriage (still weird to think that I’m married). 

As more and more of life becomes transactional and impersonal (shakes fists at those capitalist scum), I’m grateful to have friends and family to participate in a gift economy with. I hope to reciprocate all the gifts I have been given in the ways that I can–with spreadsheets and home cooked meals and phone calls and a never-expiring open invitation to the spare mattress in my living room. I hope you never fully settle your debts with me (Nikhil), and may I always owe you one.