190 – Leaping Beyond Fear of Rejection: Giving the Gift of Self

The gift of self – such as our time, attention, energy, enthusiasm, perspective, sympathy, and creativity brightens the lives of everyone around us. Although the self is “empty” of inherent, enduring self-essence, it is all we have to offer the world. Unfortunately, many of us are very inhibited when it comes to sharing ourselves. We fear rejection, judgment, disinterest, and embarrassment. We figure no one particularly appreciates or needs our contribution. Fortunately, we can make a practice of offering ourselves open-handedly, setting aside the need for affirmation as we do so.

Quicklinks to Article Content:
An Example of Giving the Gift of Self
What Is the Gift of Self?
Fear Our Gift of Self Will Go Unnoticed or Be Rejected
Open-Handed Giving
Various Gifts

An Example of Giving the Gift of Self

To illustrate the beauty of giving the gift of self, I want to share a story from the Lotus Sutra. This is a translation by Gene Reeves, and it is the Buddha who is speaking:

“After the extinction of the first Majestic Voice King Tathagata, and after the end of the true Dharma, during the period of the merely formal Dharma, extremely arrogant monks had great power. At that time there was a bodhisattva-monk named Never Disrespectful. Great Strength, why do you think he was named Never Disrespectful? That monk bowed in obeisance before everyone he met, whether monk, nun, layman, or laywoman, and praised them, saying: ‘I deeply respect you. I would never dare to be disrespectful or arrogant toward you. Why? Because all of you are practicing the bodhisattva way and surely will become buddhas.’

“This monk did not devote himself to reading and reciting sutras, but simply went around bowing to people. If he saw the four groups off in the distance he would make a point of going up to them, bowing in obeisance, and praising them, saying: ‘I would never dare to disrespect you, because surely you are all to become buddhas.’ “Among the four groups were those who became angry, enraged, and mean-spirited, and reviled and cursed him, saying: ‘This ignorant monk, who takes it on himself to announce that he does not disrespect us and assures us of becoming buddhas, where did he come from? We have no use for such empty, false assurances.’

“Thus he passed many years, constantly being cursed but never becoming angry or enraged, and always saying : ‘Surely you are to become buddhas.’ When he spoke this way, some would hit him with sticks, tiles, or stones. But even if he ran off and stood at a distance, he would continue to cry out loudly: ‘I would not dare to disrespect you. Surely all of you are to become buddhas.’ And because he always spoke in this way, the extremely arrogant monks, nuns, laymen, and laywomen called him Never Disrespectful.”[i]

The story continues, explaining how bodhisattva Never Disrespectful later attained supreme awakening and taught widely, gaining the respect of those who had previously reviled him, but that’s not the part of the story I want to emphasize today. The bodhisattva, after all, didn’t know this would happen. He didn’t keep lavishing positivity and respect on everyone because he knew someday, they would get their comeuppance and realize how awesome he was. He chose his practice, how he wanted to give the gift of self, and kept up with it, regardless of whether people appreciated it or not.

Imagine doing this practice yourself, with the people you meet at the grocery store, people you work with, family members, people you know are on the opposite side of an important political issue from you. Nothing subtle, no warm up, you just burst out with, “Hey, Kathy, I want you to know I deeply respect you! I wouldn’t dare be disrespectful or judgmental of you, because I know you are walking your own path of practice and will surely awaken, at some point, to great wisdom and compassion.”

If someone said such a thing to me, I probably would have a mild reaction in that I wouldn’t throw stones, but I would probably think similarly to those who rejected Never Disrespectful: “Where do you get off reassuring me that you won’t be judgmental of me? That presumes you’re in a position to be judgmental but are morally superior because you’re going to refrain from that judgment. And who are you to look at my life and practice and decide it’s good enough? And if you’re predicting I’ll awaken at some future date, you’re implying I’m not awakened now.”

But Never Disrespectful was entirely sincere, and he knew what he was saying was important. When we’re not feeling strong or defensive, we might be able to appreciate his words of encouragement and love. Especially if we realize there are no power or merit differentials implied, whether between the bodhisattva and us, or among those he is speaking to.

What Is the Gift of Self?

Today I want to focus on giving the gift of self. What do I mean by that? A large part of our practice is about letting go of attachment to self. We aim to see for ourselves how our true self-nature is boundless, and how any sense we have of an enduring, independent, inherent self-nature is illusory and unnecessary.

However, without sentient beings there are no Buddhas. Buddhas are nothing other than embodied sentient beings with conditioning, personalities, karma, preferences, opinions, memories, strengths, and weaknesses – sentient beings who awaken to reality and thereby gain a much broader perspective on life. That perspective gives them freedom from fear and attachment, but as long as they are alive, they remain sentient beings.

While we have no inherent, enduring “self-essence,” we have a self. It is constantly changing and has no fixed boundaries. Our self is dependently co-arisen with all beings and things; it isn’t contained in our skin bag, or even within the sphere we usually call “my life” (my possessions, roles, responsibilities, relationships, etc.). Still, each of us is a unique manifestation of life. There is someone here who perceives, responds, and participates (or refrains from participating).

One of our sixteen bodhisattva precepts, or moral guidelines, says, “Do not be mean (stingy) with dharma or wealth – share understanding, give freely of self.” Sharing the Dharma, or truth, by sharing understanding, that seems pretty straightforward. We also know we should share material possessions. But what does it mean to give freely of self? Think about what comes forth from your being, and is not dependent on material possessions: Attention, time, encouragement, enthusiasm, ideas, observations, reflections, creativity, playfulness, determination, honesty, trust, work, moral support, active listening, quiet presence, friendliness…

Never Disrespectful had a deep conviction that everyone he met had buddhanature, no matter what. It seemed so obvious to him, and so wonderful! He had to share his enthusiasm, his inclusive and loving vision, even when others reacted negatively or even violently. This was his gift of self. Martin Luther King Jr was something like Never Disrespectful bodhisattva; he not only had a deep conviction that people of color deserved full respect for their humanity, he had a deep conviction that the racists on the other side also had buddhanature and should be met with love. King believed that a determined civil rights movement would eventually appeal to the consciences of enough white people to make a difference. He love and determination were often met with hatred and violence, but he continued nonetheless, knowing he was giving something valuable, true, and necessary.

Giving of self doesn’t have to be so grand, of course. To recall this, we simply need to review our own lives through the lens of gratitude. Who has been supportive of you? Who has always been there for you as a parent, sibling, or friend? When has the attention and interest of another person felt immensely affirming and encouraging? When has someone just listened to you when you needed to confess, or process, or vent? How about small acts of kindness by strangers? What about someone who freely shares jokes or poems or songs? Or someone who wears their heart on their sleeve, helping you feel more comfortable with your own emotions? Someone who remains determined even though they have many limitations, helping you feel confidence that you can make it, too? A store clerk who compliments your jacket. A policeman or nurse or post office clerk who goes above and beyond in their work, perhaps even with a sense of joy. Someone who remembers something you said years ago, which had a positive impact on them. Someone who bothers to say how much you have meant to them over the years.

Fear Our Gift of Self Will Go Unnoticed or Be Rejected

The list goes on and on. If we contemplate this, we realize how full of generosity our lives are, and how much of this generosity involves nothing other than the gift of self.

Sadly, most of us feel quite constrained in our giving. Sometimes this is because of stinginess, in the sense that we’re afraid we’ll run out of whatever it is we’re giving away. We may be cautious and thoughtful in terms of how many resources – money, time, energy, commitment, possessions – we funnel toward others. Stinginess based on a fear of lack is not, however, what I want to talk about today. Instead, I want to talk about stinginess based on a fear that our gift will go unnoticed or be rejected by others.

There may be other explanations for our fear of rejection, but I can’t help but think it’s based in the often-brutal experiences of children. We start out with the sweet innocence of a small child – “Look mommy! Look what I made!” It’s exciting we’re able to ride a tricycle, and everyone appreciates our art. Physically we are unashamed – dancing, dressing up, trying new activities enthusiastically. We might be instinctively shy around strangers, but once we trust someone, we don’t hesitate to bestow hugs on them, knowing this is the ultimate compliment. Our excitement and enthusiasm about things are sincere and unrestrained (as are our aversion and disinterest!).

Even children raised by loving parents in positive, resourced conditions will suffer the rude awakening of rejection at some point, never mind kids who experience such rejection and judgment directly from their parents. The sweet and open innocence of a young child quickly gives way to a stronger and stronger sense of self-consciousness. Few animals share the human ability to imagine the perspectives of those around them, particularly where it concerns the other’s perception of, and responses to, oneself. This is an amazing ability and helps us live relatively harmoniously in complex societies – but it’s also, in some ways, a curse. We quickly realize not all people think we’re great. Many times, others think our contribution to a given situation is unworthy, or even annoying or pitiable. We realize, over time, our achievements are going to be compared with those of others, so we learn to judge the relative value of every activity we engage in, whether it’s telling a joke or a story, sharing an idea, doing something athletic or artistic, or trying to be emotional supportive. How did our contribution rate? Was it superior, mediocre, or embarrassing?

The cruelty of others as we’re growing up causes us to withdraw or build defenses. (Of course, most of us have been cruel to others, at times, as well; basically we were, and are, all in the same boat, trying to live in the world without getting hurt.) For example, while I was fortunate that my parents were always kind and supportive, I learned early on in school that it was safest to take a cynical and sarcastic attitude to almost everything. If I felt excited or enthusiastic about something, I would hide it, because few things made you more vulnerable than showing it. If, say, I was thrilled to have my drawing hung up on the wall in the front of the classroom, other kids would smell the opportunity to humiliate me like a shark smells blood in water. They would criticize my drawing, my artistic skills, my worthiness as a person, and my pathetic enthusiasm. It was much safer to feign disinterest and maybe even critically dismiss my own drawing or the whole situation.

Of course, outright rejection isn’t the only way we experience hurt as we make offerings. Our presence or gift being completely missed or ignored can be just as painful. In my case, early on I found that being obnoxiously and audibly sarcastic and critical was a way I could get at least some of my classmates in school to laugh. At least this way I wasn’t completely invisible, which would have been the case if I had simply remained a nerdy good student who dressed very carefully but who failed to wear the right brands of clothes. I even provoked arguments sometimes – better to be reviled than to not be seen at all.

How does all of this leave us as adults? We refrain from contributing our questions, comments, or ideas because we figure no one really wants them. We restrain our enthusiasm so we don’t seem silly, and to protect ourselves from disappointment. We hold back from sharing our talents, hobbies, and interests because we fear no one will really be interested in them, and we’ll only embarrass ourselves by interrupting the social flow everyone else is invested in maintaining. People might even think we’re really lame, annoying, or stupid. We only dance if we feel confident our bodies meet the arbitrary, socially defined criteria of attractiveness. We only offer our friendship when we’re sure our feelings are going to be equally reciprocated. It doesn’t occur to us, much of the time, to offer words of appreciation or encouragement to others, because why would they care about what we have to say?

Open-Handed Giving

What would this life be like if we all opened those floodgates of generosity of self, without worrying about how our gifts are going to be received?

What if, like Never Disrespectful bodhisattva, we just did our thing, gave our gift of self, and, if necessary, backed up far enough that we wouldn’t get hit by any rocks in case people reacted by throwing them? You know Never Disrespectful didn’t go home at night, sad and full of anxiety, thinking, “No one likes me. I’m a failure. I’m going to stop bowing to people and showering them with respect.” He wasn’t giving because he wanted to be popular. He was giving because it was from his heart, and he knew what he was giving was sincere and, ultimately, could be of benefit to people. Perhaps in a moment of fear and weakness, someone would think back to the words of encouragement he had given, and it would make all the difference.

In a way, this kind of giving is a practice of non-attachment to self. We give of self, and let go of attachment to any pay-off for the self, even if that pay-off is just affirmation or appreciation.

It can be scary to do make a sincere, wholehearted offering with complete open-handedness. Adults, at least, tend to be slightly more socialized and less cruel than children, but it’s no guarantee. People can be cruel behind our backs, or ignore us, or avoid us, or reject us in subtle ways. We may contribute an idea in a meeting and have it met with an awkward silence and a quick change of topic. We may offer the reading of poem we have written and get no feedback about it whatsoever. We may dance or sing and find out later someone thinks we’re decidedly untalented. We may make overtures of friendship toward someone and they never return our calls.

When our offering isn’t met with affirmation, appreciation, or reciprocation, we’re likely to feel an increase in defensiveness and stinginess. “Well! That’s the last time I…” But what if we refused to let this happen? What if we opened our hands and sent good wishes along with our gift, “May it be of some benefit, even if I do not perceive that benefit myself.”

One of the most important gifts of self we give is trust. What happens when our trust is betrayed? Few things hurt more, and few things inspires us to withdraw more. However, if we give our trust sincerely and open-handedly, the gift is not destroyed by someone’s betrayal. We may not be able to trust the betrayer anymore, but we are not to blame for the betrayal. For example, I used to be rather pathologically insecure about my primary romantic relationships (I say “relationships” because it happened in all the relationships I had over the years). Few things in the world are more precious to me than this kind of partnership, and I freely share everything with my significant other. The mere thought of a partner lying and cheating on me used to be absolutely devastating – to the point that I worried about it even if I was in a good, stable relationship. Then, one day, I realized I was making a sincere offering of my love and trust to another person in my intimate relationship. If they took that gift and trampled on it, it was a reflection on them, not on me. Not that it wouldn’t hurt, but it didn’t have to be devastating. It didn’t have to make me incapable of trust and intimacy from there on out.

Various Gifts

The topic of generosity and giving in Buddhism is a rich one, so I’m sure I could find much more to say about giving the gift of self. However, I wrap up with a few observations about the kinds of gifts we can give.

Generally speaking, the best gifts of self aren’t the ones we give while consciously thinking about how awesome they are, or how skilled, talented, clever, or generous we are because we give them. Of course, we may indeed have strengths and skills and don’t need to hold back in sharing them, but whatever gifts we give will bring the most benefit to the world if we offer them with a minimum of self-referential thinking. It helps, if you do share talents and skills, to cultivate a sense of gratitude for having those very strengths and resources. We often end up proud of the things we’re good at, and maybe we’ve worked hard to develop our skills, but ultimately you can’t take credit for having the capacity for things like intelligence, athleticism, creativity, or empathy. Think of these kinds of gifts as things you have received and now have the pleasure of sharing.

In Buddhism we say there are three kinds of gifts, and each one reflects a more subtle and selfless level of generosity. First, we give people what we ourselves want. Think of little kids enacting their first generous impulse by spontaneously offering you their half-eaten cookie. Second, we give people what they want. This requires paying attention and shifting perspective. Third, we give what is most beneficial. The classic example of this is not enabling an addict to access their drug of choice, but instead holding boundaries and encouraging the addict to seek treatment.

This third kind of giving – giving what is most beneficial – is sometimes less immediately rewarding for the self. We may need to give what we don’t particularly enjoy giving! Perhaps we have a skill that we offer others even though we’re really not interested in doing said activity. Perhaps what we have to give, even though we know could be beneficial to someone, somewhere, sometime, is not currently appreciated. In fact, our “gift” – say, of boundaries, honesty, constructive criticism, or discipline – might even provoke a negative reaction. When giving this third kind of gift, it’s helpful to keep in mind your deeper motivations and stay in touch with a spirit of generosity, and with your intuition about what’s going to be beneficial in the long run.

Finally, keep in mind that the gift of self doesn’t have to be a unique gift! It can fun, affirming, and satisfying to get to know your strengths and weaknesses, and to develop skill in contributing and collaborating. However, the most enduring and supportive gifts of all are those we are all perfectly capable of giving when we leap beyond the fear of rejection or inadequacy: Things like our participation, attention, affection, appreciation, moral support, sympathy, labor, experience, or laughter.

I hope you will adopt a practice of challenging any sense you have that your gifts are inadequate or unwanted and try offering your gifts of self a little more freely. Don’t be attached to the results, because that’s just self-concern and half-hearted giving. Just make an offering and send it out into the universe with utter sincerity… and you’ll find, at least sometimes, that your gift of self is indeed appreciated, welcomed, and beneficial.