OK, so as I was reading what Monsiour Dass had to say about helping and listening and all that jazz, I kept running across these little phrases that just sort of... I don't know... irked me. Statements like "our choice of how to help may turn on personal motivations and needs" (14) combine with anecdotes like the one about teaching a nursery school, where you have to "reconsider where to spend your time" because you realize that you are "fascinated by Mark" (105) and this is selfishly "why you want to work with him" (105) instead of Janet, who you are "not all that crazy about" (105). Emily (because she is an utter genius) sort of talked about this in her last blog too, this notion that often times our seemingly altruistic endeavors actually serve more to fuel and satisfy our ever-expanding egos, or to fulfill our own desires. She also kind of hinted that whether helping others had selfish motivation was irrelevent, because the help was received just the same. Honestly, this whole concept of human beings as irrevocably selfish machines reminds me of this one counselor I had at my summer bible study camp, who just kept going on and on about how humans are horrendous beings of destruction and self-serving and yaddayaddayadda. I'm think she was trying to instill in us a sense of awe at the grace and goodness that is God, but at the tender age of 10, I instead found myself simultaneously depressed at my (apparently) permanently uncharitable nature and offended by her low opinion of me after only 2 hours of acquaintance.
Anyway, looking back and reflecting on the idea of the innate horribleness of human beings, I have to say (much like in my last DB where I characterized humans as essentially good) that I don't quite buy it. I have this stupid theory that some guy invented this whole helping out of selfishness concept because of guilt. Don't laugh: It's a totally plausible story.
Once upon a time, Guilty Guilterson was walking along the streets of Guiltville when he came across a poor beggarwoman. Being the kind, unselfish soul that he was, and thinking of his recently deceased mother, whom the beggarwoman greatly resembled, he offered her a coin, which she took gladly, rewarding Guilty with a showering of profuse thanks. Guilty assured her it was no trouble and walked down the street whistling, happy and proud that he had been able to help and elated at the woman's unexpected gratefulness. Suddenly, he stopped.”WAIT ONE SECOND” said Guilty. “HOW DARE I BE HAPPY WHEN GOOD PEOPLE SUCH AS THAT BEGGARWOMAN ARE STUCK OUT ON THE STREETS?” Guilty felt a familiar stream of (you guessed it!) guilt wash over him. Being the brilliant man we all know him to be, Guilty allowed his guilt to eat at him until he was consumed by it, and at last he decided that he was just a despicable excuse for a human being who had only helped the beggarwoman to gain the happiness that his sick, depraved mind knew would follow his good deed. Essentially, Guilty's initial guilt that he was fortunate enough to be in a position where he was capable of helping the beggarwoman morphed into a monstrosity that was the birth of the notion that help is only given when there is something is to be gained.
Alright... maybe that was overkill. But I really do feel that this notion that all help is given out of selfishness is as absurd as Guilty's character. I do agree with Ram Dass that there are instances in which selfish motivations do have a role in whether or not we help someone. But I don't feel that this is always the case. I will venture to say though that... I don't know. I hate to say this because it sounds very touchy-feely and naïve, but I think that help given without selfish motivation can be more... not helpful, necessarily, but can give more inner strength to the person who's on the receiving end of the help.
Let's say there're two people working at a soup kitchen. In fact, let's go farther and name them after the classic characters Angela and Diabola. Now, Angela is working here because she has a strong emotional connection to the hungry and sincerely is hoping to make a difference. Diabola, on the other hand, is just doing her required 140 community service hours so that she won't have to do time for that last car she stole. As people move through the soup kitchen line, which serve do you think will make these homeless feel better? You know Angela is going to smile as she serves them. She might even ask how there days have been, or comment on the beautiful weather. Diabola, in contrast, will probably defiantly slap food down on people's trays and wrinkle her nose as they walk by because she DOESN'T REALLY CARE. See? Diabola is feeding people, but Angela is brightening people's days. Score one for Angela, right? I'll bet Diabola gets shunned to dishwashing for her negative attitude.
And the moral of the story is: Help, but don't be selfish about it, because not being selfish is definitely possible.
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