I’m not a public speaker, but on occasion there are groups foolish (or brave) enough to extend an invitation. My inclination is to accept all the invitations if the logistics and timing work. A few years ago when my first book was released, a number of small groups asked me to visit. Most were wonderful. A few were just okay.
And one … was awful.
It was a breakfast event for men. Loosely affiliated with a larger group, they had a mission statement promising fellowship, confidentiality, and a safe place for men to share about their struggles. All sounded good to me.
About fifteen attended that morning. Everyone was engaged, the bagels were not terrible, the coffee was good, and the setting was comfortable. The organizer was a good leader who pushed the agenda forward to honor everyones time. My talk seemed to come across well.
All good, right? So why do I call it awful?
Because the overwhelming vibe of the event was selfish ambition. Each person there had a product or service to sell, or a networking goal to achieve, or some other angle. The mission statement for that national group? Completely irrelevant. This wasn’t a gathering of men seeking fellowship – it was a gathering of the ambitious pursuing goals.
Now that’s not necessarily a bad thing. But if that’s your purpose for existence, or at least for attending, then don’t hide behind some kumbaya nonsense about being a safe place for men to share about their struggles.
I left the event satisfied I had done my part well, but also feeling just a little bit dirty. Like I needed a shower to get the stench of passive aggressive ambition off of me.
It was an ungenerous bunch that morning. They were focused on themselves, not the community, not the group.
But I have to be transparent here. It’s been a few years and looking back at the event makes me wonder: how often have I shown up at an event with some hidden agenda? Probably a lot more than I am willing to admit. Possibly even that morning.
It’s easy for me to point at that group and call them ungenerous. It’s harder to point at myself and admit the same.
This is an area of generosity I continue to work on. Writing a check? Easy. But giving of myself, authentically, transparently, without an agenda or any expectation of something in return? Ouch. That’s hard.
And yet to truly live a generous life it is absolutely vital.
Artwork by Mark Kostabi. This lithograph is on the wall in my conference room. It serves a reminder that much is nonsense.