Become A Better Giver.
THE DAILY TITHE
Everything Is Not About you Pt. 2
I didn’t watch the Grammys on Sunday, but thanks to instagram I did catch Jazmine Sullivan’s acceptance speech.
“I wrote this project to deal with my own shame and un-forgiveness around decisions I made in my 20s that weren’t favorable, but what it ended up being was a safe space for black women to tell their stories, for us to learn from each other, laugh with each other, and not be exploited at the same time.”
Why would anyone create a piece of art and publicly share, (for the world to see) knowing it will be judged, criticized, and critiqued?
Why would anyone create a piece of art, (for the world to see) that displays their scars and imperfections..
For the world to see?
“..for black women..”
Everything Is Not About you.
But this is not even her best album.
But this is not even my favorite album from her.
Someone else should have won.
Everything..
And just because it wasn’t made for you doesn't mean it wasn’t made for someone.
Everything..
Art is..
A gift.
Music is..
Black women are..
Jazmine Sullivan is..
Thank you Jazmine for offering this gift and reminding us what Giving is Like..
Take Yourself Out The Game
Growing up a basketball fan I heard stories of Allen Iverson never wanting to come out the game. A.I. wanted to play the entire 48 minutes and would get upset whenever his coach took him out.
Yesterday, I was speaking to a colleague who said he became sick from all of the things he had going on in his life. It got so bad he wasn’t sleeping at night, often became dizzy, and now he’s taking sleeping pills prescribed by his doctor.
This is not a game.
But life is a coach.
And sometimes you have to take yourself out the game or life will do it for you.
A few days ago while being interviewed for a podcast, I said:
Every time you lay down at night and go to sleep, you are giving yourself a gift.
Yesterday after speaking with my colleague I was reminded.
Every time you go to bed at night and can sleep, you have been given a gift.
Rest.
Take yourself out the game or life will do it for you.
Me Too
I was recently invited to a funeral of a young woman who passed away. Once at the funeral I learned she had a son. I immediately asked for his age, and upon learning, I said:
“Me too”.
I lost my mom at a young age too.
I often say one of the best responses you can get after telling your story is:
Me too.
Or maybe even
Me too!
I experience imposter syndrome too.
I get afraid too.
I have my doubts too.
Me too!
Remember that time you were just getting to know someone, and it seemed like everything you liked, they liked too? Everything you loved, they loved too? Everything you hated, they hated too?
My favorite.
Book
Movie
Food
Athlete
Artist
Song
Shoe
Me too!
Me too!
Remember how they made you feel?
“I’m not the only one”?
“There’s someone else like me?”
Me too- is often said with a smile or a laugh.
With an embrace, head-nod, or clap.
And sometimes it’s said with tears.
What if the the best gift we can give someone is saying:
Me too.
Put All Your Measuring Instruments Away
I’m excited about writing The Daily Tithe. I’m excited because I think I have some cool ideas. Ideas that could possibly be something, possibly help someone.
And then I release it for the world to see, and their excitement doesn’t measure up to my excitement.
And now I’m wondering if this thing I created, the thing I was so excited about, even measured up at all.
I have to ask myself, am I doing this to excite others?
Am I doing this for likes, reposts, and comments?
Or am I doing this for improvement, impact, and value?
Only one group can be measured.
The other? Immeasurably more.
So why am I trying to measure the immeasurable?
I don’t know.
How much impact I’m having.
I don’t know.
How much value I’m adding.
I don’t know.
It’s too soon.
And it’s too big to be stuffed in a box.
The gift.
I can’t measure it.
I just know it’s more.
Immeasurably.
Maybe that’s it.
I don’t know.
Exactly.
How much, I just know it's more.
Immeasurably more.
Too more to measure.
*puts all measuring instruments away*
Again? How many times do I have to..
Finally,
You're so good at this.
It’s so easy.
It’s so comfortable.
You're so comfortable.
Until you’re asked to do something new.
Again? How many times do I have to..
Now.
You’re scared all over.
Again? How many times do I have to..
Ugh, tear
Down
That good feeling.
Everything I thought I knew.
Insert the unsure beginners nerves.
The uncomfortable imposter feeling.
Again? How many times do I have to..
Give myself.
Again.
But it’s so good - For Me.
After completing 7 days of morning pages my cousin texted me and said:
“It was challenging and humbling and frustrating and interesting.”
In which I responded:
“Whew humbling I like that one”
“Writing is humbling”
As much as I might pray God help me to remain humble, I don’t like being humbled.
But it’s so good for me.
This must be why my cousin's usage of humbling as it refers to writing resonated with me.
It’s as if God says:
“You want to be humble? Write”
“More humble? Publish”
“Everyday”
Coming to my morning pages, unsure, having doubts, and writing them out on paper, for me to see and express, was humbling for me.
I don’t know and I don’t have control.
Whew humbling. Writing is humbling.
Everyday I write The Daily Tithe and everyday I’m humbled.
“Is this anything?”
“Are they going to like this?”
“Who do I think I am?”
“This sucks. No one will like this. You’re not a writer.”
Whew humbling. Writing is humbling.
But it’s so good for me.
For my cousin and I it’s writing
For you, - it might be..
What’s the thing for you?
The thing that’s..
Whew humbling.
.. is humbling.
Might that be the gift?
For you..
A slice of humble pie?
How I Got More..
Momma use to say: “Use what you have”
In response to my request for more.
Use what you have.
Took me a while to realize.
Momma was saying:
I had enough.
I am enough.
Who you already are + what you already have
= All you need.
Use what you have.
I wish I was more..
I wish I had more..
We often assume that we’ll automatically be better with more..
But based on how we are using what we already have, we probably won’t.
Instead of less is more, we’re caught with our gifts down, doing less with more.
I once read in a book: “He that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also in much: and he that is unjust in the least is unjust in much.
Who you are now is a gift.
What you have now is a gift.
Use what you have.
Now.
That’s how you get more.
Everything Is Not About you.
I was on a bus, riding through Morocco, and looking out the window, I noticed a restaurant store sign much different from all the others.
The sign was written in English.
I wondered why anyone would write out “Pizza Shop” in a predominantly Arabic speaking country.
Surely they aren’t speaking to natives right?
And what tourist would come all the way to Morocco and want Pizza?
Tangine! It’s Tangine!
Everything Is Not About you.
When you learn that..
Many African countries look to America for the “it” thing.
Some people feel more comfortable with a taste of home while away.
Everyone is not as adventurous with trying food as you are.
You suddenly realize.
Everything Is Not About you.
And just because it wasn’t made for you doesn’t mean it wasn’t made for someone.
I like to look at giving in a similar way.
Who is this for?
What do they want?
Even better..
What do they need?
Everything Is Not About you.
P.S. Yesterday I shared about values, and if you’re anything like my family and I, sharing is a generational gift. If so, how might you continue your generational gifting? Who might you share this with?
Everything Is Not About..
Our Generational Gifts
In 2011 my family's reunion was held in Warrenton Georgia. Warrenton is the hometown of many of my family members- including my great great grandpa, my great grandparents, my grandma, and my great aunts and uncles.
Leading up to the reunion my grandmother noticed five living generations within our family, and requested we get a picture.
In the picture you will see my niece, my sister, my aunt, my grandmother, and my great grandmother.
What you don’t see in the picture is my family’s values.
We all have been given values.
And whether we see them or not, values are gifts.
Good or bad.
Accept or decline.
Our gift of choice.
Generational Gifts.
I can’t see, so much privilege in my eyes.
I’ve been given so much.
Sometimes I can’t see.
So much privilege in my eyes.
Over the last couple of years I’ve had the opportunity to heavily immerse myself into the business world. In fact, one of my current jobs is working for one of the largest businesses on the planet. For five days a week I receive a masterclass in business. I get to roam around from department to department and watch and study human behavior. In addition, because I’m curious enough, have great relationships, and share an office with top management, I get the behind the scenes and inside scoops of how the business actually works.
And then there is this other job I’m privileged to have. I get to learn from the company's founder who happens to be a great entrepreneur, a marketing hall of famer, and has one of the greatest business minds this world has ever seen. Not only do I get to learn from him, but also from amazing colleagues and students, many of whom are incredible businesswo(men) in their own right.
I’ve been given so much.
Sometimes I can’t see.
So much privilege in my eyes.
During my travels to both Senegal and Ghana, one of the things that left me temporarily dumbfounded and frustrated was how so many Sengalese and Ghanians do business.
Time and time again I’ve caught myself frustrated.
Partly because I want to see people do well.
Partly because they are my brothers and sisters and I know what this means.
And partly because, “well..duh, can’t you see?”
When really it’s me.
Who can't see.
So much privilege in my eyes.
“Duh, can’t you see?”
You’ve been given so much.
Sometimes you can’t see.
CloseTheGap
I remember one day as a young child, riding in the car with my grandmother. She pulled into Pathmark’s parking lot and as we got out of the car, a gentleman approached her, asking for spare change. “No sweetheart, I don’t have any spare change, but I’d be happy to buy something for you inside.” He declined. As he walked off I told grandma I had money I could give him. “No baby, don’t give money to strangers. You don’t know him, or what he might be doing with the money. You could be enabling him, supporting a bad habit.” Until this day I remember that moment in Pathmark’s parking lot and my subsequent conversation with grandma. “I don’t have any cash, but I’ll buy you..” is often my response. While in Ghana, I was speaking with some Ghanians, sharing thoughts and ideas around giving to Ghanian children. Seemingly at the end of every idea was a reason the idea might not be best. The idea might do more harm than good. It might become a crutch and encourage enablement, and entrapment in a system, instead of freedom, self sufficiency, and independence. Interestingly enough we only got to the better ideas (closing the gap) the more we discussed who the children we are trying to help are, and what their life is like. The more we got to know them, the more we closed the gap. The more we were curious enough to learn and discover, the more we closed the gap. The gap in details surrounding the situation. The gap that is too often filled with assumptions and judgment (widening the gap). I want my giving to go to good use too. However, being 100% certain is slim, yet our chances might increase if we learn to close the gap. We don’t always know what to give. There's often a gap between what we have and what we know. It might be easy for us to put something in someone's hands. But if we close the gap, we might be able to put it in their heart.
CloseTheGap.
Wow, that turned out better than I thought
Have you ever given a gift that turned out better than you thought?
You thought they would like it, but man, they loved it.
They danced around the office.
They told everyone.
It was the thought that counted.
And you gave real good thought- right?
Yesterday evening I sat down to write The Daily Tithe.
Way out of my rhythm.
Kinda in the mood, but not really.
It didn’t feel like other days.
To make feelings worse, I wasn’t feeling any of my ideas.
I kept thinking and thinking.
Scraping and Scraping.
By the time I finished proofreading:
“Wow, that turned out better than I thought”
To make feelings better, a few hours later a friend reposted the same Daily Tithe to her instagram account for all her followers to see, accrediting the timeliness of the message.
Later she messaged me: “I love The Daily Tithe”
”Wow, that turned out better than I thought.”
And the gift you have?
You might as well Just Give It.
It might just turn out better than you thought.
Just Space Yourself
Space changes everything.
I don’t know much about music, but I think when it comes to writing music notes, the space between the notes changes how the music is played.
And heard.
I don’t know much about writing, but I think the space between words changes how the words are read.
And understood.
I often like to look at life in this way.
Space changes everything.
Even how the music of our lives is played.
And heard.
Space changes everything.
Even how the words of our lives are read and understood.
I don’t know much about..
But,
I think sometimes the best gift we can give ourselves is the gift of space.
Space to play out and be heard.
Space to be read and understood.
You don’t need to play the rush.
You don’t read to be in a hurry.
Just Space Yourself.
It changes everything.
i do it once and they expect..
it.
Every time.
All the time.
Dependent.
Like a given.
Giving is Like.
That sometime.
“That's why I don’t..”
“Be careful who you give..”
But what if you were careful how you gave?
What if you gave differently?
As I’ve gotten older, my hands down favorite way to give is, anonymously.
Untraceable.
I don’t need a thank you.
If I’m giving online I give the least amount of information possible.
I select all the “hide” options.
Private.
Confidential.
Anonymous.
I don’t need a thank you.
If I’m giving in person I like to mimic the same idea.
How can I give this gift while offering the least amount of info possible?
How can this gift be “hidden”?
Private.
Confidential.
Anonymous.
I don’t need a thank you.
Sometimes I give it to a friend and ask them to give it to the person (or cause) without saying who it’s from.
And if I absolutely feel like they can’t hold water, I’d ask them to at least wait until after I leave.
It’s pretty hard for someone to expect something from you, if they don’t know who you are.
Private.
Confidential.
Anonymous.
Hidden.
You don’t need a thank you.
God knows.
Traveling is Writing
And I never want to stop..
Remember yesterday's post?
I was pretty hard on myself.
But then it dawned on me.
Traveling is writing.
For one week I wrote on the pages of my heart.
Story by Story.
Experience by Experience.
Observation by Observation.
Like the story of the teacher who earns $41 a month.
Like my experience walking over a creaking wood bridge 130ft above ground.
Or like my observation of how much Americans have convinced Ghanians that our way of doing things- like education- is somehow better.
I was writing.
But what if my head was down?
So focused on my writing?
The 66 day writing streak is gone.
My head is up.
Less I miss the very writing that travels from the heart.
Traveling is writing.
And writing is a gift.
And I never want to stop..
My heart.
From..
This is what happened when I gave myself a break
66 day writing streak broken.
Let me explain.
Prior to my trip to Ghana I had a 66 day writing streak.
For 66 days straight I sat at my desk and wrote three pages.
Every single day for 2 months.
I filled 3 moleskine notebooks and used countless pens.
It became a beautiful habit, something I looked forward to.
I kept showing up, day after day.
Often within those 1,000 words were prayers.
Me talking to God.
Often they were mind dumps.
Heart dumps.
I would take whatever was on my mind, and whatever was on my heart, and dump it on the page.
It became therapeutic.
Once I wrote it down, once I gave it to God, I considered it done.
Handled.
Settled.
My streak began on 1-2-22 and it ended on 3-9-22.
I was traveling to Ghana that day and time got away.
The plane was scheduled to depart at 11:55pm, but the only thing I remember departing was me from my 66,000 word streak.
I was upset.
I blew it.
My goal was 90 days, I was super close, but I messed it up.
I gave some thought to pretending it never happened, but it felt like cheating to me and I wanted to be true to myself.
I thought about how I failed, how I’d never get to 90 days.
“Man, if you can’t travel and write then….”
“What are you going to do, not travel?”
And then I heard these 3 words.
“Let it go”
You mean how I’d been doing for the previous 66 days?
Was this the God I had been writing to, writing back?
“Let it go” - “Give yourself a break”
A mind dump.
A heart dump.
It’s done. Handled. Settled.
I didn’t write that day.
But I did right that day.
I let it go and gave myself a break.
My Shoe Size Remains But My Heart Has Changed
Be careful what you pray for.
It might just come to pass.
That’s what my Aunt used to say.
One of my biggest prayers since the launch of Giving is Like has been that God will help me become a better giver.
No way am I ever going to fulfill my dream of helping people become better givers if I’m not becoming one myself.
Be careful what you pray for.
It might just come to pass.
That’s what my Aunt used to say.
I’ve worn the same shoe size since the 8th grade.
In fact, in the next room from where I am writing this, is a pair of sneakers I purchased in the 8th grade.
Since that time, I have accumulated hundreds of sneakers.
I remember one Saturday driving down to the Bape store (my favorite brand at the time) and leaving with over ten pairs of sneakers.
I remember the days of going to Nike Town almost every Saturday and purchasing the latest pair of Jordans.
My days of Bapes and Jordans are long gone, but I never stopped buying sneakers.
If you take a look at my sneaker collection right now, you’d see predominantly one brand.
My shoe size remains.
But then I prayed this prayer:
“God help me become a better giver.”
And now my heart has changed.
I’ve purchased one pair of footwear since the new year began.
If you’ve never seen a miracle in person, this is pretty close.
Week by week I watch my favorite sneaker brand release new sneakers.
My heart remains changed.
I’ve been tempted a few times, I even tried to tell myself a few stories to convince myself it was ok.
“Just these” or “Just this one last time”.
But my heart remains changed.
It’s my fault.
I prayed for this.
And now it has come to pass.
It started with a prayer.
And then a book.
And I heard clear in my heart:
“If you want to become a better giver, start giving to better things”.
When I first prayed this prayer I was thinking God would help me become a better giver by helping me give more.
Who knew giving less would actually do the trick.
Less to companies who don’t pay livable wages.
Less to companies who could care less about the impact their products have on our planet.
Less to companies who knowingly allow their employees to work in unhealthy environments.
Giving less, less, less.
So I could give better, better, better.
My shoe size remains, but my heart has changed.
Be careful what you read, it might just come to pass.
The Email Full Of Emotions
I dropped my phone.
I saw something I imagined.
Last week while in Ghana, with very scarce internet access, I was thrown out of many of my normal routines, like email.
However, one night, back at the house, after another amazing day exploring, not really expecting much, and more so out of habit, I checked my email.
I saw something I imagined.
The email full of emotions.
I hadn’t yet read the entire email, the subject line was enough.
Actually it was the first three words.
“Coaching for altMBA”
It was from the Director of Student Experience at Akimbo.
I dropped my phone.
I saw something I imagined.
The email full of emotions.
On March 11th 2021, I graduated as a student of altMBA45.
On March 14th 2022, I received an email from the Director of Student Experience asking if I’d like to coach in the upcoming session.
The email full of emotions.
I dropped my phone.
I saw something I imagined.
The altMBA is a workshop I’ve imagined coaching in one day, and now here I am being given this grand opportunity.
Imagine I never applied to be a student.
Imagine I never gave my all throughout the entire application process.
Imagine I never gave my all as a student.
Imagine I never gave my all as a coach.
Imagine I never imagined.
Imagine I never gave.
I saw something I imagined.
The email full of emotions.
I dropped my phone.
Imagine- A gift you can give yourself.
Ghana: One or Two? (Hint: It’s a trap)
Yesterday morning I arrived back in the U.S. after spending a week in Ghana.
After my second trip to Ghana in the last four months, I almost fell for the trap.
“Which of the two trips was better?”
Immediately my brain began calculating and comparing.
I caught myself.
What am I doing? Am I really sitting here attempting to scan every moment of the last week, and then scanning back to four months ago so I could scan through every moment I spent in Ghana during those two weeks too?
Here’s the gift I wasn’t looking for: Neither trip was better than the other.
Both trips were incredible and life changing.
On the first trip I visited four slave castles and learned about my ancestors and their experiences during the slave trade.
On the second trip I drove from town to town, and village to village spending quality time with Ghanaians- observing, listening, and learning- what life is like in Ghana, straight from the horse's mouth.
Not better. Different.
I loved both trips. I’m already planning a return.
I’m already getting excited just thinking how much better different the next trip to Ghana will be.
Ghana was a gift.
Ghana is a gift.
But the moment I start comparing which gift is better, the moment I risk devaluing invaluable gifts.
Not better. Different.
I loved trip one, and I loved trip two.
Please don’t fall for the trap.
Love the Gift of Ghana too.
P.S. If you missed The Daily Tithe, I want you to know The Daily Tithe missed you too. I had every intention of continuing to speak with you all, but internet access was very minimal. The gift of waking up everyday and writing you is one of my favorite things to do and I missed it, so thank you.
What’s Your 10%?
I’m not asking you to change the world.
On March 7th 2021 I recorded a video as part of an assignment for the altMBA program I was enrolled in.
I had no intentions of ever publicly sharing the video, nor did I have any idea that one year later I would be publishing my thoughts and ideas into the world via this website and The Daily Tithe, neither of which existed at the time.
Yet, here we are.
Yesterday while overlooking this work, I thought this might be a perfect time and place to share.
After cringing at my appearance I figured I’d just write a transcript for the video, but instead I chose to post both.
Hope you enjoy!
I’ve been waiting over 20 years to tell this story. When I was a young child my mom and I negotiated a deal for me to earn $7 allowance every week for doing house chores. But there was one stipulation, I had to give 10% away. The very next weekend I had my first opportunity to give 70¢, but instead I chose to cheerfully give $1.
Now if I told you that $1 could change the world you probably wouldn’t believe me. It’s far easier to believe that it would take millions and billions of dollars to change the world.
The truth is most people don’t have millions of dollars and even far less have billions of dollars. So if all it takes is a few people giving millions and billions of dollars to change the world, we would then have to explain why we live in a world that in many ways remains unchanged. We would have to explain homeless shelters that are still full, we would have to explain why children go to bed at night without having a meal. We would have to explain why in some parts of the world there is no clean water to drink. We would have to explain anxiety and depression that leads to suicide. We would have to explain why everyday people going through everyday things, in a world with 8billion others and somehow still they feel alone.
When I gave my $1 I didn’t change the world, I changed my world. I changed my thinking, I changed my mind, I changed my heart. And so I’m not asking you to change the world, I’m asking you to change your world, your thinking, your heart, your mind. I’m asking you to change the world around you. Your friend, your neighbor, your co-worker. The family you go to school with, the family you attend church service with, what’s their name? Could you change their world? And if you change their world, and they change the world of someone else, and then they change the world of someone else, might we eventually live in a world that is forever changed. Might we live in a world where homeless shelters are empty, where there are no more soup kitchens, where if I go outside the man that once slept on the sidewalk in the dead of the winter is no longer there.
What can you give?
Whose world can you change?
What’s your 10%?