Of Pride and Need

Generosity is giving more than you can, and pride is taking less than you need.
Kahlil Gibran

My generosity has always been a source of personal pride for me and detachment from material possessions something I strive for. Don’t get me wrong, I love beautiful things, comfort, and luxury as much as anybody else and I joke about my expensive taste, but my desire for balance, moderation and peace usually overrules my lust for luxury and pleasure. In general, I have managed to make do with less whenever I thought that was the right thing to do. I made sure my husband and children’s needs were met even if that meant doing without some basic stuff for me. I was married many years before I allowed myself to get a car that was not what my family needed or wanted and many more before I could afford the kitchen of my dreams. It took over thirty-five years to give myself permission to have that kitchen and all the accoutrements that others in my position take for granted. I only needed nine months to exchange it for my freedom.

Today Kahlil Gibran shocked me by pointing out that the definition of pride for him is taking less than one needs. By that measure I have been guilty of obstinate arrogance for most of my life! That is the opposite of what I learned from my devoutly Catholic mother. For her, self-denial and mortification of the body were akin to saintliness; pride and self-indulgence capital sins. I tried to moderate her example and not go to the extremes that she considered obligatory, but I internalized the general concepts nonetheless. Yet my studies and reflections on the Christian Scriptures showed me a different worldview, one in which moderation in everything is a good rule of thumb and where asking for and taking what one needs is to be expected. Jesus himself went to parties and enjoyed a good meal and good wine surrounded with friends, and he took the little boy’s food and not only fed five thousand but I’d bet he also ate with them. He also asked Lazarus to come down from the tree because he wanted to have a meal in his house, yet he lived and died for the love of others. Throughout my life I’ve been generous to a fault and sometimes falsely so, more because I needed to feel pride in my giving than giving out of true love. I’d like to think that that prideful pseudo-generosity was more the exception than the rule!

One day a little over a week ago, I put aside my pride and left that kitchen of my dreams, my gilded cage, for a simpler, less efficient and more peaceful one. I am proud to say I did not settle for a tiny apartment in order to save money and have my husband’s approval. I took the apartment I needed to grow and thrive in, the one with the beautiful view and the extra bedroom for children and grandchildren to come stay in whenever they want and an office/art studio to work in. I saved money in a different manner: I furnished my apartment with leftover furniture that didn’t get sold a few months ago, hand-me-down furniture from my children, and furniture from my old home that I figured my husband didn’t need to be happy. It looks beautiful, it’s comfortable and functional, and it feels like my home, not the paycheck for my sacrifices. I am happy here.

I miss many things from my old life, mostly things. I also miss my husband, but it may be that I’m missing my dream of the husband I wanted him to be. But I’m happy to be alive and strong and at peace with myself and the world; proud to have taken what I needed. That’s the right kind of pride. It comes from knowing what I truly need.