Full Circle Wisdom

A guest post by Mike's favorite daughter, Mira #DTHS

I don’t know she wanted a picture of me for her blog post, but that’s what she wanted.

Editor’s note: This is the first guest post by Mira Greenland. She is CRO at INTOO. Here’s her LinkedIn.

Full Circle Wisdom

My dad told me that he has been feeling especially blessed lately, more secure and more aware of the good fortune in his life.

Because of that, he wanted share his wealth more. He had told my sister and brother-in-law that he was thinking of taking cash out of the bank so he could give it to people asking for help when the moment felt right.

They seemed concerned. I guess they imagined him carrying a lot of cash around. It might not be safe; and giving money that way might unintentionally cause harm.

Over breakfast this morning, I asked him if he really had been doing that. He smiled and said yes and showed me a few one dollar bills he carried so he could share a bit of his good fortune.

This took me back to something he had taught me thirty or forty years ago.

When I was about seven, our family took a trip to Washington, D.C. It was the first time I remember seeing homeless people—asking for help on the sidewalks and in the subway stations. I remember feeling overwhelmed and sad. I kept asking my parents why they were not giving money to those people. We had plenty.

After dinner at the Spaghetti Factory, my dad asked the waiter to pack up what we hadn’t eaten. Then he said, “Come with me.”

He took me outside and walked up to a man sitting on the sidewalk. My dad offered him the food. The man told us he did not want it. He wanted money.

We walked to another man. Same response. And another. Same response.

Finally someone accepted the meal. By then the lesson had been learned. My dad had not tried to explain to me. He showed me. And what he showed me was that giving something truly nourishing might be a better way of sure the help offered is actually helpful. The ones who refused the food likely wanted money for drink, or something else that would hurt them in the end.

That shaped my future behavior. I keep keep energy bars and water bottles in my car to give out. I sometimes buy meals for people sitting outside fast food places. I try to offer something that provides help, not something they might be use to harm themselves. Sometimes they decline what I offer, and sometimes they accept.

I have never forgotten that lesson.

This morning, I told my dad this story.. He didn’t remember a bit of it.

My dad often says starts a story with “I have a theory…” then he explains the one of his ideas.

One of his theories is that we don’t own our wisdom exclusively. When someone shares wisdom, the wisdom remains with the person sharing and also is given to the person with whom it’s shared.

We can credit our teachers and we can shape the ideas we receive, and make them it part of who we are. And we can share them forward.

It struck me how perfectly that theory applied to my story about Washington.

He had taught me something forty years ago all those years ago that had become a part of me. And now I had been given the chance to share it back to him.

My father, 82 now, heard a story about the influence he’d had on me, one that he had forgotten.

There is something beautiful about that.

Wisdom does not stay in one mind or place or generation. It moves, it changes form, and sometimes it circles back to its source.

The lesson my dad once shared with his little girl came home to him.

I know that helping the homeless (the unhoused as we have now been taught to say) is not simple.

There is no perfect answer to how to care for someone in need.

Sometimes the best gift is food or water.

Sometimes it is kindness or conversation.

Sometimes it is seeing someone’s humanity when others look away.

Sometimes the gift is wisdom.

My dad shared some wisdom with me all those years ago.

And this week, I got to return it to him.