Give a little bit...

It wasn't until I reached the age of 18 that I realized just how wonderful life was if you lived it with the tribal mentality. Up until that point, although I would consider myself a nice, giving person, I was still what you would call materialistic. Sure I would lend out DVDs or let my buddies wear my shoes that they loved, but I always found myself making checklists and looking for any sign of a scuff mark on the newest pair of Nike Dunks I had recently loaned out. I would never call anyone out on a scuff or a scratched CD track, but I would get so angry. I was protective, much like most people in this world because I had bought the items.
As Dean Jacobs talked about today, some of the cheaper places to travel have the nicest and most honest people. This is because they still realize that every single person on this earth holds a certain value, something that we in America no longer take notice of as we are all too wrapped up in our day-to-day routines with our noses pressed to our Blackberry screens, our thumbs becoming our most frequented tools for communication.
How is it that we have come to this. I think of 1492. I think of Vonnegut, the most distinct voice in a sea of satirists, and about what he wrote in his famed novel, Breakfast of Champions. speaking of our first "inhabitants/discoverers", Vonnegut refers to our ancestors as pirates, because we essentially killed, maimed and enslaved our way to ownership of this now great nation we salute daily as the land of the free. But who is really free anymore. Vonnegut writes, "The chief weapon of the sea pirates, however, was their capacity to astonish. Nobody else could believe, until it was much too late, how heartless and greedy they were."
We used those peoples trust against them, a practice still used heavily in today's society. Deception in an undying fad and we are all in practice in some way shape or form. Even women who harmlessly chat up a guy with meaningless flirtation is using deception to get a drink without opening her pocketbook.
My parents always told me that I am way too giving and open with my possessions. At the bar, I generally spend more money buying my friends numerous drinks than I spend on my own self. In my home, many a time a person has remarked about anything from a painting to a t-shirt and how appealing they find it to be, and I will take it off its hanger and present it to them, no questions asked. All the food I buy I share, and I will often buy enough food for a week and make it all in one day, inviting some friends or roommates to dine with me. Some would just say I love being around people, Others would say that I was teeming with charm, most would say I am crazy but at least I can say I am happy.
I first learned the beauty and joy of tribal living when I met Ben, an artist friend and fellow Loper who was painting his way to a degree. Ben invited me over to his house one day (a totally random occurance) because we had met through a common friend. I almost felt honored by the fact that he remembered who I was let alone wanted to hang out with me.
The first time I ever set foot into Ben's apartment, it was like someone had crammed the entire set of The Rocky Horror Picture Show into space roughly 25 feet by 12 feet. There were mannequin heads, plastic arms, a stack of unused TV's, random strange articles of clothing and enough cans of paint to coat the apartment 100 times over. The fridge was stocked with beer and dumpster-dived food, and Ben reached in, grabbed a cold one and said "help yourself!"
I was in shock, because as I reached in slowly and picked up a can, Ben told me to eat something if I felt like it. Soon, with enough day-old foods to fill my stomach and enough golden brown goodness to wash it down, I found myself in the center of the room, sitting on the floor across from Ben. He was going off about life, and how pointless it is if you can't smile and enjoy yourself. He told me about giving, and how it makes him feel better to see someone else wearing one of his shirts and loving the way the fabric rubs against their skin in the breeze, and the elation that brought him was far greater than owning the shirt himself. As I was readying to leave, I saw a painting on his wall (their wasn't a space in the house void of artwork) and told him it was great. I stopped, stared at it for a moment and made my exit. The next day, as I got out of class, I returned to my dorm room in mens hall to find the painting leaning against my door with a note on it that said "Real generosity toward the future lies in giving all to the present - Albert Camus".

Ben asked me to keep the painting, but much how I had come to hold it was the only way he ever wanted others to hold it. I was so touched by this that I began spending all my time at Ben's house. I met dozens of people and learned many lessons about life. During the time I spent there, I had seen at least 50 people find shelter on Ben's couch or under his staircase, it was like a flophouse for artists. Ben never once asked anything of me or those people, yet he gave so much of himself. Over the years I have held and passed on nearly 25-30 of his works, and they now hang in houses throughout the state...a few have even left the country. I have given away brand new shoes (never worn dunks at $145 once even), half of my wardrobe, books, movies, food, a TV and more drinks than one could imagine. I have housed more than 50 people, sometimes up to a week at a time, and I have trusted every person I have come into contact with.
Sure it has bitten me in the ass on a few occasions, but for the most part, I would say that I have lived a wonderfully happy life amidst my friends and our never-dying giving tree. I guess what I am saying is that our talk with Dean really made me realize just how much I value my life, my friends and the choices I have made.