I was startled when the Starbucks barista handed me my coffee and said it had been paid for. “Who is my benefactor?” I asked. She pointed to a young woman with a slightly Goth appearance who had been ahead of me in line.

Although she and I hadn’t spoken, I suspected she’d been eavesdropping on my conversation with the fellow who was part of a group headed to a church camp, as was she.

I went over to thank her and discovered that random acts of kindness seemed to be her specialty. She modestly accepted my thanks and said she was always on the lookout for ways to share with strangers.

Years before the term random acts of kindness was coined, David Dunn wrote a wonderful book called Try Giving Yourself Away. Dunn first came upon his hobby when he gave away an advertising idea to a railroad. Later he found enormous pleasure in seeing his idea used in ads at railway stations and hotel lobbies.

He writes, “It was thus I made the important discovery that anything which makes one glow with pleasure is beyond money calculation, in this world where there is altogether too much grubbing and too little glowing.

“I began to experiment with giving-away and discovered it to be great fun. I discovered, too, that successful giving-away has to be cultivated. There is a knack to it, just as there is to successful getting.

“Opportunities for reaping dividends of happiness are fleeting. You have to act quickly or they elude you. But that only adds zest to the exercise.”

If you’re in the market for a new hobby, consider the examples of my young benefactor and David Dunn. I have a hunch that the people we see going about their daily business with a smile on their face have already discovered the joy of anonymously making life a little bit better for people who will never repay them—or even know their names.

When I first moved to Minnesota, I joked  that there was a church on every corner. That’s a bit of an exaggeration, of course, but it seems that most major thoroughfares are dotted with them.

For several years, there was a church that I passed almost every day. Like most churches, it had a message board out in front; unlike most churches, this message board actually contained messages. Even more unusual, the messages were changed a couple of times every week so there was always a new one to check out.

Some of the messages were attention-getters like the one that said, “Satan loves a dusty Bible.”

Others were funny. My favorite one said, “Trouble sleeping? Try a sermon.”

Mostly they were lovely philosophical reminders to be kind and to make a contribution to making the world a better place.

One day I called the church and said, “In case no one has told you this, I want you to know how much your message board is appreciated by those of us driving by.”

The secretary said they’d gotten many positive comments on it, then added that the senior pastor went out at 5:30 in the morning to change the board. “Please thank him for me,” I said.

Several months later, I passed by the church again and saw a gathering in the yard. A fancy new message board had just been installed.

It had a burgundy and charcoal frame and was lighted from within. It was pretty spiffy, but I noticed that the message simply listed the times of their services.

What’s the point of posting the times of their services, I wondered. Those hours never change and surely their members already know when services are held.

If the point of posting them was for the convenience of non-members who might want to join them, I’m not sure there’s any obvious reason to pick this church over any other.

That’s the way it’s stayed. I hardly even noticed it after that.

I’ve tried to imagine what happened here. Maybe the senior pastor retired and nobody else wanted to do it. Maybe not enough people let them know that they liked the effort.

Or perhaps, and I hope I’m wrong here, the church forgot that it’s really in the inspiration business. Most likely, somebody decided it was too much bother to keep the messages up and in making that decision lost an enormous opportunity to contribute some random good.

This church isn’t the only example of losing sight of an opportunity to inspire. I once read an article entitled, “That Angry Flier Just Might Be Your Flight Attendant.”

The article pointed out that all the difficulties experienced by the airline industry are taking a toll on their employees. The sentence that really grabbed me  said, “Even before all the industry’s woes, attendants complained that their pay was too low for ‘friendly’ service.”

I was so astonished by that I must have read it over three times.

Amazon founder Jeff Bezos once told an interviewer, “It’s not our customer’s job to lie awake nights figuring out how we can serve them better. We have to take responsibility for improving.” Maybe he should talk to the airlines.

If you want to make this coming year the best one you’ve ever had, take the challenge now to find ways to use your business as a tool to inspire.

Whether you’re repairing small engines, teaching yoga or designing websites, you’ll find there’s no shortage of opportunities to encourage other people—if you are so inclined. Inspire them by your joy, inspire them by your commitment, inspire them by caring about their success.

As Alfred A. Montapert said, “There is something better than putting money into your pocket and that is putting beauty and love and service into your life.”

Those are options that inspire.

 

When I first moved to Minnesota, I used to joke that there was a church on every corner. That’s a bit of an exaggeration, of course, but it seems that most major thoroughfares are dotted with them.

For several years, there was a church that I passed almost every day. Like most churches, it had a message board out in front. Unlike most churches, this message board actually contained messages.

Even more unusual, the messages were changed a couple of times every week so there was always a new one to check out.

Some of the messages were attention-getters like the one that said, “Satan loves a dusty Bible.” Others were funny. My favorite one said, “Trouble sleeping? Try a sermon.”

Mostly they were lovely philosophical reminders to be kind and to contribute to making the world a better place.

One day I was pondering some troublesome problem that had me stumped. As I passed the church, the sign board declared, “Love is the answer.”  I burst out laughing. That was exactly what I needed to solve my problem.

One day I called the church and said, “In case no one has told you this, I want you to know how much your message board is appreciated by those of us driving by.” The secretary said they’d gotten many positive comments on it, then added that the senior pastor went out at 5:30 in the morning to change the board.

“Please thank him for me,” I said.

Several months later, I passed by the church again and saw a gathering in the yard. A fancy new message board had just been installed. It had a burgundy and charcoal frame and was lighted from within.

It was pretty spiffy, but I noticed that the message simply listed the times of their services. That’s the way it stayed. I hardly noticed it anymore.

What’s the point of posting the times of their services? Those hours never change and surely their members already know when services are held.

If the point of posting them is for the convenience of nonmembers who might want to join them, I’m not sure there’s any obvious reason to pick this church over any other.

I’ve tried to imagine what happened here. Maybe the senior pastor retired and nobody else wanted to do it, I thought. Maybe not enough people let them know that they liked the effort.

Or perhaps, and I hope I’m wrong here, the church forgot that it’s really in the inspiration business. Most likely, somebody decided it was too much bother to keep the messages up and in making that decision lost an enormous opportunity to contribute some random good.

“The difference between people who exercise initiative and those who don’t,” writes Stephen Covey, “is literally the difference between night and day. I’m not talking about a twenty-five to fifty percent difference in effectiveness;  I’m talking about a 5000-plus percent difference, particularly if they are smart, aware and sensitive to others.”

What Covey is talking about seems to be a big secret: if we want to get great results we can’t wait for others. We have to practice generosity first.

As Amazon founder Jeff Bezos once told an interviewer, “It’s not our customer’s job to lie awake nights figuring out how we can serve them better. We have to take responsibility for improving.”

We always have the choice of creating a life that is grim or glorious. If you want to make this coming year the best one you’ve ever had, take the challenge now to discover and share as generously as you can.

Whether you’re repairing small engines, teaching yoga or designing Web sites, you’ll find there’s no shortage of opportunities to inspire and encourage other people—if you are so inclined.

Inspire them by your joy, inspire them by your commitment, inspire them by caring about their success. When you’re focused on ways to be generous, you’ll be dazzled by all the abundance you’re getting back.

Decades before anyone talked about random acts of kindness, a man named David Dunn found a new hobby. He wrote about it in a wonderful book called Try Giving Yourself Away which first appeared in 1947.

The story actually began some twenty years earlier when Dunn had an idea while riding on the Twentieth Century Limited from Chicago to New York. He began to wonder where the eastbound and westbound trains passed.

 “Where the Centuries Pass” would make an interesting advertisement he mused. The next day he wrote a letter sharing his idea with the railroad company. They liked the idea and used it on their company calendar for the following year.

“The following summer I traveled extensively, “ Dunn writes. “In almost every railroad station and hotel lobby I entered, both at home and in Europe, hung my Century calendar. It never failed to give me a glow of pleasure.

“It was then I made the important discovery that anything that makes one glow with pleasure is beyond money calculation, in this world where there is too much grubbing and too little glowing.”

Dunn discovered that there was a knack to this newly discovered hobby of his. “Opportunities for reaping dividends of happiness are fleeting. You have to act quickly or they elude you. But that only adds to the zest.”

His book is loaded with suggestions for doing just that. For example, he says, “If I particularly enjoy a book, a magazine article or a play, I write a note to the author, telling him or her of my enjoyment. Sometimes I receive an acknowledgment; more often I do not. It doesn’t matter in the least: I am not collecting autographs. I am just keeping my giving-away machinery in good working order.”

As Try Giving Yourself Away demonstrates so beautifully, gratitude and appreciation are lovely gifts that anyone can deliver and instantly make the world better. Best of all, anyone can build a collection of such experiences that enrich both the giver and receiver.

I thought about David Dunn when I saw this Tweet from Deepak Chopra: “When I give to others, to my community, and to my society, I participate in the creation of abundance in the world.”

Immediately I recalled an experience I had on a drive to California. I had stopped at a Starbucks and found myself in a long line of young people on their way to a church camp. 

When I finally got to the counter, the barista handed me my coffee along with a gift card.

I  was delightfully flabbergasted. “Who is my benefactor?” I asked. She pointed at a young woman who was flaunting several tatoos and piercings. 

I walked over to thank her and ended up having a lovely conversation. I also realized we probably would never have spoken to each other had it not been for her surprising act of generosity.

There’s an even bigger reward in all of this. As Dunn discovered, “As giving-away became a habit rather than a hobby, I felt a new sense of warmth in all my relations with people.” 

Unfortunately, Dunn’s book is no longer in print, although there are used copies still floating around. If you can locate one, it will make a fine addition to your library.

Imagine what could happen if millions of people made giving-away a habit. Mind-boggling, isn’t it?

About six weeks ago, I wrote about my trip to the Dale Chihuly exhibit in San Francisco. Nevertheless, I was surprised to open my mailbox this morning and discover a large package from Chihuly Studios. Since I knew I hadn’t ordered anything from there, I thought it might be a belated birthday gift. I was wrong. It was a gift from Chihuly’s executive assistant and included a copy of one his books and a compilation DVD. 

What had prompted this gift? I wasn’t the random winner of a drawing, but the recipient of a thank you that came in response to something I’d sent the artist a couple of months ago. Here’s the original letter I sent:

Like many parents and grandparents, I was delighted to discover your art kit for kids and gave it to my three-year-old granddaughter last Christmas. Long before she was toilet trained, Zoe approached making art with an earnestness and concentration that seemed exceptionally mature. I had also been talking to her about Venice and about your work, which she had seen at Bellagio.

A couple of months ago, Zoe and I began exploring the kit. First we did the Marshmallow Madness exercise and then we went back to her room and talked a little bit about some other things in the book. She turned to a blank page and drew an oval and the little body underneath. I asked what she was doing and she said, “I’m drawing Chihuly as a boy.” While she was working, I said, “You know, Chihuly says he never met a color that he didn’t like.” She didn’t acknowledge that she’d heard me, but kept on working. When I saw the final picture, I knew she had taken in what I said.

So I present to you, a copy of Chihuly as a Boy by Zoe Barron.

Thank you for bringing so much beauty and joy to the world—and inspiring the next generation of artists.

Of course, I was thrilled to get the response, but that wasn’t why I wrote the letter in the first place. Showing appreciation to people who enrich my life is a longtime hobby. Sometimes I get an answer back, but even when I don’t, I know that I’m adding to the pool of kindness in this world. We simply can’t have too much of that.

Genuine giving feeds joyfulness. The more generosity, the greater joy. And we can be more generous than we ever thought possible. ~ Geri Larkin