Wind Blows Through The Trees, But If I Look For It, It Won't Come, I Tense Up, My Mind Goes Numb, There's Nothing Harder Than Learning How To Receive

--"All I Need Is Everything", Over The Rhine

On The Big Bang Theory tonight I had the chance to witness firsthand when the social protocols of giving and receiving are not learned to a sufficient degree. Sheldon, upon receiving the news that his neighbor Penny has gotten him a Christmas gift, can only think of the pressure he is now under to reciprocate. Rather than thank her he immediately begins to complain about the burden she has placed him in. Of course, this is used for comedic effect on the show. In real life, however, I've seen firsthand how the understanding, or lack thereof, of giving and receiving can lead to some pretty harsh feelings.

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My predilection for not sharing desserts not withstanding, I tend to think of myself as a generous person. Admittedly, I won't be the first person to come say hello to everyone at a party or even say good-bye to people I know, but I've always prided myself on not being overly greedy with my possessions. I won't offer you the world, but if you wanted a somewhat small piece of it and it was in my power to give it to you, chances are I would. Of anything an individual could offer another individual, possessions are by far the easiest to part with and probably the easiest to get back. That's always been my overriding theory.

Indeed, history is filled with examples where I was perhaps too generous with my belongings. From "lending" out my bass guitar to my old manager Dennis four months after I purchased and never receiving it back, even after a fifteen year interim, to giving away my class ring to DeAnn, to the latest escapade of giving my beloved copy of The Wizard to Carly, I haven't exactly been smart who and when I choose to bestow something to someone. This is not to say that these are overtly nefarious people, but going into the exchange I knew each and everyone of these people weren't the most likely to return what I gave them.

Despite all this, as Anne Frank once said, I still believe people are good at heart. I still believe that the world is filled with people who are prompt about returning everything they borrow. That's why I choose to still carry on my philosophy of lending whenever possible as long as I've at the very least shared a meal with a person.

Or so I thought.

Having just moved in this past weekend, I'm starting to think that believing one is generous and being generous are two different beasts altogether. Even though I've known my cousin all my life and even though I've probably shared more material objects with him than any other person except one (guess who), I'm still discovering the idea of sharing everything in the condo to be a little wonky. It's one thing for someone to take something of mine when they have my permission, but sharing a place often means that the concepts of possession and permission get lost in translation. It was different with Amber. With her, we had clearly delineated lines of ownership. I had my section of the kitchen for my utensils and cookware. I had my own place to put my food in the pantry and refrigerator. Everything else I kept in my room.

Even with DeAnn, though we shared a lot, there was never the idea of things belonging to us as a couple. That's why at the end of it all, we both knew who was getting back what. If anything, I lost out on the deal because she took my Anita Blake books as well as my favorite Monet print of the two we bought.

Here, though, I have a skulking suspicion that things are going to be different. If it were just the fact that I'm used to using his stuff, that would be one point in that favor. But it's also the fact that we're both fairly generous people. So it was that, while the stinking internet is down I'm compelled to use his computer to type this, which makes me feel a tad weird. I'm rather used to the feel and conditions with which I type or, hell, even use the "internets" and computers in general. Aside from the occasional peek at my e-mail, fantasy scores, or something else that takes less than ten minutes, I'm a strictly monogamous computer user. I love my little white Macbook and she loves me.

Yet without hesitation he basically says his computer is my computer.

Why is it all I can think about is what he'll expect of me when it's my turn to borrow something huge unexpectedly?

I may be a generous person when it's on my own terms, but this new living arrangement is going to be a litmus test on how well I do when it comes to being giving of myself on understated and assumed terms. More importantly, it's going to be a litmus test on how well I do when it comes to receiving something graciously without assuming there's a hidden agenda behind it.

I'm not going to turn into Sheldon.

Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers