What Am I Receiving?
We live in a pervasive culture of entitlement. It is fashionable to imagine: “I’m a self-made person. I got to where I am by my own considerable efforts. I pay my own way and don’t owe anything to anyone.” While it may feel good to entertain this lofty position, it could hardly be further from the truth. It is a convenient lie. For all of us.
No one grows to adulthood “on his own.” Each of us is alive because someone gave us our life, fed us, clothed us, sheltered us and offered us protection for many years. Human children cannot survive in the wild “on their own.” Face it, we are all here thanks to the efforts and support of others. Modern psychologists give much emphasis to emotional wellbeing. This can blind us to the reality of the physical and financial support each of us must have had to reach adult life. We simply take all this for granted as if it is our “right.” It is altogether common to focus on the quality of parenting and miss the fact of it. “My father was distant and rarely ‘there for me,” we hear someone whine. What are they missing? Did he provide a home for you? Did he pay the bills for your food and education? Perhaps not, but you lived somewhere and someone was supporting you.
The elephant in the living room, is the indisputable fact that each of us is alive and thriving (or even existing) thanks to the efforts of countless others. All of us without exception consume food, energy, and knowledge given to us by others. When have you stopped to take stock of these ongoing gifts? Perhaps you say, they are too many to count. This is a convenient excuse to avoid facing reality. There is value in actually counting this countless list. To investigate the truth of this claim I invite students to respond to the question: “Thanks to whom are you here?” Here can mean, in this room now, or alive today or whatever makes sense to you.
Try this now. Stop for 15 minutes and begin a list of all of those who have contributed to your life right now. Be specific. Generalizations don’t offer the insight gained from a specific example. Some may be people you know personally, some may be people you know by name, others whose names you don’t know, but recognize their contribution, e.g. “the person who engineered the software for this computer made it possible for me to be typing now.”
Continue to add to the list . . . do this for a half hour if you can.
I gave this assignment to a class of Stanford University students in an Improvisation class. Their lists were long and impressive. They all agreed that this line of thinking was a new direction, and a useful one. Seeing what sustains us as “a gift” rather than an entitlement creates a new world, one in which our stock has gone up. We begin to view ourselves on the receiving end. The formal way to ask this question is: “What have I received from others?”
The word receive is a powerhouse. I don’t think Westerners mine this word for all it can mean. The Japanese have a polite phrase “itadakimasu” that is heard dozens of times a day in ordinary situations. Literally it means “I am receiving” or “I notice that I am receiving.” It is said instead of a grace before a meal. “I notice that I am about to receive nourishment.” It is used when someone proffers a gift. “I notice that I am receiving a present from you.” It is a cultural heads-up, an announcement to the world that I am aware of being on the receiving end of some transaction.
It is the opposite of entitlement.
The self-made man in the West pays his own way. When he receives the sirloin steak in a restaurant there is no sense of it being any kind of gift since he is paying for it. Paying for something cancels any notion of indebtedness. The illusion of money robs us of having to become aware of the experience of receiving. “I’ve bought this or I own this” is a natural way to avoid discovering a vital truth about how life works. We are all here thanks to the ongoing effort of uncountable others. What can help us break through this arrogance is to actually start counting. Perhaps start by counting the number of meals your mother made for you up until age 10, for example.
I think the Japanese have got it right. When a plate of food arrives in front of us we are receiving something. And, if we examine it, that food has a chain of suppliers who have made it possible. There is the farmer who grew the food, the middlemen who brings it to market, those who prepare it and serve it, to name a few. This logical chain is a real one and it results in a consumable that allows me to live. The remarkable book, Thanks a Thousand,ˆby A. J. Jacobs traces one man’s investigation into the 1000 names of people all of whom contributed to his cup of coffee on a given day.
It’s a tragedy to miss this understanding. The best we usually hope for is to like the taste of the steak and consider it was perfectly cooked. Then we say “It was delicious!” But we still have not understood that we have received it. It strikes me as especially egregious when, for example, we complain about the food taking a long time to come, or about the personality of the waitperson. It is not uncommon to leave the restaurant dismissing it all as “poor service.” And all the time a dozen people have been working to feed me and nourish me. How easy it is to miss all that we receive.
Victor Frankl’s moving book, Man’s Search for Meaning, reminds us that regardless of circumstances each of us chooses his own attitude toward life. Life itself is a gift any way you look at it. Fear may prohibit this discovery. No one wants to feel indebted. We all like to imagine that we are “paying our way, pulling our weight, doing our share.” If I truly understand my indebtedness it can wake up an impulse to give something back. And, as we count the physical labor and effort involved in each step of the process we can cultivate a healthy understanding of our place in the world.
I invite the reader to spend an hour and answer this question. “What have I received from others that makes my life what it is today?” I predict you will discover that you are receiving much. This truth can change your life. It did for me.
Patricia Ryan Madson
El Granada, California, USA
Emerita, Stanford University
February 19, 2024
First draft: November 3, 2015
