Noel and I journeyed out into the snow in the late afternoon to buy my mom a present. I was feeling profoundly tired, but relaxed and in good spirits. We went to Barnes and Noble, and found what I think is a perfect gift rather quickly. Then we went to the overpriced cafe section and split an “apple purse,” a delicious pastry that I had never heard of before, and a root beer. On our way out we passed a table that was wrapping gifts for people for donations to The Boulder County Aids Project. Alright! Donate. Done.

So simple and so quick, but it felt good. On the way out I opened the door for a bunch of people, which also felt good, and then I looked back into the window of the bookstore and saw this book staring back at me:

I don’t want to sound like The Secret, but there is definitely something to the idea that what you focus on and put energy into makes itself more apparent to you. It seems that way to me, anyway.

I looked up the reviews on my old friend Amazon, and I am actually interested in this book:

Not a coffee table book. Not a “be nice” sermon from the land of the bodhisattvas.

This book is a rigorous argument, based on the history of European ideas and psychoanalytical doctrine, that we fail to recognize and value intelligently one of life’s greatest pleasures: generosity. It goes deep into the the scientific and political sources of our contemporary confusion and unhappiness.

The authors explain brilliantly how misunderstanding the paradoxical relation between kindness and hatred contributes to our chronic ambivalence toward other people and hence our inability to choose our actions well.

Beautifully written and succinct: the sort of book you finish in an afternoon and will definitely read again.

I might have to read it.

I like kindness. I like giving to others. And not because it’s nice or because it makes me feel like a good girl scout, but because it makes infinitely more sense than being a curmudgeon. I know this from experience!