What giving has taught me

What follows is not a record of giving. It is what giving has taught me.

Much of what I know about giving, I learned by watching.

I have been blessed to follow Master Jeff Chew on pilgrimages and visitations, at home and abroad, and to see how he meets a need when one appears — unplanned, impromptu, in deed or in funds, never announced. When calamity strikes, near or far, he is first to act and last to discuss it.

This is the practice he has shown me. Give time. Give what is needed. Do not seek recognition; do not carry agenda. The act, complete in itself.

One further discipline: a kindness extended to gain advantage, or one that diminishes the person receiving it, is no kindness at all.

An act of kindness is not a business tool. It is the loving kindness that carries depth and meaning into the final creation — a journey of the senses that nourishes the mind and endures as memory.

Conservation is also a form of giving — and of caring for home. It is what grants us permission to exist, to co-exist within the balance of an ecosystem to which we belong.

The giving I do through the institution is a way to open the practice to others — colleagues, partners, shareholders, invited to take part, not to be recognised. The discipline multiplies when shared. And the benefit returns to more people, and to the place we operate from and earn from.

Joining an educational institution is another way of giving. I am present for the student in front of me. This is not legacy. The word is too large for me. What I was given, I give now.

What I have learned, my mentees learn. Whatever their station — rising or arrived, public or quiet — the practice is the same. I remind them, again and again, to honour it.

What follows is record, not showcase — that the practice is lived, not declared.