Sometimes we call talents “gifts.” I wonder what we mean by that. Is a talent a gift to the person who possesses it, or is the talent to be given as a gift to others? 

Perhaps both. 

A few years ago, I had an epiphany. Then I forgot about it, and not 20 minutes ago I re-discovered my epiphany. 

I had read Anne Lamott’s book Bird by Bird, wherein she suggested that writing should not be motivated solely by the goal of publishing. Forget about publishing, she said. Rather, write as a gift to others.

I like to write, so publishing was always somewhere in my mind. Using my gift as a gift to others, though, was an intriguing concept. Looking back, I can recall a few times when I have done that, and perhaps it’s worth noting some here. They’re not all related to writing, but they’re related to using talents as gifts. 

  1. One summer I wrote two picture books (sans the pictures) and didn’t tell anyone. When my sister later had a beautiful baby girl, her situation reminded me of one of my picture books, which happened to be about a baby girl. In the spirit of “writing as a gift,” I made up a simple e-book version (sans the pictures) and sent it to my sister–and to no one else. Her email back was fulfillment enough for me. 
  2. Another time, when a co-worker was going to have a baby, I spent an inordinate amount of time writing a card that would accompany the actual gift I was giving to her. Given the number of words on the card and the transitory nature of such a card, you would think that the time I spent was rather excessive. But it came from the heart. When she laughed at the right places, it was worth the effort. 
  3. When my wife was pregnant with our first child (what’s with the baby theme here?), I wrote a lullaby for the baby-to-be and any future kiddos who might come along. When our little girl arrived, I would sing her that song as I rocked her to sleep. When she was first learning to talk and knew only a few words, I once picked her up in the middle of the day to calm her down and sang her that song. When I finished, she looked me right in the eyes and said, “Again.” What a sweet reward! Now all of my kids listen to the recorded version of that song on their MP3 players at night as they drift off to sleep. 
  4. When my grandpa passed away, my grandma asked my wife and me to sing a duet at his funeral. I am not an accomplished singer by any stretch of the imagination and rarely sing in front of other humans, most certainly not without a guitar in my hands. But how could I say no? As it turned out, my performance was not very good (that’s not modesty, that’s just acceptance), but the music wasn’t for the audience. It was for my grandpa. And my grandma, and my mom. And that was enough. 

None of these experiences resulted in financial gain or worldly recognition. Until I put these summations online, no one outside a small circle even knew about them. Yet, what gift doesn’t work that way? Gifts are personal. True gifts are given without expectation. Talents are gifts that work both ways.

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay