We all love to complain about the problems in our communities.

Homelessness.

Housing.

Crime.

Poverty.

Addiction.

Mental health.

The cost of living.

Government.

The list goes on and on.

And we have plenty of opinions about what someone else should do about it.

But there is a harder question:

What are you doing?

Not what should the government do.

Not what should the city do.

Not what should nonprofits do.

Not what should your neighbor do.

What are you personally willing to do?

Because a community isn’t some abstract thing that exists somewhere outside of us.

We are the community.

If we want our communities to be different, we have to participate in making them different.

Put your good where it does the most

Ken Kesey is credited with saying:

“Put your good where it does the most.”

I think about that a lot.

Everybody has something they can contribute.

Maybe you’re good with tools.

Maybe you’re good with computers.

Maybe you’re good at organizing.

Maybe you can cook.

Maybe you can fix things.

Maybe you can teach.

Maybe you’re good with animals.

Maybe you can listen.

Maybe you have an extra room.

Maybe you have a truck.

Maybe you have money.

Maybe you simply have time.

You don’t have to be rich.

You don’t have to start a nonprofit.

You don’t have to become an expert.

You just have to find something you’re good at and put it somewhere it can do some good.

Find your gift. Give it away.

Pablo Picasso is often credited with saying:

“The meaning of life is to find your gift. The purpose of life is to give it away.”

I don’t know if solving Chico’s housing problems is something I can do by myself.

It isn’t.

But I do know that I have skills, experience, ideas, time, and a willingness to work.

So I’m trying to put those things to use.

That’s what service means to me.

Not charity from above.

Not feeling sorry for someone.

Not saving people.

Showing up.

The Qurbani principle

There is a principle in the Islamic tradition of Qurbani that I have always found interesting.

Qurbani is associated with the sacrifice made during Eid al-Adha, and the meat is traditionally shared with others, including people who are in need. A common practice is to divide it into portions for oneself and one’s household, family and friends, and those in need.

What I like about the idea isn’t really the meat.

It’s the principle of sharing what you have.

I try to apply that principle to many areas of my own life.

My time.

My money.

My attention.

My effort.

My knowledge.

My skills.

Even my love.

I need some of those things for myself.

I need to take care of my own life. I need time to rest, money to survive, attention for the things that matter to me, and energy to keep going.

But I don’t want to consume everything I have.

I want to reserve a portion of what I have for other people.

Maybe that means helping someone fix a bicycle.

Maybe it means spending an afternoon helping an organization.

Maybe it means giving someone a ride.

Maybe it means sharing something I know.

Maybe it means giving someone a little money when they need it.

Maybe it means simply sitting with someone and paying attention.

And sometimes it means giving somebody something much harder to measure:

love.

I don’t think generosity has to mean giving everything away.

In fact, I don’t think that’s sustainable.

I think there is something healthier about recognizing that we have limited resources and intentionally deciding that some portion of those resources will be used to benefit somebody besides ourselves.

That’s the part of the Qurbani principle that I carry with me.

Not the meat.

The practice of sharing what I have.

Service doesn’t have to be complicated

We sometimes make helping people sound like it requires a grant, a board of directors, a strategic plan, a case-management system and a dozen forms.

It doesn’t.

Sometimes service looks like helping someone move.

Sometimes it looks like fixing a bicycle.

Sometimes it means giving someone a ride.

Sometimes it means mowing a lawn.

Sometimes it means cleaning a cat box for someone who can’t do it themselves.

Sometimes it means sitting down and listening to somebody who hasn’t had anyone listen to them in a long time.

Sometimes it means opening a spare room.

Sometimes it means hiring someone who needs an opportunity.

Sometimes it means picking up trash in your neighborhood.

Sometimes it means teaching somebody a skill you take for granted.

And sometimes it means simply asking:

“What can I do?”

We need fewer spectators

It is easy to sit on the sidelines and criticize.

I do it too.

But criticism without participation doesn’t build a community.

If you see a problem, get involved.

If you think something is broken, help fix it.

If you think someone needs help, offer some.

If you have an idea, try it.

You might fail.

That’s okay.

You might discover that the problem is much harder than you thought.

That’s okay too.

At least you’re no longer just talking about it.

You’re doing something.

A Chico first step

If you live in Chico and you’ve been complaining about homelessness, housing, poverty, addiction, mental health, crime, or the general direction of our community, here’s a simple place to start.

Give one day.

Not necessarily money.

Not a political argument.

Not a speech.

One day.

Find an organization, neighborhood group, church, nonprofit, shelter, community project, animal service, food program, cleanup effort, or other group that is actually doing something in the community.

Then call them.

Ask:

“What is one thing you need help with that I can actually do?”

Don’t start by telling them how broken the system is.

Don’t start by explaining what everybody else should be doing.

Ask what they need.

Maybe they need someone to sort donations.

Maybe they need help cleaning.

Maybe something needs to be repaired.

Maybe they need somebody who understands computers.

Maybe they need transportation.

Maybe they need help preparing meals.

Maybe they need someone to spend time with people.

Maybe there is administrative work that genuinely needs a human being.

Maybe they simply need somebody reliable who will show up.

And if you have a professional skill, offer it.

A plumber.

A contractor.

A mechanic.

A computer technician.

An accountant.

A lawyer.

A business owner.

A landlord.

A retired person.

A person who knows how to organize things.

A person who knows how to listen.

Everybody has something.

The purpose of life is to serve

Leo Tolstoy wrote:

“The sole meaning of life is to serve humanity.”

That’s a pretty big statement.

I’m not sure any of us needs to take it quite that far.

But I do think there is something powerful about the idea that our lives are not measured entirely by what we accumulate.

Maybe some of what makes a life meaningful is what we give away.

Our time.

Our knowledge.

Our skills.

Our compassion.

Our resources.

Our attention.

Our experience.

Our willingness to show up.

And maybe even our love.

This is a call to service

I’m not asking everyone to become a social worker.

I’m not asking everyone to volunteer forty hours a week.

I’m not asking everyone to solve homelessness.

I’m asking something much simpler:

Find one thing you can do.

Find something you’re good at.

Find something your community needs.

And connect the two.

Put your good where it does the most.

Take a portion of what you have—your time, your money, your attention, your effort, your knowledge, your love—and put it somewhere it can do some good.

You don’t have to give everything.

Just give something.

Because if we all wait for somebody else to fix our communities, we’re going to be waiting a very long time.

But if each of us contributes something—even something small—we stop being spectators.

We become part of the solution.

So here’s my challenge:

What is your gift?

What do you have to give?

And where could you put it to work?

Chico doesn’t need more spectators.

Chico needs citizens.