Why Is It So Hard to Receive?

Hi everyone,

This week’s insight is a reminder of a conversation I used to have with my kids when they were younger. I wanted them to notice kind moments. It’s so easy to become jaded and only see the negative, but I wanted them to take time each day to notice something kind.

I would ask them: Who did you lean on, and who leaned on you?

It always made for a great conversation. One part of the question asked how you gave to another, and the other part asked how you allowed yourself to receive. I wanted them to be aware of both because they both carry value.

What I realize personally is that it can still feel hard to receive. I’m great at giving, but receiving is another story. I know I’m not alone in this. How often do we turn down help, even though we could use it, or decline support because we think we should be able to handle it?

Why is it so hard to receive?

If you follow me on IG, you might have seen me post about my breathwork facilitator training with Lauryn Laszczak. Breathwork is an incredible practice I’ve been using for over a decade, and I wanted to share its benefits with my community and clients.

As part of the training, I got to help my friend Lauryn facilitate a breathwork session for a group of incredible women who signed up for a day retreat centered around the theme of letting go.

That morning, I had my hair blown out because I would be attending a wedding later that evening. (Don’t worry, this is an important part of the story.) As luck would have it, right when I got to the retreat venue, it began to pour rain. Typically, I wouldn’t care, but I had just spent time and money on a blowout that I needed to last. (If you’ve ever been in this position, you totally know the feeling.)

I reached into my backseat to grab my umbrella, and of course, it wasn’t there. I draped a sweater over my head and walked out to pay the parking meter. This proved to be quite the task, with only one hand available to download the app and enter all my information.

Right then, an older man walked out of the men’s tailoring shop I was parked in front of. He said hello and introduced himself.

“Hi, I’m Carl.”

I replied, “Hi, I’m Albiona. It’s nice to meet you.”

He immediately noticed my odd umbrella substitute and asked, “Can I get you an umbrella?”

At first, I was about to say no. But I really needed it.

So I said, “Actually, that would be great.”

I knew I had a long walk ahead of me, and I wasn’t sure how well my sweater draped over my head was going to hold up.

He brought me the most beautiful umbrella I’ve ever seen. It was a brown-and-beige plaid pattern with a heavy wooden handle. It looked like a vintage umbrella from another era.

I thanked him and said, “I don’t know how I’ll get this back to you.”

It didn’t look like any old umbrella. It felt special.

He said, “Don’t worry about it.”

I replied that as soon as it stopped raining, I would come back and find him.

He smiled and said again, “Don’t worry about it.”

My blowout was protected, and I was grateful for this stranger’s kindness.

Sure enough, once the rain stopped and I went to find him, he was gone.

My wise friend Lauryn asked me what I was doing.

I told her, “I need to return this umbrella. It seems really special, and I don’t want to take it from him. But he left, and I don’t know how to find him.”

She said, “What did he tell you?”

I said, “He told me, ‘Don’t worry about it.’”

She replied, “Then maybe the wisdom of this moment isn’t about returning the umbrella. Maybe you’re being asked to allow yourself to receive. You needed an umbrella at the exact moment this man showed up out of nowhere. He told you not to worry about returning it. Maybe you should just allow yourself to receive.”

The umbrella is still with me. I have it in my car, and I look at it every time I get in and out.

I think of his kindness and remember Lauryn’s words: Just let yourself receive.

This feels hard, but I’m working on it.

I’m not going to lie—I’ve been tempted to drive the 45 minutes from my house, park outside the store, and see if he’ll return. But I stop myself each time, and instead I think about what he gave me that day besides the umbrella.

I remembered that the kindness of strangers still exists.

It’s okay to receive.

God always brings you what you need when you need it. Just stay open.

You don’t always have to be the giver. Receiving is just as important.

Since that day, I’ve tried to notice what others around me need, just as he noticed me.

For example, I let a mother with young children go ahead of me in the grocery line, and she was so grateful because their patience was starting to wane. I helped my neighbor reposition her hanging plant because she wasn’t tall enough to do it herself, and she lives alone.

I’ve given in moments to others simply because I was paying attention.

I’m more present now, and I realize the power we all carry at any given time—how one small gesture can change somebody’s day, perspective, or mindset. How deeply connected we all truly are, and the impact we can have on one another, is invaluable.

For now, I will hold on to this beautiful umbrella and take good care of it.

That day, if I asked myself the same question I used to ask my kids—Who did you lean on, and who leaned on you?—the answer would be crystal clear.

I leaned on Carl, and he reminded me of the magic of giving and receiving, of staying open, and of the kindness of strangers.

Love always,

Albiona