Buckets of Love

A story about generosity, connection and business

This is a story about stickers, buckets – and business. But mostly, it’s about love.

In a world drowning in ads, automation, and AI, it’s getting harder and harder to truly connect. But the smallest, most human things still break through.

Lessons in connection from Shindig festival

A few weekends ago, I was at Shindig Festival just outside Bristol with my brother, sister, sister–in-law and the best of friends. Saturday at Shindig always has a fancy‑dress theme. Previous years had given us easier prompts (last year was Magical Creatures). This year’s felt oddly abstract:

LOVE IS THE ANSWER.

It stumped us. How exactly do you dress as love?

After a flurry of WhatsApps and rejected ideas (Queen of Hearts, Cupid wings, What is the question?), I thought:

“What if we don’t dress UP as love… we BE love?”(I’m a hippy at heart).

And so, out came the red outfits. My ever-creative sister crafted us sequined buckets, draped with pink tassels, and we filled them with sweets, bubble wands, love-heart stickers, and little handwritten poems. Feeling a little ridiculous, admittedly, off we went, into the night, buckets in hand.

Stickers, tears and instant connection

The first man we offered something to from the Love Bucket looked suspicious. "How much?" he asked.

"Nothing," we said. "It’s just a gift." He dipped his hand into the bucket and pulled out a poem on a red cardboard heart. He read it slowly. Then his eyes filled with tears. "I needed that," he said.

A group of young girls, who'd had a tough evening of too much unwanted attention, softened as we approached. Stickers, badges and bubbles turned into hugs and stories. They thanked us for making their day, and danced with us all night.

And then there was the uber-cool man dancing alone. I placed a heart sticker on his cheek. "Thank you," he said, tears in his eyes. "My wife was meant to be here with me. But she died earlier this year. I'm here alone.” We danced for her.

By the end of the night, everyone in the tent – including the DJs – were covered in heart-shaped stickers. Bubbles floated through the air. And people weren’t just dancing in their own groups anymore. Something had shifted. We weren’t just giving out stickers. We were offering connection.

That connection came from giving; giving for absolutely no reason at all.

Why this matters off the dancefloor

On the surface, this was silliness. Festival fun. But underneath? I think there’s something interesting here.

We gave something small, without a catch, without expectation. And what we received in return were tears, stories, hugs, and connection. Real connection.

It reminded me of something I believe in deeply: that business is personal.

In business, as in life, I think we are starved for attention and authenticity.

We’re trained to give, but only if we get something in return. We hand out ebooks in exchange for email addresses, “freebies” with fine print.

Yet the magic at Shindig came from radical generosity, or what in Buddhist teaching is known as dāna. Dāna, as I understand it, is the practice of offering freely – time, care, presence, a small gift without any expectation of return.

“Generosity brings joy in every stage: when you think of it, when you prepare it, and when you give it.” — The Buddha, Dhammapada

Ironically, that’s when people respond. Because they feel seen and safe.

Real connection comes when you give for no reason.

As the little book The Go‑Giver puts it:

“Your true worth is how much more you give in value than you take in payment.”

Marketing needs a new intention

Too often in business, we give with strings attached.

What if we didn’t?

In the Valuable Content Marketing approach I helped devise and still believe in, we talk much about generosity and giving.

“When it comes to valuable content, the more you give, the more you get” is a tenet deeply embedded in our approach.

But this has become corrupted.

If the intention in giving is to get, then people feel it - and they distrust it.

What if we gave because it felt good to give? What if we practiced radical generosity: giving with no expectation? What if our generosity wasn’t strategic, or transactional, but sincere?

That’s when people trust you. That’s when they feel safe, and seen.

As Maya Angelou said:

"People will forget what you said. People will forget what you did. But they will never forget how you made them feel."

LOVE IS THE ANSWER.

That’s how we connect.

And it makes for a lot more fun all round.

What’s in your bucket of love?

Here's to more love and joy in business. Yes, even in / especially in difficult times.

Un-gate your valuable content. Free up your giving.

What small, genuine thing could you give your audience, your customers that reminds them they’re not alone?

Start small: a thank you note, a super-valuable insight, a moment of genuine attention – or even a badge or a sticker.

The smallest gestures can open the biggest doors. A simple act of genuine generosity and care reminds someone they’re not alone.

“This is for you.”

[This blog post came from a talk I gave last week at Bristol Speakers Club. Thanks to you all for letting me practise and for giving such lovely feedback.]