A few weeks ago, my car window was smashed and my purse stolen.
I hated that purse. It was cumbersome, with a worn out strap from closing it in the car door too many times. After I’d taken care of the usual theft business—cancelling credit cards, getting a new license, trying to recall what exactly I had lost—I began to realize why it weighed so much.
There were the usual items: glasses, chapstick, a wallet with credit cards, membership cards, and photos. I carried various pens and pencils, a small notepad and some lotion.
But the fattest area was the side pocket, my “gift” section.
Over the years, I’ve gotten wonderful gift certificates and gift cards from students, friends and family. I’ve received certificates to my local craft store, restaurants, spas, iTunes, bookstores, and department stores. I had free movie passes (with popcorn!), deluxe yarn, a manicure, and any coffee drink I wanted, ten times over. I carried the certificates with me everywhere but rarely spent them. Having them made me feel rich.
And now they were gone.
When I realized this, I did a mental tally of the value of all those “gifts.” Ouch.
A gourmet coffee drink tastes good. Cashmere yarn is nice to knit with. But I was doing none of that. I was hoarding, so fearful of losing the opportunity that I never actually took those opportunities. And in hoarding, I felt richer, but in fact I was poorer. I had less fun, saw fewer movies, had one less massage.
I have mended my ways. Two weeks ago, I had fun spending a new gift certificate in one sitting. Today, I returned a piece of clothing that didn’t fit. Instead of credit I came home with four new pair of socks.
Writers hoard too. We save pet phrases, beautiful passages and compelling ideas for the absolutely perfect moment. We create characters that we can’t bear to make suffer, so we hold back, pull punches, save the day too early, keep our character from desolation or horror or good old-fashioned loneliness. All of this is hoarding.
Annie Dillard talks about holding back as a writer:
“One of the things I know about writing is this: spend it all, shoot it, play it, lose it, all, right away, every time. Do not hoard what seems good for a later place in the book or for another book; give it, give it all, give it now. The impulse to save something good for a better place later is the signal to spend it now. Something more will arise for later, something better.”
― Annie Dillard, The Writing Life
I am no longer a hoarder. Of gifts, written or otherwise.

This is SO true, Linden! I have to kick myself to let it all go. Thanks for a lovely analogy.
You make a good point linden. Sometimes i feel like i hoard my dreams because they cant dissapoint me if i dont subject them to the scrutiny of actuality. Maybe no gift certificates for you this Christmas .
Keep the gift certificates coming! I’ve learned my lesson, I swear! : )
Good advice, but when I first read that you’d not used any of the gifts in your purse, I couldn’t imagine you hoarding. I COULD imagine you cherishing the love implicit in those symbols, and for that reason, not wanting to remove them.
Sorry about the purse invasion. Ouch.
Yes! You’ve said this so well, Linden. How ironic that it sometimes takes a harsh lesson where we experience pain, hardship or suffering before we can see clearly how we’ve been holding back. Or hoarding. Or doing the wrong thing for what we thought was the right reason. Sometimes bad things do bring good into our lives. I’ve always loved that Annie Dillard quote, but I need to hear it more often. Thank you for reminding me of Dillard’s wisdom–and exposing me to yours.
Great post, Linden. Bummer about the car break in, but what an amazing state-of-mind you took away from it. Also, I’ve heard that Annie Dillard quote as well; do you recommend the whole book? Thanks for sharing.
Such a great metaphor, Linden. Thank you.