Getting and Having

Along with my analysis of buying books, there's also something about getting and having that are interesting to me. As my eyes rove about my office, I notice things that I have that I like to know that I have but don't know if I'll ever put a lot of time into using them. For instance, I love having more copies of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare. I don't need another copy any more than I could use another car, but I'm not about to say no to one. (Since I started the new Shakespeare class, I had to get a new copy of The Complete Works. No choice in the matter. Greater good.) Even though I may not use the new acquisition, I'm glad that I have it.

This isn't always the case. A student once gave me one of those metal statute kits. You know the type: They look like they're made out of tin foil but turn out to be razor blades embedded in metallic stencils? Y'know, these things:

The only way this would be accurate is if the hand on the right were missing some digits or had the skin-graft scars visible. (Source)

I enjoy building those during my annual Stay At Home From Church But Still Feel Pious Sunday, also known as LDS General Conference.* So, in theory, the student's gift was useful and something that I would turn around and use. Right?

Nah. She got me a version of the White House. Considering I wasn't interested back when we didn't have an overt fascist in there, I'm not likely to be jumping up and down with anticipation to use the gift.

Yet I doubt I'll get rid of it any time soon. There's an obligation in my mind that I ought to somehow respect her gift by letting it sit unused in my drawer instead of finding a different place for it, which is silly when I cast it in that light. But I also don't want to build it. At all. I want to finish the Batmobile for my wife, then start on the castle I got whilst in Disneyland. I'm not about to spend my limited time of crafting-whilst-growing-spiritually on the gift. The having is almost more important than the getting, and is certainly more important than the using.

This happens with books. All of the time. I bought some books I was mildly interested in, but once I got them, I realized I would likely never crack the cover. But the concept of giving them away? Preposterous. Preposterous, I say!

Source.

It's interesting to me that the relinquishing of what I've been given is so difficult to do. I quickly attach sentimental value to too many things, and that leads to a lot of clutter in my life. There's an impulse that maybe I could get rid of more junk, and while that can sometimes work out (throwing away paperwork from a decade ago, for example), I can't say that I'm really interested in downsizing or minimizing my life.

Maybe someday.

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* I'm working during the Fall Conference, so I only get to stay home and play with these blood-letters in April.