Never Save Things for Best, Dear

In 2012 I was working on a charity event called Fabric-a-Brac. Fabric and haberdashery items are donated by the public and the money raised reselling them at a giant — and frequently vicious — town hall event, supporting the work of the Mary Potter Hospice.

As part of the event organisation, a friend and I had agreed to drive around and collect some donations from elderly members of the community who couldn't easily transport them to the venue.

One warm and friendly elderly lady gave us the most beautiful, hand-embroidered tablecloth to add to the sale. She said she'd worked on it during the second world war and saved it up as a special table treatment for the day her husband returned. But her husband never came home. It still brings tears to my eyes when I recall her words: "Never save things for best, Dear."

Why we save things for best

Johnny Gamber, Host of the Erasable Podcast, wrote an article last year suggesting that some of our reluctance to use our good stuff may come from a fear of regret. 

"We might regret pulling out that pen that we paid too much money for because we could drop it, scratch it, lose it, or it could even be much less nice than we thought before we paid too much for [it]."

I've know this feeling in the past as I've sharpened a pencil that's a bit rare (looking at you Blackwing 24, current value $40-$50), but I remind myself that I'm here now, the pencil is here now and it was actually made to be enjoyed. A greater regret would be never getting to use it at all.

Gillian Dunn has a TED Talk and article on the same topic. She suggests that this desire to hold on to things usually comes from one of two feelings:

The first is “I don’t have enough.”  In Western culture, this scarcity mindset entered around the time of the Great Depression, when many people held on to scraps of everything and anything, in the hopes that it would protect them against loss. And, let’s face it, capitalism thrives on telling us we need more, and more, and more. So when we have something we deem special, we might hold onto it, protecting ourselves from some vague future time when we might not be able to replace it or get more.

The other feeling is “I am not enough.” This is the feeling that something about us or our circumstance doesn’t live up to the promise of that special thing. The necklace is too fancy to wear every day, the china is too nice to put out just for family, the candle is too pretty to burn without a special occasion, and so on.

Dunn is an ER nurse, so she often sees people at the moment everything changes. And her message is, “Life is what you make it, so make it one that you enjoy.” It’s a mindset shift to remind ourselves that we have enough and we are enough to enjoy those special things right now, today.

Since losing quite a few possessions of my own — including many antique books and almost all of both grandmothers' "good" china — in the 2010 Christchurch earthquake, I've been pretty fearless about using the good stuff in my life, knowing that each article's time in my possession may be fleeting. 

It's turned out to be a surprisingly useful outlook since I opened the Bookshop. I frequently find myself helping customers wrap their heads around the idea that they should actually use the $7 pencil, the $50 notebook or the $300 fountain pen that they're about to buy from us. 

If you need a hand, start by considering how nice your day would be if you actually use the [insert nice thing in your possession]. 

For example, last year I bought Mr Blackwell a Burberry dress shirt (after a win on the slot machines in Las Vegas, but that's a story for another day). It remained in the original bag, on the shelf in his closet for almost a year because he felt that it's "too nice" to wear. I suggested he take it out and iron it for Valentine's Day dinner, and not in so many words he told me later that such a nice shirt gave him a shot of self-confidence. 

Some suggestions for using your best things up (as told by the internet)

I went scouring for some additional suggestions for overcoming this unique form of procrastination, and as is often the case, the internet had some interesting ideas. 

• Try meditating. Meditation and other mindfulness practices help us live in the moment (the only one we truly have) and stop projecting into the future, or reliving the past. Living more in the present moment might help you decide that present you is worthy of using your nice things.

• Set limits around how long or how many. If you find you have a tendency to collect nice things, try setting some rules on how long you can hold on to them, or how many you can have before you use one up. For example, set a rule that you can only keep that “special” candle for a year before you use it — or that you can only keep 3 “special” notebooks on hand at any one time.

• Remember that consumables help create experiences, and the memory of the experience will last longer than the consumable ever will. The memory of the pleasure you get setting the table with the fine china or drinking the fancy wine will last much longer than the objects will.

• Create your own special occasions! There’s no reason why a weeknight dinner isn’t a good enough occasion to burn the nice candles. Don’t wait for special occasions to happen when you can create them any time you wish.

• If you feel you have too much of something special you’ve saved up, why not give some away as gifts? You get the pleasure of giving and of knowing that the things will be appreciated and enjoyed. 

In the grand scheme of things, chances are that the circumstances in your life are perfect right now, so use the thing! You never know when your circumstances might change. 

So here's a reminder for anyone who needs to hear it today: It is nice to have the good stuff, but it's even nicer to use it.