Possessed

By Cindy Layton

I have some things in my possession.

I don’t possess them. They possess me. I’m charged with the task to give them away.

Their value is determined in a myriad of terms: financial, sentimental, historical and generational. Value is in part a reflection of both need and utility.

This is how it comes to be that twenty-somethings casually snub their nose at a nearly new TV. It’s not that it’s not a nice TV, it’s that it’s not a MacBook Pro. The value of a thing is transformed by perspective.

I like to imagine that, as one’s items are passed along to others, certain spiritual particles, the fairy dust of the soulish consciousness of its owner, are also distributed into the ether of the world. However, no such thing happens when the leftovers are shredded or landfilled.

The trick is to know which items contain fairy dust and which do not. With each whirr of the roller I wonder if I chose correctly. From the mounds of paper I hold aside a college orientation schedule and a guide to the Finger Lakes Region. Neither are wholly representative of the owner but I refuse to shred everything. I’m taking it on faith that the fairy dust is there.

It can be heartbreaking to know that some things might find no home. But, in the time of Marie Kondo, sentimental value is now relegated to a hide-away portion of one’s heart and the faulty function of one’s brain, both of which are subject to withering.

And so, I bring it back to writing. This idea of giving things away in a writing context is two-fold.

As writers, we offer that which is ours – the product of our intellect and our heart. What we give is judged. Sometimes it resonates in the hearts and minds and sometimes it can’t compete with the MacBook. We give it anyway and hope it finds acceptance.

Also, what we write (give) is grounded in our existence, our experience and the process of our creative mind. When we look at our accumulation of possessions and keepsakes, we assign intangible value to them and they, in turn, live vicariously in our writing. At times, the “objective correlatives” of our lives (or the values they represent) are transferred to our characters. (*)

What our characters value gives readers insight into their being.

The same goes for real people.

(*) See Elizabeth Solar’s excellent post on symbolism Driving That Train where she discusses the objective correlative.