“The gift is to the giver, and comes back most to him–it cannot fail.” – Walt Whitman
I’ve been re-listening to my audio book of Seth Godin’s “Linchpin,” and something struck me differently this time. In the book he talks about the idea around potlatch, a ceremony among the native tribes in the Pacific Northwest of giving gifts. The key principle of the potlatch was that the richest person actually gave away the most gifts — this was a way of showing one’s generosity and wealth because of the amount that the person could give away.
I wish I had understood this principle earlier in life (I was the kid so focused on “getting” during the holidays that I once got my dad a tin full of popcorn that I helped him eat), but I am trying to make up for lost time.
NOW? I have a gift I cannot WAIT to give away. It’s to an old friend (“E”) that I’ve know for years and years, but haven’t seen much of in the last 10 years or so. She’s married with kids, and now so am I. We live in different states, and our lives are each filled with our own share of anxieties, excitements and opportunity. And yet while we rarely see each other, I have no doubt that we would still consider each other good friends, simply because of the tight bond we had in junior high but especially in high school and into college. E was a rock, someone I could always count on to listen without judging, and someone I could always be myself around.

One of the first things I started going through in my journey through my own personal history were old letters. It may make me sound ancient, but I didn’t have an email account until I was 21… and even then service was spotty and expensive. Through many of my maturing(?) years the only ways I could communicate with friends were via ph
one or letters — and I am a notorious hater of phone talk.
I somehow managed to hold onto a treasure trove of old letters from family and friends… and especially from E. As I perused these letters and sorted them by person or “group,” I found an entire pile from E that I loved reading through. At some point, I realized that what I was reading was GREAT for me, but could be even more enjoyable for E to read. So I scanned the letters and cards (thanks to our IT guy who let me use the scan feeder at our work), and printed out about 100 pages of these letters to send to E for her birthday.

Her letters gave me encouragement, laughs and a welcome voice from home while I was away. Now, this gift to her will be a tremendous journal for her during a six-year span where letters were a key foundation of our friendship. It’s my way of
telling E that although we don’t see each other or talk often at all, she will always be a dear friend and her support and friendship is perhaps more cherished than she knows.
I did the same thing for my sister this Christmas — I found a pile of her old letters, scanned them and sent them back to her as a “thank you” for her support and love spanning many years. It was the least expensive gift I gave this holiday season, but judging by her reaction and gratitude it was the most valuable as well.
I see the possibilities of giving so many gifts like this, where I share back with others the gifts of memory that they’ve so generously given me through the years. It’s a bit strange, but the deeper I go into my own personal history, the more I realize the magic of the potlatch — the more of my history I give away, the richer brother, son, husband and friend I become. I get deeper and stronger connections with the people who are most important to me.
My personal history is shared by so many other people… and I want to give those memories back where I can.
So! What do you have sitting in your attic or garage that may be just as valuable to others as it is to you? Now may be a great time to start planning out those very valuable and memorable gifts in 2011 that you’ll have the privilege of sharing.
thanks