For the past couple of weeks, I have been working on getting rid of things in my apartment that I don’t need. I have so much stuff, and I have a hard time getting rid of things that someone gave to me. But do I really need to keep something just because someone that I love gave it to me?

I have been thinking about the importance of gift-giving, and I’ve been thinking about how I give gifts and how I receive gifts. I like receiving gifts. I like getting something from someone that I love and knowing that they were thinking about me when they bought that thing for me. Sometimes the nostalgia of a gift can be so deep that it feels painful.

My first or second year in China, my parents sent me a box around Christmas time. The box included some of my favorite treats from home, and I thoroughly enjoyed the chocolate truffles. And then I found a calendar. I love calendars, and I usually get one every year. I even have a special rule that I’m not allowed to look at the pictures when I buy the calendar so that I can enjoy the surprise each new month of a brand-new picture. Nature calendars are my favorite.

This calendar was a picture of dogs and cats in cute little outfits. Some of them had glasses. The pictures were cute, but the best part of the calendar was all of the notes that my parents and other family members had written into the calendar. My parents had written little notes on extra special days, reminding me that they love me. They had also taken the calendar to my church back home and asked random people to write little notes on different days, and I loved reading the notes throughout the year—I still followed my rule of not looking ahead.

My sister had also written a long note covering all of the Saturdays throughout the year. And she knew that I wouldn’t look ahead, so she usually ended her note for the month in the middle of a sentence and sometimes a cliff-hanger. Throughout the entire year, I was reminded of my family and how much I love them and they love me. I still have this calendar.

I also have countless precious gifts from students. I have earrings, notes, Chinese knots, stuffed animals, small figurines, a qipao (traditional Chinese dress), and more. My students are endlessly creative and sweet in giving me gifts, and I love their thoughtfulness and kindness.

I have treasured many of these gifts for years. I remember the students who gave them to me, and I remember our special times together. I really like some of the gifts, but some of them aren’t quite my style. But getting rid of these precious gifts feels so guilty. How can I possibly get rid of something from someone who was important to me?

Several years ago, I heard something that helped me so much with this difficulty. If a gift doesn’t add something to my life, then it could be a hindrance to the direction that I’m going rather than a help.

I love and value every person who has given me a gift (as well as many people who don’t give gifts), but that doesn’t mean that I need to keep every gift I receive.

As I have spent time and energy getting rid of things and throwing things out, I have noticed a lightness and freeness that I haven’t felt in a long time. When I was clearing out one section of my wardrobe, I ended up with some empty space. I was trying to decide what to do with that space and couldn’t think of anything to put there. I decided to wait till my roommate got home and ask her.

“Wow! That looks great!” She said when I showed her my newly cleaned shelf. Her support of my small accomplishments is such an encouragement to me.

“Thanks! So my next question is what to do with this extra space. Any ideas?”

“Hmm,” she thought for a moment. “What if you don’t put anything there and just enjoy the luxury of having some empty space?”

*Insert mind blown noise*

“I never thought of doing something like that! But I love it!” About a week later, that space is still empty, although I did think of something that I might need to use it for. But what a luxury to have extra space around me. I don’t have to completely fill up every corner of my life with stuff. In fact, I’d like to create more empty spaces. In art, empty space gives our eyes time to rest and the focus to see what’s really important in a painting. Maybe my apartment needs to function in a similar way. Maybe I need empty space to give myself space to rest.

Since I’m so thankful for the emptiness and space I have as I get rid of things, does that mean that I think we should stop giving gifts to people? What if they will just get rid of whatever gift I give them? What if it doesn’t fit or they take it back?

Does that matter?

Giving gifts that someone will like is important, but we can’t be right every time. It’s hard to match the calendar that my parents sent me that year for Christmas, but does that mean that I hope they stop giving me gifts?

Some people in my life don’t like getting gifts because they want to minimize their stuff, and I can understand and respect that.

But I also value the thought and love behind gift-giving. I don’t think we should stop giving gifts just because I might throw it out later or the person I give the gift to might not like it. I want to keep using this to show my love to people.

In some ways, I like the Chinese practice of giving money in the form of hongbao (literally, red packet/envelope). Chinese people usually give money as gifts for the Spring Festival (which I usually compare in importance and some traditions with Christmas). They also give money at weddings. In some ways, just giving money is easy. You don’t have to think about the perfect gift that someone will like, and you don’t have to wonder if it will be something that they will use. Money is always useful!

When I tell my students about gift registries for weddings in the US, they’re always a bit shocked. “You mean, you just tell people what you want and then they buy it for you?”

“Yep, just like that.”

“But doesn’t that seem a little impersonal?”

“Maybe a bit, but at least you know that it will be something they will use, and no one else will buy that thing for them!”

At that point, they nod skeptically, and we move on.

But I’ve also talked to lots of Chinese people who don’t like the habit of giving hongbao for Spring Festival or for weddings.

“When someone gives you money for a wedding, you have to remember how much they gave you because when they get married, or if it’s an aunt or uncle, when their kids get married, you have to give at least that much money in return, or they will be offended.”

I went to one wedding of a Chinese couple who refused to accept hongbao. I didn’t know about it, so I hadn’t taken another gift, and I was a little disappointed that I wasn’t able to give them anything.

No system is perfect. Apparently even the culture of just giving money is fraught with potential pitfalls.

When I’m a bridesmaid in my friends’ weddings, I like to give them tea towels for their kitchens with their initials embroidered on one side. I like this gift because I think it can be useful and thoughtful, and the best part is that I don’t have to spend a lot of time thinking about what to get, just time making the gift–which seems easier to me!

Sometimes I will find just the right gift to give someone. For Christmas, I gave my roommate fuzzy pajamas because she had mentioned a few times how comfortable my fuzzy pajamas looked. She wears them almost every night (and sometimes when it got really cold we even wore our pajamas outside!). She tells me often that she absolutely loves them, and I’m so thankful that I managed to think of and give her the perfect gift. This doesn’t happen often because I’m not very good at giving gifts, but every time it does happen, I’m so thankful.

And even if a gift doesn’t hit that sweet spot when I give it to someone, I know that they can feel my love through my effort, and I don’t care if they need to get rid of the gift later on. Gift-giving is supposed to be wanting what’s best for that person, after all.