I currently have someone in my life with whom I can only contact via letters. I am talking about snail mail, meaning hand writing or typing a cohesive self-narrative, putting a stamp on it, and sending it out into the world via the U.S. Postal Service. While this may not sound earth shattering, I’ve experienced a cognitive re-awakening. Living so fully immersed in the world of social media, texting, and email, I forgot what it was like to truly engage in traditional correspondence.
First, it was surreal to sit down with a blank page and attempt to fill it in a meaningful way beyond 140 characters.
I have become very comfortable summing up big thoughts in a somewhat reasonable Facebook post, but I was no longer accustomed to giving greater description to my comings and goings. I stumbled at first trying to figure out how much information was enough. Do I need to explain further here? Or should I transition there? Do I devote more words to one specific area? Or do I try to cover a broader range of topics? And how do you keep it flowing?
I also had to shift my mindset to write for an audience of one. Grant it, you can never assume tons of people are reading your posts, but from World Moms Blog to social media commentary, I craft my messages for possible mass consumption. The intimacy of going back to writing in depth to one person beyond your standard greeting card felt intense, which made me question how desensitized I have become in spewing my thoughts into the blogosphere.
Another point of adjustment was the delayed response time. In communicating digitally, I often receive feedback rather quickly in one form or another. In corresponding via the mail, there is no instant ping back. The mail carrier doesn’t give you a thumbs up to acknowledge your thoughtfully-crafted sentiments the minute you hand her your letter. You think through what you want to say, you write it out, you mail it, and you wait.
During the days in between our communication, I started to reflect on people who are separated for a time. I thought about my grandparents who spent time apart during my grandfather’s war service and how letters were the main way to keep in touch. How precious every word must have been, and how many times must they have re-read each letter. I think of people in the world today who are separated for similar reasons or those for whom technology is still a foreign concept. There are those living at a distance for work in order to provide for their families with no quick way to get in touch. I thought of the person I am corresponding with and how crazy it must feel going from being so plugged in to only writing with pen and paper.
I felt a weight at first to “get it right”….to sum up my life in a meaningful enough way without rambling too much. I also wasn’t sure how to keep my end of the correspondence fresh without feeling like I was rehashing the same “status updates.” But then a fascinating thing happened. We started to slide into focused discussion over a book that I had sent her. Today I received a letter that was so beautifully expressive and personal around a shared passion area that I grew several steps closer to my pen pal. In the past we have had meaningful exchanges in person, on the phone and via messaging, but this letter contained pages devoted to one single idea, written by hand as a window into the soul. A message delivered in what seems a dated, old fashioned way proved to be one of the most human, real exchanges I have had with this person.
And to hold the paper in my hands while reading her thoughts made me I feel like I was in another time.
It’s a funny coincidence with a novel I am currently re-reading that I bought way back in high school. It’s a small paperback with tiny font and smells of dark, dusty book shelves. I have read so many books on my e-reader over the past years, and reading an old book that is in my hands has changed the entire sensory experience of the novel. I am constantly at attention because I am holding the book open. The lights must be on fully bright and my glasses on to make it work. It takes so much more effort and attention, much like writing the letters.
While I wish communication for my pen pal was easier at the moment, the gift she has given to me is a reminder of the lost art of letter writing. As soon as I am done here, I will print a copy of this post along with my latest correspondence to send to her along with much gratitude.
Do you write and mail letters anymore? How does that experience compare or contrast with the other ways you communicate?
This has been an original post for World Moms Blog by Tara B.
Photo credit to redspotted. This photo has a creative commons attribute license.
Fabulous idea… but, no…
Not for me… I like my fast paced communication…
Maybe once the boys have left home?
I hear you, Karyn. While this has been an eye opening experience for me, I’m not ready to give up my instant communication. Thanks for your comments. 🙂
I still do write a lot. It’s a unique sensation that nothing can replace. There is a link created by letters sent and reveived. The connection seems more real for me.
And there’s the waiting part and the paper in the letterbox, the surprise. It’s definitely something I won’t give up Tara. Glad you enjoyed the experience.
Thanks, Marie. And yes, there is something so special about waiting to get something in the mailbox. I find whether it’s the holidays or my children’s birthdays, I am more on top of getting our mail daily because it is truly special to receive something other than ads and bills.
The lost art …
So often in life I think of a do over … one where I write letters to my children on their birthdays, craft prose for them to open on special days … the very last letter I actually remember writing was to my now ex husband when he first said he was leaving, laying out the beauty of the family he was giving up. Ironic really.
I think I should take pen to paper .. thank you for this xxxx
What a powerful letter that must have been for you! Sometimes writing out all those feelings and details is the only way to fully say what you need to say to someone. Thank you for sharing this!
Hi Tara
What a great post. I am English and have been living in the US for the last year and a half. I write letters to my 84 year old grandmother. We speak on the phone every week but I know she appreciates the letters also as she’s starting to lose her memory a bit and loves that she can re-read all the news about her great grandchildren whenever she likes.
She recently broke her arm so is unable to reply at the moment but is looking forward to resuming writing letters back to me when her arm has healed.
There is not much better than receiving a hand written letter but I am also so grateful that Skype allows my Grandma (and the rest of the family) to see the little ones growing up.
What a lovely gift…to allow your grandma to refresh her memory and/or re-enjoy stories of her great grandchildren through your letters.Thank you for sharing!
I have always been a fan of writing. I had several pen pals growing up and I still remember how I felt whenever I received a letter from my grandmother oversees. Yes, digital writing is so much easier and faster, but nothing beats a real handwritten letter.
When I’m taking notes by pen, my hand starts to ache after a while and my writing gets sloppy — I don’t think I am using those muscles enough!
The waiting of a return letter. That is the hardest part!!!
Great post, Tara!
With our digital communication, I only write notes/cards/letters to my older relatives that don’t use email or Facebook. You made me think of my younger days when I had pen pals around the globe. I loved writing, going to the post office to get stamps, dropping it in the mail slot….and yes, waiting for the response was always the hardest part…but the excitement of getting a letter in the mail! Hmmm….now you’ve made me think about this…my oldest loves writing…may need to find her a pen pal 🙂