One of the massive benefits of not having a 9 – 5 job
anymore is being freer to catch up with friends. Some of these catch-ups have
become regular events in my diary and I am greatly appreciating sharing my life
with these special people in a way that was not possible previously.
During some of these encounters I have wanted to say more,
share more deeply but somehow the face-to-faceness of it all has held me back.
I have been reminded that I felt similarly at school and my best friend and I
used to write to each other on a daily basis after school. Although we would
spend time at school together, both of us found it easier to share the more
personal stuff on paper. I can recall the anticipation of waiting to read her
next instalment. I still have those letters – there are folders of them. I was
reading something recently about photos being the possession that people would
save from a fire, I would have to add letters to that. My husband thinks it odd
that I save my letters and cards in shoeboxes and perhaps it is a little
sentimental but the re-reading of these communications creates immediate
memories and when I tried to get rid of some recently, I found myself both
laughing and crying at accounts of my sister’s life in Nepal and missing what
now feels like simpler times as I re-read notes of jokes from 6th
form days. I couldn’t get rid of one – there is plenty of room in the garage!
A letter is so much more than the words on the page because
something more tangible is being exchanged. You end up holding the paper that
they handled. A piece of their world has entered yours and you get to keep it.
Perhaps I will be sounding old as I post this but in an age
of technological communication I believe to lose letter writing is to lose
something precious. I was a little surprised to find that there are books
written on the topic of writing letters, one of which by J Willis Westlake
dates back to 1876. Within its pages he describes rules on composition, what to
do with mistakes (re-write the entire letter, of course) and even advice on
what kind of paper and ink to use. Whilst I think some of his details and rules
are superfluous the act itself provides a treasure for the moment it is
received but also if kept for years to come. Westlake
himself says ‘There is no other kind of writing that possesses for us such a
living human interest, as letters, for there is no other that comes so near to
the private lives, ‘to the business and bosoms’ of the writers.’
My sister has so impressed me with her letter writing. She
wrote to me regularly whilst she and her family were overseas and now she
writes weekly to her sons, both of whom are now at university. So perhaps with
the season of Christmas approaching now is a good time to reconnect with the
art of letter writing and perhaps deepen some relationships as a result. I’m
sure it will do me good to reflect on the special people in my life and maybe
some goodness will find its way into an envelope.
‘A good handwritten
letter is a creative act, and not just because it is a visual and tactile
pleasure. It is a deliberate act of exposure, a form of vulnerability, because
handwriting opens a window on the soul in a way that cyber communication can
never do. You savor their arrival and later take care to place them in a box
for safe keeping.’ (Catherine Field, writing for the New York Times)
No questions this week – just an encouragement to put pen to
paper. If a letter feels too daunting, start with a card!
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