Letters

Whatever happened to the lost art of letter writing? Not a lengthy e-mail, mind you, but the act of putting a real pen to real paper; scribing full, thoughtful sentences in, possibly, an elegant script; expressing thoughts, emotions and desires; rereading it to ensure spelling and punctuation are correct and that thoughts are fully drawn (all essential to the true letter-writing artist); signing it; sealing it in an addressed envelope (kiss optional); attaching a postage stamp and dropping your creation in a real-life mail box.

No keyboard, no spell-check, no electronics, no 'Send' key. And no maximum of 140 characters.

Definitely no nausea-inducing, egocentric, this-is-how-we-stay-in-touch-with-our-dearest-friends-and-family Christmas-, New Year's- or Valentine Day, 'Loving Friends and Family, What a year it's been!' mass communique describing in painful detail your and your family's highlights, low-lights, dim-lights and all lights in between since a year ago when you last kept in close personal touch -- because Lord knows there wasn't even one lousy minute to call or write during the entire friggin' year -- with 'cherished friends and family' by sending one of those dreadful, make-me-gag, overly-indulgent, self-aggrandizing chronicles that may even include, kill me now!, your favorite book, your favorite movie, even your favorite recipe from the entire past year, that you couldn't spare the time or expend the enormous energy even to sign, much less personalize in any way whatsoever. Definitely not one of those. That's not a letter, even if it does come via snail mail. That's an affront.

(Whew. I knew I hated those, but didn't realize how much. I feel better already, thanks for asking.)

Instead, something warm, something personal. Your hand holding a writing instrument, your brain and heart creating a unique and thoughtful message to someone worthy of the effort and emotion. On paper, in your style.

A real-deal letter. Old school but, without doubt, special.

(Two points for anyone who can name the artist who painted the piece at right, "Lady Writing a Letter With Her Maid".)

So, whatever happened to writing letters? No time, no patience, no interest? Too last century? No need, especially when there's a slew of electronic alternatives? Or, possibly, do we not connect the same way with the special people in our lives?

We here at TJOW think it's likely a combination of all of the above. We do tend to run fast, with far too little time for ourselves. We do show little patience for and interest in introspection. We do have a plethora of electronic options -- all much faster and easier -- than writing and we do appear to prefer the convenience they offer: Short, rapid-fire, staccato, cursory connections requiring little effort. And, possibly, little thought.

Maybe our use of electronics is akin to the days in which drummers were used to communicate with neighboring villages. A clean and effective way to send brief, simple messages. And perhaps writing a letter -- a good letter -- is like the rich, textured, multi-layered sound of a symphony, where each sentence, each paragraph creates a warmth and depth far beyond the capacity of even the most brilliant drummer.

But, most importantly, it's likely that we're simply not that interested -- or practiced -- in expressing ourselves in meaningful ways to those we care most about. Our lifestyle, our modes of communication, our pace conspire to create a superficiality that undermines or, worse, precludes real connections. We avoid stopping -- or even slowing -- to smell the coffee. We are more comfortable when we're running fast and hard than when we are at rest. As many have admitted privately, maintaining a frantic lifestyle is a requirement for success.

Hardly a surprise, then, that Twitter is so popular. Who has time for more than 140 characters?

Our response? You do. Or, at the very least, you should. Start easy. Write a note to someone. A paragraph or two about how you're doing, how life is truly unfolding. Share something important about yourself and about your feelings for the person you're writing to. Sign it. And before you can second-guess yourself, mail it.

As you walk from the mailbox, know that in a day or two someone important to you will experience the warmth that only real friendship can provide. Know that you've touched someone in a lovely, heartfelt way.

Old school, to be sure. But so very sweet.