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No one writes letters anymore. Especially love letters. It’s all text messages and Whatsapps nowadays and while these are perfectly good and extremely convenient ways of communicating, they are throwaway comments that make us feel only momentarily and then they are gone. Forgotten and lost, and in losing letters we are losing the art of translating our souls into words.
Yes writing letters, of love or of life takes time. It is a ponderous art that forces us to slow down, but for me there is something so romantic about that notion that you will stop time to be heard. When we commit our words to paper and write to someone we lay ourselves bare, as we watch our thoughts and emotions bleed onto paper and forever become apart of this world we become storytellers, we reflect and become more mindful as a result.
And through our inky journey we face reality in a far greater way than ever before. We are confronted with raw emotion. In conversations online it is easy to hide – to deviate. But when you smooth out that piece of paper, give your soul over to someone else and then send it out to be read there is no delete button; no going back. We give ourselves over to judgement and exposure the second the pen touches the paper. We become vulnerable and honest beings.
My new motto is ‘send your love to me in letters, in word that I can keep long after you are gone.’ Because I want to have a piece of the people I love in hardcopy and I want them to have the same from me. And in years to come our letters can be read and re-read again. Held and wept over as a reminder of something magical – of something real.
