On Letter-Writing . . .

letter writing I love getting letters in the mail. Meandering thoughts, one-of-a-kind handwriting, heartfelt sentiments. It all makes me happy.

In the fourth grade, we had a year-long class assignment that centered around studying the United States. We paged through encyclopedias and stared up at wall-mounted maps, handwrote reports, memorized state capitals, tasted regional foods, and corresponded with fourth graders around the country. My pen pal was from Louisiana and she started all of her letters with “Hi, hay, hello.” (Yep, hay.) Our communications fizzled come fifth grade, but my love of sending (and receiving letters) had only just begun.

In high school, I had a slew of international pen pals. I remember spotting an ad in the back of one of those teen magazines. For a few bucks and a SASE, I could get a list of addresses of 12 teenagers living in other countries—all who were just as letter-hungry and world-curious as me. From that moment on, my universe opened wide up.

Fast-forward 20-plus years. I still love sending and receiving handwritten letters, but times have changed. Correspondence is a dying art. E-mail is vying to take its place. Even if the purpose remains the same, the intimate nature is being swept away. Arial 10 pt (or its likeness) has taken the place of penmanship. The suspense (on both ends) is stifled. Bam, it’s sent—and received. Game over. A drop-everything instant response has come to be expected. E-mail is distracting—and unglamorous—tucked in between messages about a Shutterfly sale and LinkedIn updates.

So I was excited when my workplace decided to buddy up with the Timilty Middle School’s Promising Pals program. The idea of corresponding with a 12 year old is sweet and all—but even more importantly, it’s teaching these kids the art of question-asking and fact retention and rapport building and patience. All awesome things—and all awesome reminders for us grown-ups, too.

The child I’ve been paired with seems totally charming. Her favorite colors are red and purple and she loves video games and animals. I look forward to her sweet handwritten letters. As these layers unfold, I am reminded of all those international pen pals that I stayed in touch with through much of high school. Getting to know someone without the face time, without interruption, and with no pretense, is a rare treat.

Note to self—and other letter-lovers out there: Get on board with the More Love Letters movement. Gorgeous idea! Check out Hannah Brencher’s TED talk and get inspired.

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©2013 Good Karma Housekeeping. Because the joy of reciving something handwritten in the mail is undeniable. (Photo by mrchrisadams via Creative Commons.)

 

Wonder Without Googling

Wonder Without Googling I got a set of World Book encyclopedias for Christmas in the sixth grade. With all those foil-embossed books just beyond the foot of  my bed, I felt mighty and all-knowing. A little page flipping (and maybe some cross-referencing), and I could find out just enough info to satisfy any and all of my kid intellectual curiosities.

Nowadays, I've got this little phone that sits just inches from my pillow--and a larger, glowing box that's pretty much always at arm's length. In an instant, I can look up anything I want on these devices--and I do.

Do I ever. Especially when I should be asleep. Sleepy-eyed googling, I have no shame. Plagued by an obscure desire to find out what ever happened to Tato Skins or The Sundays or my kindergarten boyfriend (he climbed Pike's Peak--or at least somebody with his name did).

So, when I read the 18-point contract that mother gave to her son along with a shiny new iPhone for Christmas, I was struck by the eloquence and the agelessness of her advice. But it was #17 on that contract that stood out to me the most: Wonder without googling.

It's powerful to have these tools at my fingertips that will give me the answers to pretty much anything I ask of them--in a matter of seconds. No matter where I am, no matter the time of day. And it's exhausting to have all of that information swirling around in my head. It's enough to make me miss the days of my leatherette World Books.

I'm cleaning up my online habits in 2013. Less Facebook, more face-to-face time. Less surfing, more diving in. And with that comes wondering without googling.

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©2013 Good Karma Housekeeping. Because some things are best left to imagination. (Photo by ~C4Chaos via Creative Commons.)