From Me, To You.

If you tell me (or anyone for that matter) that you dislike receiving letters in the mail, chances are, you're lying. 

Letters are special. They are something to physically hold in your hand, to read over again, to carry with you and to collect. 

It's an intentional act, letter-writing.  

It requires time and willingness - to take a break, to sit down, to share thoughts and inquire about those of the recipient. 

The correspondence demands patience.

No part of the process can be rushed.

Writing a letter is rarely the most convenient way to communicate, and for that reason, it is one of the most heartfelt. 

Apart from face-to-face meeting, I can think of no other manner of interaction that relays such intentionality and care.

I have a goal to make my conversations with other people more personable.
For me, this currently looks like giving up text messaging (at least for the Lenten season).
This may sound extreme for some, but in my case, the urge to text is indicative of my wanting instant gratification, a quick remedy for boredom, and the desire for immediate responses to issues that often are of little urgency at all. 

Because of the choice to do without this, it also looks like making more phone calls and allowing myself the time not only to ask quick questions with the hope of receiving a quick answer, but to have a real exchange with another person in which we hear each others' voices.
And finally, it looks like setting aside more time to  close my laptop, step outside, and write more letters. 

So here's to phone-tag, voicemails, forever stamps, and our friends at the USPS for keeping this ship sailing.  

P.S. If you want a letter in your mailbox, send me your address and it just may happen.
-L

[Screen-printed stationery, via my Etsy Shop]