The lost art of letter writing

It has been some time since my last post. There is not much to report at this juncture. I have been exercising regularly, engaging in a 40-minute session at a 15 percent incline, with a pace of 17 minutes per mile, and I have experienced a positive impact. However, I have encountered persistent discomfort in my left foot’s plantar fascia. While I have faced similar challenges in the past and am confident in my ability to overcome them, I have not yet weighed myself since my previous post. I intend to wait at least four weeks and continue to prioritize a balanced diet and consistent exercise. This evening, I felt compelled to share this brief update and inform you of another intriguing discovery I have made.

Recently, I watched several classic films from the 1940s and 1950s. These films, which I consider to be part of the “old movies” category, have always held a special place in my heart. Recently, I watched “Love Letters,” which prompted me to reflect on the numerous films that depict letters exchanged between friends and family members during wartime. This prompted me to compare the emotional impact of Gump’s letters to Jenny in “Forrest Gump” with the themes explored in “Love Letters.”

While “Love Letters” encompassed a broader range of themes beyond letter writing, it brought to mind the significance of letter writing as a lost art form. The ability to communicate through handwritten letters has become an extinct aspect of modern communication.

In the past, writing letters was the sole method of communication over extended distances. In the present era, we can speak to anyone globally within seconds. This technological advancement has prompted me to reflect on the evolution of communication.

Over a decade ago, I contemplated whether my diary had transitioned to an electronic format. I visited a store to retrieve an old diary, only to discover that the clarity of my handwriting on paper was directly proportional to my emotional state. My intricate drawings and emphasis, which could only be achieved with a pen, were evident.

This evening, I resolved to test my long-forgotten ability to write letters. However, my attempt was unsuccessful. Spelling, grammar, and readability were compromised. Consequently, I opted to use my laptop and compose a letter. Nevertheless, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of absurdity in this endeavor.

I wondered what made a letter once so appealing. I recalled letters from my favorite sitcoms, like M.A.S.H. In an episode, Trapper spoke to his wife on the phone, ending with a short “I Love You.” Another episode showed her writing about her love for him, which lasted the entire show and was remembered in the next episode.

Reading a letter, knowing someone took the time to write it, makes it more meaningful. It’s permanent, and even if they regret their words, you have a record.

E-mails and texts are convenient, but letters have a unique flair. Their curves are part of the individual’s uniqueness, making them memorable. A well-written letter has more precious meaning. I remember the joy in Christmas letters, and the sadness in sad ones. You can’t convey that in text or email.

Curiously, my unsuccessful attempt to compose a letter using a pen left a profound impression on me. It prompted me to question my self-awareness at times. This recollection evoked numerous instances when I felt utterly uncertain about my identity and my role in the world. Subsequently, it reminded me of the advice provided by my Political Science instructor during my academic and personal struggles. He had remarked:

"All we do in life is a journey, and taking the next step is the most important part of any journey." 

What excites me about taking those steps over the past 48 years is that I have encountered individuals in the exact location at the same juncture of their lives, yet we arrived there through entirely distinct pathways. Subsequently, we take another step in perfect synchronization, which consistently leads us to a new destination.

Strange! So, I made a second effort to write a letter before I quit. Give it a try. It made me think about myself, my past, and some simple things I cherish!

Carry on my friends, carry on!

Comments from my original blog - I merged the blogs.

SteveQ

I know someone else who just blogged about the same thing. She reminded me that I once was a great letter writer; old girlfriends kept my letters and show them to their husbands as examples of romance.  Then they ask if I want them back. Thursday, January 14, 2010 at 10:08:40 AM CST

Helen

Neat post Londell. I have not written a letter in about 3 years or more. When I lived in Japan around 200 I used to write letters home every week! But even then I think by the end of my time there I had transferred to typing them on the computer. I should try again... that's a great idea! I love how seemingly simple things like this make us think about so much more.  Helen. Sunday, January 17, 2010 at 9:08:19 PM CST

Beth

I used to write letters in college, but no more. What I miss most is the personality that comes through in the handwriting and choice of pen and paper. I'll have to give it a try. A Valentine's letter would be a nice gift.  Wednesday, January 20, 2010 at 7:23:56 PM CST

Karen G

In some of my mother's stuff, I found a letter my father wrote to her. It was from some time in the '50s. He was in Washington, D.C., for some farmers union trip. I was amazed by it. He had died when I was 19, and it felt so personal even though he was just talking about average things he was seeing and doing. It made me feel so close to him. People should write.  Wednesday, January 20, 2010 at 7:58:17 PM CST