The magic of pen and paper

A few days ago, I had the privilege to show my gratitude to three amazing people I know professionally.

I did what I have become accustomed to doing, and has sadly become my second nature. I began to type on my computer a 'thank you' mail. Two things happened in quick succession - I couldn't string even three heartfelt sentences and when I read my impoverished mail I felt nothing!

Everything about my email felt uneasily still...no feelings stirred when I read my own lines and gratitude seemed like one more thing I could tick off on my burgeoning list of professional 'to dos'.

It took no effort at all to know what was wrong. I realized, before my computer became second nature, paper and pen had already been loyal companions for long years. Though, I sought them after ages, like old friends, they came to the rescue.

As my fingers curled over the pen, something beautiful happened. With stunning ease the words flowed, and the writer in me heaved a sigh of relief. Gratitude had finally found its transport and happily jumped on. I wrote three separate letters that evening. Each unique from the other. An opportunity lost with the faceless cut and paste.

Felt the thrill of 'real' writing after years. Not the least of which is neatly folding a letter and slipping it snug in its envelope, then flipping it over and carefully writing the address, and finally, making the effort to post it. Hoping on way back that it reaches safely. The delay of its reaching and the wait for its response has an unparalleled excitement in our world of communication.

An email is too swift to savor all the ups and downs of communication, and brings back a reply too quick to tempt anticipation.

I might be writing more letters now. And I hope I get some, too. It's been so long since I expectantly peered into my mail box to see the glimpse of a white envelope with my name on it.