March 31, 2017 (day 31)
Wow. How is it the last day of March? And for people in my neighborhood, what happened to “out like a lamb?” I know. I know. No FB complaining. Especially about the weather. I did my winter to spring marathon training last year and I KNOW how the last push is what I make of it. And I have four gorgeous bunches of fresh flowers that were delivered to my generally gray without sunlight apartment this week. People are generous and lovely and amazing. And I cried when I dropped food on the floor tonight at dinner. Without my little vacuum.
Back to the good thoughts about people. I picked up the mail tonight and there was a notecard with my name and these squiggly postmark lines that have been appearing on more than envelopes in the mail lately. Inside a kind note from someone giving thanks. Someone I had just spoken with about this very topic in recognizing people…saying hi thinking of you noticed this paying attention telling about it.
I don’t know about you, but I am endeared by someone’s handwriting. It is intimate, personal, a trademark. I still have letters from my grandmother whose cursive is like no one else’s. And seeing certain penmanship can transport me to a time in my life or the comfort of a friendship that has magical connection. History. In a way it is like someone’s voice, only they are silently speaking in putting pen to paper.
Someone reminded me today that I am “old school” which I know and also know I’m not the only one out here. One of my favorite books is “The Delicacy and Strength of Lace” which is a published collection of letters between a Pulitzer Prize winning poet, James Wright and a young author Leslie Marmon Silko who met at a conference and formed a friendship through letters before this keyboard of the internet made communication through airwaves so readily available with shining screens in the background. Wright’s wife published them after his death in his honor and also in honor of the commitment and connection between two random souls sending a message in a bottle. Mailing things feels that way these days, doesn’t it?
I also love the feel of the paper. The envelope. Some big, some small, different colors, stamped (gorgeous artwork in themselves those stamps are) , and a return address sometimes on the front, sometimes on the rear, sometimes none at all. I am NOT one of those none at all people. Too much of a control freak.
When is the last time you sent a note just because? When is the last time you received one? I vote for a collective hymn to life send some good juju mail this weekend. Think about the gem it will be amidst the bills, the ads, the credit card offers. And while I have no prize giveaway to entice you, I guarantee you this: it takes FAR LESS TIME than we tell ourselves it will. And whoever you write, they will have a better day for your saying : Hi. Thinking of you. Noticed this. Paying attention. Telling about it.
How about a little love flash mob? A wave of goodness. By Monday. I triple dog dare you.