The Power Behind a Handwritten Letter

Long before I actually knew I wanted to be a writer, I developed a love for writing hand-written letters to people. For those who know me, writing is the way in which I best express myself. But that’s not the reason I write letters. Something about the act of actually sitting down and scribing out thoughts to someone just seems so genuine and heartfelt. We live in an age now where we largely communicate with each other via texting/email/Facebook. We have lost the type of personal contact that I think is so important to maintaining and deepening our relationships with loved ones. For me, writing letters is a way of slowing down and actually taking the time to express my thoughts and feelings to someone in a seemingly archaic, yet beautiful way. And from my experience, people are always shocked and extremely appreciative of such letters.

This past weekend one of my friends went on a Cursillo, or a spiritual retreat. While I have never been on a retreat myself before, I know several people who have and most of them found it to be a good and rewarding experience. Part of the retreat involves family and friends sending letters as a surprise for the person attending the retreat to read.  I was asked if I would be willing to write a letter to send to my friend on the retreat. I couldn’t have been more excited.

When I sat down to write the letter, I had a general idea of what I wanted to say and I didn’t think it would take too terribly wrong to write. But several hours later, I was still working on the letter. Apparently I had more to say than I realized. The thing about writing letters is that you don’t have to deal with the pressure or uncomfortableness of having someone right in front of you when you tell them your thoughts. You can say things you might not have the courage to say otherwise. And there is no urgency to spit everything out all at once. You have the freedom to write what you want, when you want. And of course, you have the option of revising. I tend to write letters very quickly initially, but then I go back through and revise things until I am confident it says exactly what I want in the way that I wanted to say it.

Whenever I write a letter, I always know what I want it to say…..or so I think at the beginning. But once I start writing, I often discover that I have more thoughts on the subject at hand. In writing the letter to my friend on the retreat, I wanted to focus on some of the special memories I have of him. And I wanted to thank him for being there to support me through some difficult times in my life. I had some specific things in mind that I wanted to reference, but once I started writing, my head was flooded with all of these little details and memories of him that I didn’t even know I remembered. In the process, I realized what a truly good friend he has been to me throughout the years and that I really miss spending time with him. By the time I reached the last page of the letter, I found myself apologizing to him for not being a better friend as of late and promising to make a more concerted effort at setting aside time to come visit him and catch up on all of the happenings of our lives.

I wanted my letter to him to be meaningful, particularly since he would be reading it on his retreat. But it ended up being a revelation for me, as well, on my relationship with him. Writing the letter reminded me of just how lucky I am to have him in my life. It also forced me to reexamine the type of friend I have been to him lately, which led me to realize that there are some serious changes I need to make in order to rekindle a valuable friendship in my life.

After finishing the letter and sending it off to be delivered to the retreat, I kept wondering what my friend would think when he read it….all 7 pages of it. I also kept thinking of how truly wonderful it would be to receive a big pile of letters from people sharing words of encouragement and thanks. I was glad that my letter would be among those he read.

On the day my friend’s retreat ended, I receive a text from him in the evening thanking me for my letter. I was so thankful that it had proved meaningful for him. As with most of the things I write, it is not the act of writing itself that is important to me, but rather knowing that my words have touched the lives of someone else in a profound way. That’s when I know that I’ve succeeded as a writer.

Most people I know wouldn’t write a hand-written letter unless they were forced to. But I think, given the opportunity, they would better come to see what a beautiful gift letters are---not just for the person receiving them, but for the person writing them.

As Henry David Thoreau said, (the quote that is also on the back of my business cards), “A written word is the choicest of relics. It is something at once more intimate with us and more universal than any other work of art. It is the work of art nearest to life itself. It may be translated into every language, and not only be read but actually breathed from all human lips—not be represented on canvas or in marble only, but be carved out of the breath of life itself.”