Emails, text messaging, Whatsapp, Facebook Messenger, Twitter, Tumblr, Viber, IMing, Skype; the modes of communication available to us in the 21st Century are vast and varied. Each seems more efficient and faster than the one before it. There was a time when everyone used Yahoo Messenger; now, Whatsapp lets you connect with people all over the world for free. You can see the faces of your loved ones on Skype without paying a cent. The wonders of technology continue to close the communication gap in all corners of the globe.
And yet, I find myself at my desk on a Saturday morning, nibbling on the end of a pen, a sheet of fresh white paper in front of me. The paper smells of hope, of promises yet unbroken, of friendship and love, of memories. It is the phantom of a once-breathing tree, and if you run your hands over a new paper, you can feel the life that once imbibed it. There’s something magical about setting the nib of a pen to paper and watching the ink weave over the page. Loops and curls of ink engrave words, words that will someday reach the hands of another person and stay with them forever.
Writing letters has a charm that technology has never, and will never, be able to manage. A letter is such a tangible sentiment; the very soul of the writer is bared on that paper for the reader to see and intimately understand. There is an intimacy to be found in receiving letters that is lacking in social media or messaging. One can curl up by the fireplace with an envelope and savor the sensation of slicing the envelope open. The letter falls out and one delicately unfolds it to reveal the words meant only for the reader to behold. And once read, the words can be held on to; they belong to the reader for him or her to revisit at leisure.
Letters are a way to stop time from ticking. You can keep a friend close even when they are far away just by tucking a letter from him or her into your pocket. You can revisit a relationship that was precious to you and absorb the emotions that are inked onto the paper. And while texting allows for rapid conversation, conversation becomes meaningless when it ceases to stop. Letters allow us to think before we write, to create a piece that will be worth the reader’s time. They make us less self-obsessed because we are catering to the reader. Texts are so simple; we can whine to our friends about everything from the line at Starbucks to the latest guys who dumped us. But when we sit down to write letters, petty conversations cease to matter. A letter is already a thing of the past when it reaches the hands of the reader. The events it details have happened, or are closer to occurring than when you wrote the letter. And because of that, only the worthwhile details are retained in a letter. Anecdotes, thoughtful messages, wishes and dreams – these are all examples of the gems that letters retain. Social media and texting are superficial. Letters have weight behind the words. Letters teach us to read between the lines.
I love the excitement of finding a letter addressed to me in the mailbox. I take the letter with me to a shaded spot under a tree in the garden, or up to my room and curl up on my bed with it. My fingers trace the cursive on the front. Knowing that someone took precious time out of their day to write to me fills me with an inexplicable peace. You feel safe when you hold a letter. You feel loved when you read it. And you are prompted to be more caring towards the people in your life when you hold this tangible proof that to someone out there, you are the world.
Emails are cold. Clinical and to the point, emails are meant for quick exchanges of information. I can never sit down at my laptop and read a long email from a friend about her adventures at college. I would prefer to read a letter detailing these same adventures. In a letter, I can re-live those moments with my friend because I can see her excitement, her frustration, her laughter in the curls of the words on the page. I can tell whether she is being ambitious or casual based on how she crosses her Ts. Letters give us insight into the emotions that our friends were feeling when they sat down and wrote to us. Nostalgia, love, warmth – these are emotions that only a pen can capture.
No matter how far ahead technology progresses, I will never stop writing letters. For now, they are letters to my friends and family. One day, I will write love letters to a man, and I will taste the thrill of newfound love in every word that I etch on the paper. Maybe I will dab some perfume on the edges of the letter before sealing the envelope. And when he opens it, he will inhale it and know that somewhere across the world, I love him.
And for you philatelists out there, think of all the stamps that you could collect if you wrote more letters and received more in exchange!