This year, I have probably read more words than I have in any previous year. Most of these have been through a screen – digital comics, social media, online news, and all too rarely, my own words for this blog. And yet, the words that I found had the most consistent emotional impact on me were the brief messages scrawled lovingly on cards and notes. There’s just something special about some surprise sentences from a dear friend that short-circuits my emotional defenses and lets them reach right into my heart.
It’s always nice to find an unexpected message from someone you care about, wherever it may present itself. Even a short ‘Hey, how are you?’ on a messaging service after a long period of life-induced silence can lead to a welcome catch-up and sharing of stories.
And yet, I still find myself at a greater emotional distance with digital messages than I do from a postcard sent on a whim, or even a birthday card. I can’t pinpoint one clear reason why I find myself disarmed by written messages, treasuring them more than all but the most heartfelt interactions on social media.
It’s partly because they are so one-sided – with digital communication, there is most often a tacit expectation of a response, and most of the time a rapid one. Written notes and cards have no such expectation. You take the time to write them, knowing that their recipient might not reply. You write them just to make them happy, and that purity of purpose fascinates me.
After reading so many words through screens, there is also something special about holding a piece of paper and seeing them pressed directly into the surface. Whether the person’s handwriting is godawful like mine (be thankful that this blog is not written by hand, because there would only be a handful of you able to read the chicken scratch that comes when I am writing a creative piece in a fit of inspiration), carefully pristine, or somewhere in between, I can so vividly picture the character behind each piece. This is much harder when their words are uniformly dulled by typeface.
Finally, handwritten communication is just simply rarer. We all gorge on swathes of digital verbiage, and receiving something written for you only happens a few times per year. This has lead us Kris and I to make happiness totems of the few that we have, tactically placing them on surfaces where we can catch a glimpse of them when we least expect it, hearken back to the moment we first read them, and smile at the memory.
All of this is not to lessen the importance of keeping in touch digitally. It is certainly an easier and more instant form of communication, and is much more convenient for keeping up with everyone in your life. However, while handwritten letters and cards may not be a universally useful tool, they are impactful and meaningful expressions of your feelings for those that you deem worthy of them, and Kris and I both treasure each one that we have been lucky enough to receive.
