Serendipitous Deliveries

Some time has passed since I've written a letter or in the The Letter Jar blog. First work took me away,  then I was so sick I could barely lift myself out of bed, let alone lift a pen to paper.

The two week hiatus wasn't that long, but still long enough that the prospect of returning to my correspondence was starting to feel foreign.

Was.

A couple well-timed and thoughtful responses to letters I sent, and my love of the handwritten note has been reignited. Reading each reply was a double blessing, as I learned how my letter affected the recipient and also savored for myself the act of holding someone's thoughts and sentiments in my hand, feeling connected across miles and years.

Today I received a letter from M, an editor of mine at my first newspaper reporting job. In my letter I had thanked her for being a tough boss:

I'm not going to lie to you, M -- when you first came to the paper, I resented you. A lot. You pushed me out of my (oh-so-comfortable) comfort zone and demanded more from me ... I may not have liked it at first, but damn if it didn't make me a better reporter ... That I'm no longer in newspaper doesn't diminish the lessons. No matter what career one is in -- news reporting or toilet scrubbing -- one can, if she is being honest, say whether she has given all, the best, 100 percent. Thanks for helping to instill that idea early and often.

M wrote back that she was "floored" to get a "real letter:"

I've delayed writing back because I've been thinking: How many years has it been since I've received a "real letter?" I'm pretty sure it's at least 10 ... What will happen to history with the loss of writing on paper? We can see how Lincoln edited his speeches, how Hemingway wrote his novels -- but we can't see the deletes and editing in an e-mail, assuming the e-mails even survive.

A few days ago I received a letter from J, a county attorney who, serving as he did as a source for many of my stories at that first reporting job, was someone else I needed to thank:

It was clear you always expected me to do my homework before talking to you ... I would think I'd done everything I could to shore up answers and fill in background, but quite frequently you could point out where I should have been looking for something or could have found my answer. I became better at my job as a result of being challenged by sources like you.

J wrote that he was "pleasantly surprised" to receive my letter.

I am touched to have been in your letter jar. Thanks for your thanks -- and an accurate reading of my expectations.

M's and J's letters came at exactly the right time -- just when I and The Letter Jar project needed some reinforcement. I so delighted in finding personal letters in the mail, so enjoyed the anticipation I felt in wondering what the senders had enclosed inside. Seeing their handwriting and reading their words, I got such a boost -- one I am once again committed to giving others.

ACCIDENTALLY ANTISOCIAL: Thanks to all my new Twitter followers and Facebook fans and please accept my apologies for my lack of acknowledgment to date. I appreciate your interest in The Letter Jar, and I hope you'll see that my recent inactivity is uncharacteristic; I love to write letters -- that's why I started The Letter Jar project -- and I love talking about it here. And I look forward to hearing what you think too.

I Ain't Seen Nothing Yet

"The best is yet to come."

My former coworker L, to whom I wrote yesterday, said those words to me practically the very first time I met him. Given L's generally wisecracking personality -- which also became obvious during our first meeting -- I figured he was just being sarcastic.

Turns out he wasn't. L, corporate counsel at the insurance company where we worked, truly believed that no matter how good things are, they can always get better.

What an incredibly optimistic worldview, and--as I told L in my letter--damn if he isn't right. I told him how, over the past several years, I've been blessed with a loving husband and beautiful stepson and son, along with the love of friends and good health, and the simple blessings of a roof over my head, well-compensated work and reliable transportation.

This all is most certainly joy and happiness and security enough, and yet--it does seem to get better and better. Playtime with my children reinforces the wonder and joy in simple things. Challenges at work sharpen my sense of perspective. Even the return of a close family member's illness poses an opportunity to increase my faith and my patience.

And through this letter-writing project -- I just wrote my 183rd letter, meaning I have now written more than I have left to write, in order to reach my goal -- I've reignited old relationships, found opportunities to expand the reach of my writing and been reminded of the wisdom of my friends.

The best is yet to come? I can hardly wait to see what's next.

BREATHTAKING: Writing this post I thought of Pink's "Glitter in the Air" and its concluding line: "Have you ever held your breath and asked yourself will it ever get better than tonight?" She might have been asking herself that question after her absolutely gorgeous and utterly unforgettable performance of the song at the 2010 Grammy Awards.

Sharpened Focus

This morning I wrote a letter to J, whom I met in college through our campus ministry. In the first part of the letter I thanked her for her friendship: She is someone, I told her, on whom I could always rely to tell me the truth, have my best interests at heart and generally see things in the most positive light--characteristics valuable in any relationship but particularly apropos a couple years ago as I sought her firsthand advice and support as I struggled with issues of infertility. I also remarked that she is such a good role model for her daughter, something I know because she has also served as a good role model for me and others:

You are one of the first people I ever met who so fully embodied the idea of public service and brotherhood ... I have met few people who have your level of commitment to their fellow men and women and to the Earth. Even though it's been years since we've seen each other face to face, let alone day to day, I am still inspired by you to make wiser decisions about my use of resources and my impact on fellow humans. Thank you for serving that role in my life, as an example of less consuming and more giving.

At that point in the letter I then found myself giving my friend what turned out to be the most articulate assessment I've expressed so far of what this project has meant to me. First I told her, as I have others, that writing these letters has underscored the importance of recognizing the people in your life at any given moment and how they're shaping you as they share part of your life journey. But the words that rolled off my pen next persuade me that I have reached a new level of understanding of what that "recognizing people" really means:

It has been so interesting and enlightening to write to friends and family--people I've known practically since birth (I guess that would be my mom!) and those I've known a much shorter period of time, but who still have had an impact--and realize through reflection and exposition the lessons those relationships have taught me. I'm realizing how many people I have to thank for what I know and believe about hard work, fairness, appreciation and gratitude, expectations and, yes, love of fellow man, altruism and social and environmental responsibility.

Sitting there in my recliner this morning, writing the letter to J with my son sleeping in my arms, those words unexpectedly brought the significance of this project into sharp, clear focus--interestingly, at a time when my energy had started to flag somewhat. (Fulfilling a commitment to handwrite 365 letters in 365 days while working full time and raising an infant can be a little much, I've found, and being plagued with a nasty cold--as I was the last couple weeks--can make you question that promise, along with your sanity.)

Suddenly I am infused again with the same excitement I felt as I drew that very first name from THE LETTER JAR--I look forward to the realizations, recollections and recognitions that lie within my next 288 letters. And just as I know my drive will wane again, I am confident it will resurge too--and I look forward to experiencing how that happens.

UNEXPECTED BENEFIT: This project, perhaps not surprisingly, is improving my handwriting! Not that I've ever had what I (or the most likely critics, my teachers and employers) would consider terrible penmanship, but I've noticed that even the non-letterwriting activity for which I typically give little care to my script--meeting notes at work, grocery lists, forms completed for the DMV--is starting to take on a more legible, pleasing look. Only 253 days until next National Handwriting Day on Jan. 23--I've got a head start!