In today’s instant world, we miss out on certain things.
Certain things we forget we ever had.
Things that became lost simply because they were germane to now-antiquated processes and technologies.
Take handwritten letters, for example.
A few short decades ago, if you didn’t want to pick up the phone and speak to someone “live”, you wrote a letter.
If you wanted to give a topic more in-depth thought, you wrote a letter.
If you wanted to write a lover across the globe, express difficult feelings, or simply save money on long distance phone fees, you wrote a letter.
Sure, texting and email makes things faster, cleaner, and cheaper.
But also more sterile.
Tech has unwittingly eviscerated tiny pieces of human nuance from our communication.
If you get a text or an email from me, you don’t get to see my personality come through like you would in my handwriting.
You don’t get to wonder why I crossed out that word, or notice that I handwrite in all capital letters.
The benefit of immediacy bestowed by tech also takes away some organic anticipation.
Did she get my letter? Did it get lost in the mail? When will she read it?
Earlier this week I sent my daughter in California a handwritten letter, along with some photos I printed of the time we spent together this summer while she was visiting me in Nevada.
Yesterday, I sent a handwritten letter to a successful real estate broker I met years ago when I lived in Laguna Beach, just to re-open the lines of communication, open the door for cross-referral opportunities, and see where things may lead.
You never know what great things these little gestures might just conjure up in the future.
So why don’t we throw a little more life, a little more tension, back into the mix and send more handwritten letters?
Imagine the surprise, and perhaps the small extra dose of joy a reader will have when he sees your personality come through on paper.
When he sees you took the time to do things the old school way, something that’s a little special because it was not the fastest or most “convenient” way to do it.
And you might be surprised at the intrinsic reward of writing a handwritten letter.
How it forces you to slow down, become more mindful.
And without any immediate reward, it forces you to be patient.
And it manifests a bit of that old school mystery and anticipation that is lacking nowadays.
Maybe you’ll even get butterflies in your stomach as the days go by, and you begin to wonder…did she get my letter?
P.S. If you write me a handwritten letter, I will not only write you back, but I’ll send you my power of attorney form for free (which I sell for $35). I can even deliver it to you digitally if you like. You’ll have to wait for my reply letter, but I won’t make you wait for your free gift!
Here’s my address: 871 Coronado Center Drive, Suite 200, Henderson, NV 89052