I live happily in my own head, content and entertained by my own ponderings and observations. This outward look/inward analysis serves the writer in me well.
I'm a bit isolated during the time it takes to transfer words from head to paper. The process requires uninterrupted time while the download takes place.
Usually I listen to the words in my head and type them-- an easy flow from mind to lap top. Who needs a pen and paper these days? I ignore a multitude of distractions around me to the point that my husband will complain, "You don't remember a thing I tell you."
Huh? Has he spoken?
It's not that I've forgotten, exactly; it's more like I never heard him in the first place. I could well have looked him in the eye while he told me he had a meeting at six o'clock, but my look would have been the vacant stare of a sleepwalker. I may even have nodded and given an affirmative mmm, hmmm, but I didn't absorb a thing. The thread of my own thought was still running in my head, blocking anything else from penetrating. And it must be that way, or I'd lose everything I need to say.
Need is a strong word, but it feels like a need. I write, and in the process clarify something for myself. And the best of circumstances what I need to say resonates with a reader who lets me know.
Today I got a hand-lettered envelope, rare in this day of email and junk mail. The note, a thank-you, read:
Dear Ms. Douillette:
A dear friend, 87 yrs. young, ten years older than I, always gives me her old CSMs and I am reading the September 23 issue today. Your article Citrus-Scented Love has great meaning for me. Thank you for writing it.
The way the brain remembers fragrances and associations connected to them is a beautiful mystery of life.
Warmly,
Helen
She included her email address, but I'll send her a real note like she sent me-- the old-fashioned pen and ink kind. I'll tell her how much it means to know that she felt what I needed to say. And I'll pay it forward when another writer's words resonate with me.
Comments
I started painting my watercolor note cards because I love the feel of ink on paper...thus I love writing notes on my cards.
I love email..... but when I open the mailbox and a card with handwriting is on the envelope, the other mail gets tossed on the table to look at later...
Thanks for a wonderful reminder that some things from the past are still loved and appreciated.
Love and Hugs
Wanda
Peace - D
Your article brought tears to my eyes as a similar situation happened between my parents. It was Chanel #5 in their case and mom sprayed it around the room not knowing what it really was until father cautioned her about wasting it. She vowed she wouldn't touch it for another two years LOL. I too watched it slowly go down. To this day that perfume reminds me of their love for one another. Thanks for the lovely reminiscing.
Still, nothing beats a handwritten note or letter as it shows how much thought the sender put into the act of actually sitting down and writing to someone. It is most definitely a lost art - just like regular letters are as more and more people turn to email. I used to love to check the mail when I was younger, now - not so much as it's generally just fliers and bills. Sigh ...
Please stop by. I have given you a "NO obligation" award on my blog ~~ I just know my readers would so enjoy your posts. I'm sure some will come by from the link.
I have perfume sitting in my bathroom cupboard that I haven't used for ages, but maybe this Saturday I'll dab a bit behind my ears. Come on over to see why! ;D
How much of life do you suppose we miss, trying so hard to record the part of it we did notice? Laughing here in Costa Rica.
But see, it reaches out and touches someone you don't even know... and that letter is proof of it.
It's hell to live with a writer.
"And the best of circumstances what I need to say resonates with a reader who lets me know." I just loved that line. Reading your words, I can well see why somebody would need to write and tell you :)