I slid on my first long sleeve shirt of the season for my morning walk. Made a pour over cup of coffee and let it sit to enjoy upon my return. Grabbed the letter laying by the front door and once my feet hit the payment, into the mailbox it went.
Brian made a comment about Hallmark cards, but I rarely use them. Writing a letter or jotting a note is an opportunity to search out artists who make them and support their craft. One artist I’ve been hooked on for a while now is David Arms. Some of his cards lean toward Christianity, but not all of them. David’s intention is to convey hope and discovered his artistic gift late in life.
This gives me hope because I’m still trying to figure out what I want to do. Since my daughter left the nest I ponder meaningful ways in which to spend this one, precious life. I’m sharing this 2 minute video in hopes you find it inspiring, because as long as there’s breath in our bodies, we still have a purpose. It surprises David to this day that he’s an artist and he describes it by saying, he didn’t know to hope for it.
To see the feature photo in all it’s glory, hover your mouse, or finger over it. It’s from David’s website here. To view notecards by David Arms, click here.
Walking to the mailbox, notecards in hand, I slid them into the box. My hand reached over to the side, and pulled the red flag up so it’s standing straight up in the air. The mail lady will lower it when she replaces my mail with hers and I’ll know the mail has run for another day.
I sat at the kitchen table watching through the window as it rains, trying to focus on work but am soothed by the sound. When it was time for a break I snapped a photo of additional items used in letter writing. I’m mildly obsessed with this black tray with gold handles, so it worked well for photo purposes under cloudy skies and low light. Writing a letter goes back to what Dawn so eloquently stated in the first post.
We learn much about another person through a written letter. The penmanship, the color of the ink, type of writing instrument, stationary and even the stamp all are clues to the individuality of the writer.
Find a piece of paper that feels good to write on, or make your own. One of my letters received was written on a piece of paper my friend turned into stationary using her artistic flair. Whatever type paper that feels good to you, choose it for your letter. Sometimes Dawn uses a fountain pen, but we’ve come to the conclusion I need more control than that offers. She uses a rubber stamp that imprints her address on the front of the envelope in a circle formation. We both write in cursive, but my choice of ink is purple, or teal. The majority of my writing papers, notecards and supplies come from a small, family owned company called Letter Seals.
We each have our own style and the fun part is finding it. Writing a letter is like having a one-sided conversation, but it feeds the heart like no other writing. For this writer it will always be worth the risk.
There’s no set schedule who to write to and when. Much like blogging, if something is on my heart to share, the letter is written. I received a call Friday night from a dear friend thanking me for the card. I didn’t know why she’d been so heavy on my heart and mind the last couple of weeks, but I dropped her a note in the mail. Little did I know she’s been recovering from Covid.
I don’t believe I’ve ever thrown a letter away. My sister and I would write to one another and I would keep her letters in a drawer of the console. As the enchantment with letter writing increased they required a space of their own. I remembered having this box that wasn’t being used for anything and saw it fitting for letters. As you can see, we’re going to need a bigger box.
In talking with Brian this week, I discovered he too loves to write letters. The name of his blog Is Writing From the Heart, which as heart writers, that’s what we do. Brian was doubting his penmanship which you can see here, but how you write isn’t the reason behind the letter. It’s in the message of what you wish to convey. It doesn’t matter how well crafted your handwriting is. You have to trust the words you send will be legible. A letter is to be written slowly, with ease and it’s not something to rush through.
Writing a letter is an opportunity to relax the mind and share from the heart. When I purchase a bigger box, it won’t need the word ‘love’ painted on it because from what I can see that’s what it will hold. Every envelope represents a sweet soul who took the time to send some love.
The coffee bar was loved by my daughter and me. We know a variety of ways to create a cup of the magical brew, so beans and gadgets deserved a dedicated space. When she moved out, I sent half of it with her. She took her favorite parts and left mine with me, so there was a lot of empty space.
Sitting in my corner, I look at the table to my right, and its contents describe me. It’s where I sit most mornings after my walk to enjoy that first cup of the day. I’ve been trying to take a picture of this item lying in place, but it’s so shiny it confuses the camera. My corner is also where I sit to read letters from friends, so that’s where the letter opener resides. I never knew I needed a letter opener until I met Dawn.
Dawn mentioned in one of her letters that she sat down with her letter opener and a nice cup of tea to read mine. “That’s the proper way,” she said. I didn’t have a letter opener, but Google could locate one for purchase. An online search revealed one made by Reed & Barton, and that seemed proper to me. The box it came in was so elegant it was difficult to leave it out of the box. Every time I’d use it, which took time to learn the proper way, I’d put it back in the box. Once I started receiving letters more frequently, the box found its home in a drawer, and the letter opener became a tool of everyday life. My daughter told me not to leave it laying by the front door. “If someone broke in, it would be like handing them the weapon,” she said.
My gratitude is overwhelming for the souls who add light to my path with letter’s written and received. The love shines as brightly as the letter opener.
There’s a sign hanging in my home that reveals my perspective has changed. It reads, “I am fairly certain given a cape and a nice tiara, I could save the world.” I no longer wish to save the world, but I do want to touch people’s lives and I’m perfectly content with one person at a time.
The day my daughter was loading up her Jeep with some of her belongings, she told me, “I want you to make this house look like your own.” Mostly, it already did, but I took her words to heart. Over the weekend, the coffee bar turned into a letter writing station because a couple of years ago, I published this blogpost and began writing letters. It’s simple, yet nothing compares to the joy it brings. This venture began with one letter to a fellow blogger and has expanded to touching hearts all over the world.
It reminds me of the pen pal relationships of the past. Strangers whose connection is based on their exchange of letters. In this case, we began to know each other through our blogs and now we do exchange letters. I am enjoying what I suppose, is a non-traditional friendship, in today’s world. We learn much about another person through a written letter. The penmanship, the color of the ink, type of writing instrument, stationary and even the stamp all are clues to the individuality of the writer.
I’d never imagined by writing a letter to Dawn we’d be corresponding through snail mail for almost a year now and I’m grateful. My supplies outgrew their basket, hence the letter writing station. With everything out in view, I’m more apt to pause and ponder who needs some love. Then lean in to write a letter.
I schedule a haircut every 4 to 5 weeks, depending how quickly it grows. Looking online at my hairdressers availability she had several openings, but Tuesday at 10:00am felt right. I checked my schedule to see if that would work, but didn’t make the appointment immediately because the weather forecast was calling for a rainy weekend all the way through Tuesday.
My daughter has left the nest, but I still have her two dogs and they’re afraid of storms, so I was hesitant to leave the house for a haircut if that was the case. I decided to take a shower and start my day, but as I stepped out of the shower the thought, ‘Tuesday at 10’, came to mind. I decided to check and see if the haircut appointment was still available considering that’s the only ‘Tuesday at 10’ I’d thought about.
It’s difficult to have faith in meteorologists and I don’t coordinate my life around the forecast. Sometimes it’s best to take a look at the sky. It will tell you it’s story and always has one to tell. Storms are a stress factor for me. I don’t like thunder, lightning, high winds or torrential rains. My neighbor, Hercules sits on his front porch and enjoys watching the storm, while Barb is over here praying for God to calm it.
Texas has some mighty storms and I wasn’t excited over the possibility of more. I believe God knows my heart and knows how much I can handle. With all the changes that have occurred already this year, I was on edge toward anymore disruptions. I kept thanking Him for His plan which has a tendency to trump the forecast. I’ve seen it so many times before where no storm came even though it was in the forecast.
I scheduled the haircut appointment by faith. The salon is closed on Sunday and Monday, so I wouldn’t have adequate time to cancel the appointment if needed. On Monday it continued to rain, but it was gentle and I slept peacefully through Monday night. Tuesday morning I awoke to stillness and realized I’d be able to make my appointment because there was no storm. My hope for you is to put more faith in a greater plan. No matter what the world is predicting, faith overcomes fear and can weather any storm.
I’m not sure what the next chapter of my life holds, but I’m excited to watch it unfold. There’s not a great deal of certainty in this world, but that’s part of the intrigue.
Recently, I noticed taking my laptop over to the kitchen table to write so I’d have a view through the window. Mind you, my desk is sitting 10 feet away, but it’s facing the den which is pretty, but a dead-end view. It’s soothing to hear the thump of the laptop onto the table, knowing writing would come next. I’m a big believer in the quote by Burton Rascoe, “A writer is working when she’s staring out the window.” I’ve written quite a bit about our view while writing and it’s imperative to me for the words to flow.
Once done writing, I’d take the laptop back over to my desk, and plug it in to begin working. It almost became a sort of ritual, like writing time is over, and now back to the real world. To put a stop to this back and forth was to simply turn my desk around, so it’s facing that window, and that’s what I did. I’ve been pondering the simplicity of it and know that what I did with my desk can be used in many areas of life. If we want a better option, there’s possibility in there waiting for a helping hand to turn it around.