An open letter for the timelessness beauty and art of writing letters!

Isn't it a shame if you can't remember the last time you wrote or received a letter? As someone who loves writing letters, I wrote one to maybe help you find a renewed appreciation for it too.

When John Keating from Dead Poets Society said, “We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for,” I found myself resonating deeply with his words and understanding how writing is not just a mere pastime or a fleeting fancy but an intrinsic, almost primal need that connects us to the very essence of what it means to be human. However, my love affair with letters began long before I ever watched that film or even appreciated the significance of Keating’s words. In fact, it took root in my life before writing had any professional relevance or even before I could construct a coherent sentence while spelling words right.

I remember vividly the first letter I ever penned in 2007 as a first grader to invite my friends to my birthday party. It never crossed my mind that I could ask them in person during school hours and for reasons I could not articulate then, writing a letter seemed like the most natural, most fitting way to communicate something so important. However, I realized my love of penning those handwritten letters with short, heartfelt messages for my parents and friends was about sharing something personal and tangible with them.

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By 2012, I had begun writing diary entries, though its size somewhat restricted the words I used and the thoughts I shared. It wasn’t until the summer of 2016 when a dear friend gifted me a customized diary and encouraged me to write in it, that I started to fully appreciate my love for writing. Unlike before, I now had the space and freedom to explore my thoughts more expansively. Over time, the way I wrote my entries naturally took the form of letters to my future self. When I wrote, it was with the intention that one day, I would revisit these words and reflect on the person I once was, and the experiences that shaped me. I imagined my future self leafing through these pages, laughing at the naïveté of my younger self. In school, not many of my peers shared my passion for writing, and in that solitary pursuit, I found a sense of pride, a belief that I was cooler than anyone around. I prided myself on my observational skills and on the fact that I always had something to write about, something that excited me. I was utterly confident that I would never become one of those “boring” adults who seemed to lack enthusiasm for life, overthought every decision, had no sense of humor, and constantly made comparisons and complaints.

A few years later, when I was old enough to be on social media, I found myself writing less frequently. Every time I reflect on this change it fills me with a sense of sadness that is difficult to express. I rarely find the time to write letters to myself anymore, and when I do, they are often tinged with complaints and frustrations rather than the joy and wonder I once enjoyed. Recently, as I thumbed through my old diary, I was reminded of how much pleasure I took in writing those simple almost mediocre entries. They were mostly about small, seemingly insignificant events that brought me joy. It was about keeping a record of the joy of receiving letters from my friends. The ones that were carefully written on my favorite colored paper in their best handwriting were like the small gestures that made me feel special. But when I go through it now I realize how often it was taken for granted.

So why, then, do we no longer write letters? What holds us back? Perhaps it is because we perceive letter writing as an outdated practice that no longer fits within the fast-paced time we live in, or perhaps we feel that expressing ourselves in such a tangible, deliberate way is somehow cliché. Maybe we’re not accustomed to gathering our thoughts in such a focused manner, or we are self-conscious about our handwriting or ability to communicate our feelings effectively. Or maybe we simply believe that modern communication which feels more convenient made letter writing unnecessary.

But these rationalizations, are slowly turning us into those very “boring adults". Something is erasing our natural urge to write letters or compose even the most mediocre sentences leading us away from the creativity that defines us. It is imperative, now more than ever, that we rediscover our love for art and writing. Some might argue about the point of waiting weeks for communication when you can instantly send a text. And I feel like these people need it more than anyone. It often happens when we feel like nobodies in the grand scheme of things but somewhere, we are all worthy of receiving a letter. We all are worthy of the time it takes for someone to sit down, gather their thoughts, and write a letter. One that is written solely for us, carefully placed in a chosen envelope, and sent with intention, love and understanding. Unlike the fleeting, often careless nature of digital communication, a letter cannot be unsend because it demands attention, thoughtfulness, and effort. It's a reminder that we are deserving of such deliberate consideration, especially from those we love and who love us in return

It is indeed a shame that we often need to be reminded of the importance of writing letters, or the value of art in our lives. This broader conversation about the role of art when the world is in such chaos is a topic of discussion for many. It reminds me of an epigram by Bertolt Brecht from his 1938 Svendborg Poems, written while he was in exile in the Danish countryside: “In the dark times, will there also be singing? Yes, there will be singing—about the dark times.” implying that even in the bleakest of moments, the human spirit will inevitably find a way to give voice to its experiences of pain, love, and hope. And what better way to express it than a sweet little letter!

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