Winter is back! After a brief sojourn in rain and slush and muck, our land is blanketed in white once again. The temperature has sunk to -10°C (14°F) with a wind that will rip your face off. The good news - the sun is shining! Still, it's going to be an indoor day for me.
I will surround myself with warmth - fleece, blankies, and tea - while I have a poke around my inbox. Would that it were an actual box, with real letters in it, handwritten missives telling of concerns, questions, well wishes, and interesting tidbits of life; something like the red box of government papers sent to the Queen daily.
I don't want to sit in front of a computer screen tapping out individual elements of the English alphabet to make words, sentences, paragraphs. I want to sit at my writing desk today, pen in hand, fine paper before me and do that old-fashioned thing. I want to form flowing cursive script on cream coloured pages with torn edges.
I don't want to use emoticons, however yellow, cute, funny, clever or animated, to convey some kind of emotional state. The honest moments and movements of my heart need words, real words born of thought-FULL-ness; words that don't always come easily, that often struggle to be a handhold, a hug, a substitute for eye to eye, heart to heart communication.
If I find that writing takes too much time, there is a Plan B. Another old-fashioned instrument lies within arms reach, the one invented by Alexander Graham Bell (and Yes, I do still have a landline!). To speak and talk in real time, with a real person - what a concept! It is so much more satisfying and effective than a ping and flash of words across a smartphone screen. And there is far less chance of miscues and mix-ups occasioned by the plethora of abbreviations.
This is not a rant against tech. I use it - no kidding, eh? I appreciate its speed, efficiency, and encyclopedic (though not always accurate!) data. And yes, at some point, I will end up keyboarding some of my cursive paragraphs. The information superhighway is unlikely to get buried by an avalanche of paper anytime soon.
BUT I don't want to sacrifice the irreplaceable skill of written, hand-written, words on paper and that two way street of listening and speaking that is person to person conversation, especially in matters of the heart, in those relationships that matter most.
The kettle is boiling, my pens are fueled up with ink. WRITE!
©2019 April Hoeller
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