I’ve mentioned the Modern Letter Project a few times here in the past. It’s an interesting project that’s occupied bits of my time over the past five or six months, and the basic idea is to get back to writing good old-fashioned letters (as opposed to typically thoughtless and artless modern modes of written communication – like, say, email and text messaging).
Part of the MLP’s stated goal is to help “each participant in the project will have a network of new pen pals, friends, and a collection of letters to treasure.” As someone who has found a strange sense of satisfaction in putting pen to paper – whether in journals, random scraps or actual letters – I submitted to be part of the project almost as soon as I heard about it. I have been fortunate to come into written contact with some fascinating folks over the past several months. Sure, some people haven’t written back (or written letters at all, I assume), but a small handful have become regular correspondents of mine since the letter-writing commenced. I feel compelled to offer an ounce or two of gratitude to the members of this intriguing group (I’d mention them by name, but I’m not sure they’d appreciate that).
I guess I’m mentioning the Modern Letter Project for a couple reasons. One, someone just asked me last night how to join the project, so I thought I might post something on it, to make the link more prominent. Who knows – maybe there were other people out there who meant to join, but have forgotten in the bustle of everyday life. I know in my life there seem to be a thousand things coming at me at any given point in time, almost like countless snowflakes that seem to hurtle at you when driving through a blizzard. It probably doesn’t help that many of the mechanisms making life more complex are placed there by my own choice. Which brings me to my second reason for mentioning the MLP: the process of writing a personal letter reminds me of a level of simplicity I sorely miss.
I can still recall a time when there was no cell phone, no computer or email; a time I didn’t feel compelled to check for new information every few minutes, or even every few hours. There are times I catch myself in the midst of sending an email, text or instant message – or even Twittering – and I wonder if I’ve lost something by surrendering to this strange, modern, new world. In the middle of all of it, I sometimes wonder if I’d be happier in a time of more effort and patience, a time of less convenience.
I remember sending letters to far-away people. I recall waiting for responses, wondering what they’d have to report. I even recall sending letters of great importance (to me, at least). On more than one occasion, I’ve professed my undying love in a letter. It worked once; not as well the other time.
I have letters from years ago from one particular friend who inspired and encouraged me during a rough stretch in my life. I remember thinking someday I might write something capable of doing for someone else what my friend’s words did for me. All because of a few letters.
There is something about the arcane collaboration of a pen, paper and the uncertainty of the post office. And it’s been nice to rediscover even a glimpse of that experience. If you’d like to learn more about it, or join the project, click here.
