In the mailbox, hidden in between papers, unpersonal envelopes and advertisements, was a letter from a dear friend in The Netherlands. Annet don't have an e-mail address, nor do I have her cellphone number to stay in instant contact through sms. We both love to write the oldfashioned real letters on beautiful stationary. We have been penpals for 12 years.
In the envelope I found a belated birthday card with sweet, friendly words. And while reading it, it occured to me that I hadn't been in contact with Annet for several months. I had totally forgotten her birthday back in March. I sat down at once to write a long letter.
The world has become small during the last couple of decades. I travel, I am in daily contact with friends worldwide through e-mails and blogging, I send sms, I use the phone. And I feel blessed with such a wonderful circle of friends. But in the middle of all this I am losing something. E-mails are often short notes, blogging can never be very personal, sms on the cell phone are just a few words written in a haste. What have become of those long, personal letters I used to write, where deep friendships developed over the years and over the borders?
I used to write long letters, and I used to do it regularly. It gave me so much joy, so much fulfilment. And it was a highlight of the day when the postman came with his deliveries. Now I can open my e-mailbox in a minute, and there are always mail there; I respond to some, I delete some.
Right in the middle of my whirlwind life, my philosophy is to live The Slow Life (yes, I am member of the Slow Food organization). Why is it then so difficult to slow down the carousel? I have to start somewhere, and today I start with writing a letter. I blow a layer of dust of my green marbelled stationary box, find some beautiful, handmade paper and write a long, personal letter to a friend, or actually I write two - one to Holland, another to a dear friend in France.
