December 2024

I love you!

Happy December! This is the month of giving and receiving, of communicating with loved ones near and far. In the last month of the year 2024, I’m focusing on all the ways we can send loving-kindness in the mail. Whether we write notes, greeting cards, postcards or letters, however we choose to express ourselves, when we send the gift of kind words on paper, we will enrich our mutual bond of affection.

Last month I released the video “A Meditative Walk Through Nature.” I’m glad so many of you found it soothing and peaceful. We were blessed with a mild fall in New England, providing ample time for us to embrace the light and the spectacular colors of the landscape where we live.

I’m writing this letter to you before Thanksgiving in order for Elissa to have a relaxed Thanksgiving break, and for me to spend time with my family. Before the frenetic pace of the December holidays, I hope we’ll all take a deep mindful breath. Pause; reflect. Get in touch with your feelings. Light a fragrant candle. Sip a cup of herbal tea or coffee. Feel the comfort of grace. Ponder the deepest meanings of the love you share with the eternal souls with whom you are forever intertwined. Set the stage to write to someone whose pure heart touched your soul.

Express your gratitude by writing some thank-you notes. Right now, with Thanksgiving behind you, before the (three converging) holiday celebrations, thank those loved ones who have given you gifts from their heart. Their gifts come in all shapes and sizes and vary as much as a fingerprint. None of us ever knows how our caring affects those we love.

My good friend Anu believes that thank-you notes are vitally important to show our appreciation to a friend, a loved one or a relative. She sent me a Dear Abby column titled “A brief thank-you note has an outsized impact.” In the column, Tamara in California wrote to Abby that “entitlement has gotten way out of hand. Handwritten thank-you notes are NOT old-fashioned. They lift the giver’s heart. Thank you.” Tamara wrote pleading for Abby to remind readers of this loving ritual.

Abby’s reply from Jeanne Phillipps read, “The subject of thank-you notes is one of the most common complaints I receive from readers…. For some reason, they mistakenly believe a thank-you must be long and flowery when, in fact, short and to the point is more effective.”

Whether you received a check or presents you wanted for your birthday, or someone dropped by flowers, cookies or soup, a few words of thankful appreciation will mean so much to the giver. By spending some quiet, meditative time to mindfully write your thoughts, you’ll feel the reward for your effort.

Words will come easily when you freely express what’s in your heart. By setting aside a few minutes of quiet time (in the morning or evening, depending on your circumstances), treat yourself to the delicious satisfaction of thinking on paper to a friend with a heart full of gratitude. Experience the pleasure as you fold your message into an envelope. Make a habit of this ritual. Remember, we are what we do every day. As the saying goes: “Whatever you are, be a good one.” This kindness in action is powerful because it is so genuine. How many times do we think of a friend when we see a rainbow or lick a favorite flavor of ice cream or watch an awesome sunset and want that person to know they’re in our thoughts? With pen on paper, lift someone up in grateful feelings and thoughts. This mini ritual of daily gratitude is both comforting and beautiful.

A letter is a whole. A whole has a beginning, middle and end, Aristotle taught us. Begin with the name of your friend, say whatever you wish to express, and end with your name. Full circle. Complete. Whole. You’ll immediately feel grateful that you acted on your good intentions. How fortunate we are to have people we trust and care about who share our journey.

I’ve been writing letters by hand ever since I was five. My love of writing letters never lessened when I became a published author. Now I receive letters from people all over the globe who have read my published work. Many of my readers I know solely through our communications, by the giving and receiving of letters. The thrill of receiving a letter from someone who feels the warmth of friendship only through the written word is so special. Whether these letters are handwritten or typed, they fill me with the same joy.

Now that I am no longer publishing books, I write for my own pleasure. My life is curving around to create a full circle. A good deal of my writing is now correspondence. In 1990, Doubleday published my book Gift of a Letter. In it, I wrote, “One of the most intimate and touching of human expressions: the letter. A letter is a gift. It can turn a private moment into an exalted experience.” When we receive letters, we can reread these treasures whenever the spirit moves us, awakening happy memories.

One of my favorite books is Rainer Maria Rilke’s Letters to a Young Poet. A young, unknown poet wrote Rilke a letter and enclosed some of his work, seeking advice on whether his verses were good.

In Rilke’s first of 10 powerful letters, he answered: “I beg you to give up all that. You are looking outward and that above all you should not do now. Nobody can counsel and help you, nobody. There is only one single way. Go into yourself. Search for the reason that bids you to write; find out whether it is spreading out its roots in the deepest places in your heart, acknowledge to yourself whether you would die if it were denied you to write. This above all — ask yourself in the stillest hours of your night: must I write? Delve into yourself for a deep answer.”

This book of letters, over time, has sustained my commitment to continuing to write as my chosen form of self-expression. “The great art of writing is the art of making people real to themselves with words,” wrote Logan Pearsall Smith in his wise volume Afterthoughts, published in 1931. “What I like in a good author,” he wrote, “is not what he says, but what he whispers.” He believed that “there are two things to aim at in life: first, to get what you want; and after that, to enjoy it. Only the wisest of mankind achieves the second.”

I love the process of putting pen and ink on paper. When you and I write a letter to someone we deeply care about, we’re able to say things we wouldn’t normally say in a conversation. Each letter is written to a specific, unique person, unlike any other person who has ever lived. When writers write articles and books, we write to our readers, whoever they are and whatever their philosophy, religion, political persuasion and sexual orientation. We’re writing to him or her or them, but when I write a letter to you, I am writing to you individually.

I have documented my passions over all these years: I am wildly, crazily, madly obsessed with fountain pens! The weight, the nib, the color, the way my hand makes each pen flow in harmony on the paper because of the specific way I hold it as it moves. I guard my fountain pens to ensure no one can innocently pick one up to jot something down. I’ve learned this the hard way, because the slightest wrong move can damage the nib, causing the ink not to flow. I rely on the ink to glide effortlessly on smooth paper. When I put pen to paper and the elements are all in good working order, writing a letter can be a most pleasant, sensual experience. 

Because I write everything but checks with a fountain pen, the process becomes a mindful form of meditation. I think best with a pen in my hand. Edmond Wilson, the 20^th century American literary critic, expressed the same feeling: “I think with my right hand.”

Socrates argued that speech is preferable to writing; he thought writing made us lazy. I believe live discussions are the most engaging and informative, but writing by hand, when lively conversations or discourse aren’t available, is a delightful alternative. Letters expand our connections to people we wouldn’t know otherwise.

A legible, handwritten letter (preferably in cursive) takes time to write; it takes effort. But even if you type a letter, print it and put it in the mail, it has the same uplifting effect for the recipient. When we are willing to open up, to mingle, two souls on paper, we are creating a beautiful, timeless gift. Letters are the most private, intimate, thoughtful way to extend my admiration and affection. Whenever there is someone we want to reach out to, when we mail a personal letter, we are bringing joy to the person who receives it in the mailbox.

When we write by hand, we are revealing our individual signature. My good friend Kerri is an accomplished calligrapher. We’re often together writing letters to friends, and I am a witness to the art and beauty of her fine penmanship. When we enjoy the art, skill and style of beautiful handwriting, writing can become an acutely soulful pleasure. Writing by hand also has a purpose and significant benefits. It's an important tool in learning. As the first century Roman rhetorician Quintilian observed, “A quick and legible hand is no mean accomplishment.”

I have an ink bottle or inkwell to dip my pen in whenever I pause to ponder how to express a thought or check a dictionary for spelling or definitions, causing the ink to dry out the nib. I light a candle and have my mindfulness bell to ring when I feel the need to focus my undivided attention to what feelings I want to express and what news I want to convey. The 17^th century French philosopher Blaise Pascal knew how much effort goes into making prose writing succinct like poetry. “I have only made this letter rather long because I have not had time to make it shorter,” he wrote.

Anu, who bought a fountain pen for her latest birthday, also sent me a great article in another letter. The article was titled “Love and Friendship in the Post.” The writer, Marlena Figge, wrote, “Letter writing shows how we care for one another. Letter writing is an antidote to the decline in modern communication.”

“The art of writing encourages a certain confidentiality,” wrote Figge. “It requires the development and expression of thoughts that often seem unnatural in conversation … the ability to write a letter requires dedication and intentionality.”

Figge described the letters John Keats wrote as “being some of the most beautiful written in the English language.” In a letter to Fanny Brawne in 1819, Keats wrote, “You must write to me as I will every week for your letters keep me alive. My sweet girl, I cannot speak my love for you.” In another letter, he wrote, “I am convinced more and more every day that fine writing is, next to fine doing, the top thing in the world.”

Recently I wrote a fan letter to a congressman I’ve looked up to for many years. He inspires hope and is a real hero. His integrity, knowledge and devotion to our Constitution is inspiring. I can’t remember the last time I wrote a fan letter. I felt giddy-happy as the words flowed directly from my heart to pen to paper.

As I made abundantly clear in Gift of a Letter, whenever we put pen to paper with the intention of expressing admiration, it’s a true gift we give ourselves.

When we act on our urge to write a letter to another person for no other reason than to sing their praises, our genuine words of gratitude will be heartfelt by the recipient. Our kind gesture is not meant to develop into correspondence. A fan letter is a complete experience. There’s grace in our pure intentions.

When you choose to write a fan letter, chances are the person you are writing has lots of fans who also write enthusiastic fan letters! Be sure you’re pure at heart. The sheer beauty of your letter shouldn’t have any clouds to block the brilliance of the light. If you expect to receive an answer, you could be setting yourself up for disappointment. A fan letter is different from a thank-you letter when you acknowledge a gift you received. (My mother called those “bread and butter” letters.)

The whole idea of writing a fan letter is to humbly, sincerely express the ways someone has moved you by their excellence. Whether you write an actor, playwright, composer, singer, dancer, artist, poet or politician, you will be expressing how you were touched by their work.

When I wrote the fan letter to my congressman, I wanted to go the extra mile to let him know how much his service matters to our country. The pleasure of expressing my appreciation lit up my heart with love and light. There’s joy in the process of sending our ship out to sail. I walked down to the post office and handed the letter to Chris, our postmaster. He said, “I’ll take good care of this, Alexandra.”

I loved our personal exchange. Chris smiled when he noticed my stamp selection. I’d bought a bunch of stamps from him of the Lincoln Memorial depicting some of the 3,020 pink flowering cherry trees that the Japanese gave to the nation’s capital in 1912. The United States Postal Service commemorated the centennial of President Taft arranging to send 50 flowering dogwood trees to Japan three years later.  

The cherry and dogwood tree exchange continues each spring as a symbol of the bond between the United States and Japan.

Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s relationship began when Robert wrote Elizabeth a fan letter, telling her he admired her poems; a year and a half later, these two genius poets married! The gift of a letter!

Elizabeth encouraged writers to not be self-critical. “Let us be content, in work, to do the thing we can, and not pressure to fret because it’s little.” We never know how far-reaching our efforts extend. Another beloved poet, Emily Dickinson, also a prodigious letter writer, reminds us that little things add up: “If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain,” she wrote. Some of the most enjoyable reading experiences are letters.

As much as I enjoy reading other people’s letters and correspondence, I treasure the beautiful letters I receive more. They are intimate, personal and uplifting, making a soul-to-soul connection. Often my friends send me clippings and quotes, recommendations for books to read and passages from poets and thinkers they want to share with me.

John Bowen Coburn, whom I met as a teenager because he and my aunt Betty were good friends, became my minister at St. James’ Church in Manhattan. After he left New York City to be the Episcopalian bishop of Massachusetts, he became my spiritual adviser. Other than a handful of visits, we corresponded by letters. In one of his letters, he quoted the Irish writer William Butler Yeats: “If we understand our own minds, and the things that are striving to utter themselves through our minds, we move others, not because we have understood or thought about those others, but because all life has that same root.”

One of my favorite writers, who wrote marvelous letters, is E.B. White. He wrote, “No one can write decently who is distrustful of the reader’s intelligence, or whose attitude is patronizing.”

Let the ink flow! Many of you know of the ancient former slave Epictetus, who became an educator and well-beloved Stoic philosopher, teaching an ethical doctrine of limiting our desires. He believed education gives us freedom. In his famous Discourses, he wrote, “If you wish to be a writer, write.” Peter often said, “Writers write.” We are all writers. As writers, we know and understand what the British novelist Anthony Trollope believed: “There is no way of writing well and also of writing easily.” 

Brenda Ueland’s book If You Want to Write is about art, independence and spirit. Ueland taught that writers need lots of unpressured time to think, imagine and mull things over in their heart and mind. Writing, as in any art, is a daily practice and commitment. For those of us who see the timeless beauty of letter writing, we are not alone. Ueland wrote, “It is only by expressing all that is inside that purer and purer streams come…. Since you are like no other being ever created since the beginning of time, you are incomparable.”

Colette, the beloved 20^th century novelist, knew from experience: “Writing leads only to writing.”

Studies have shown that in this age of distractions, we have not only greatly decreased our attention spans and communication skills, but our vocabulary has also declined. Mark Twain bluntly instructed us that the difference between the almost right word and the right word “is the difference between the lightning bug and the lightning.” Writing requires focus and takes time and discipline. The writer Roger Rosenblatt recently wrote an opinion column emphasizing putting pen to paper. He wrote, “Good writing requires four things: precision of language, the freedom to say anything, respect and — perhaps most important — love.” It’s thrilling when all your hard work and commitment bear fruit. To Aristotle, happiness is being “at work.” He referred to man the maker. “Life is a form of activity…. The pleasure of these activities perfects the activity, and therefore perfects life.”

I’m fascinated that often when a reader discovers an author that makes them feel the words speak to them in a deeply personal way, they are inspired to write a letter, feeling comfortable because they relate to the written voice. Emerson expressed that “happy is he who … writes from the love of imparting certain thoughts.” He wrote, “To-day I am full of thoughts, and can write what I please. I see no reason why I should not have the same thought, the same power of expression, to-morrow. What I write, whilst I write it, seems the most natural thing in the world….”

To me, every single note, card, postcard and letter I receive is a grace note. There is an interconnection. Because you know how much I love writing and receiving letters, I receive an abundance of kind, loving communications in the mail. Because I can’t continue to correspond with everyone or always answer in a timely manner, often I write after time has passed. My heart sinks when I see my own handwriting in my mailbox because the post couldn’t locate the recipient.

Tisgna, I wrote to you in Bangkok, Thailand. Please send Elissa your new address so I can forward my letter to you.

Robin, I am quoting you from your great letter to me when you went into rhapsody about your fragrant flowers: “I think about you in your garden and how important flowers have been to you. I feel the same way. As a young girl growing up in California, I yearned to live inside a perfumed heaven of honeysuckle vines. I am lucky living here. There is perfume morning and night — stephanotis, night-blooming jasmine, gardenias and roses. Is there anything to make us happier than flowers and happy colors? I am mixing some colors this afternoon to paint some small tables I can place around the garden. Going for a bright, yellow mustard in my predominately green oasis. It also has over-hanging of shocking red-raspberry-orange bougainvillea.”

Susan, my Massachusetts friend, I reread one of your letters and never told you how happy I am that when you reread my books, you learn something new each time. Your encouragement over the years greatly adds joy to my life. I thank you for the thoughtful Thoreau stamp: a grace note indeed.

Jayne, my philosopher friend who has moved to Ohio, seeing the picture of you in front of the cottage with Peter and me, taken in 2005 when you came to a Happiness Retreat, brings the vivid memories of nearly 20 years ago to life today. Peter looks cute in his pale green turtleneck! Thank you also for sending me so many inspirational quotations. Because you wrote a book about Blaise Pascal, I know how much you love learning from the great minds of the past. When we admire their thoughts by quoting them, we clarify our thinking and feelings.

I love Emily Dickinson’s statement, “To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else.” Writing poetry and letters was her way of being and brings us all great delight.

As I wrote you last summer, I was deeply moved by the local performance of Thornton Wilder’s greatest classic American play, Our Town. When my friend Stuart told me it was opening on Broadway, I knew I wanted more of its powerful, inspirational message: Live while we’re alive! Appreciate our short time on earth.

Wilder’s greatest legacy is his play’s attempt for all of us who are still alive “to find a value above all price for the smallest events in our daily life.” In his specificity, we learn minute details of two families’ quotidian lives that make his story universal. Our Town is a play about the human condition: we haven’t fundamentally changed since the Stone Age. We’re born, we live, we learn to love, and we all know how the story ends. The everyday living experience is our life, in our town, in our time.

The controversial genius Albert Einstein wrote a (fan!) letter to Thornton Wilder after seeing Our Town in 1938. “That an American of the present day can create with such delicacy and detachment touches the soul like a miracle,” Einstein wrote. “Here is quiet originality that comes from within.” Einstein believed we live from miracle to miracle. The American writer Willa Cather understood that “Where there is great love, there are always miracles.”

We are rapt in attention for 105 minutes with no intermission, experiencing all the passages of our lives. Time stops for no one. In three acts we’re face to face with life’s uncertainty; death’s certainty. We’re directed to look up at the eternal sky. We sense something mysteriously compelling. We understand we are temporary guests in our town, interacting with one another every day. As Wilder wrote in Our Town, “We all know that something is eternal … everybody knows in their bones that something is eternal, and that something has to do with human beings.”

My friend Carolyn and I left the Barrymore Theatre feeling joyful and knowing we can do better at being human. We felt inspired to not take anything or anyone for granted. We put our full trust in Jim Parsons as the Stage Manager. Director Kenny Leon’s moving, emotionally stirring revival is a masterpiece. This reminds me of Dr. Samuel Johnson’s insight that we don’t need to be informed, we need to be “reminded.”

I’m repeating Wilder’s words we all know (and ones I quoted several months ago): “We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.” The 28 actors have real chemistry. They become their characters, bringing their feelings to us in the audience, moving us on deep levels of spiritual awakening.

“Let’s look at one another.”

My 83^rd birthday was whelming! I felt so much love and was showered in attention. Thank you for reaching out to me, remembering my birthday, sending me cards and sweet notes I loved receiving. I’m still passionately loving life. I feel so fortunate that I love where and how I live. Thank you for being such an integral part of my happiness. I now know what Robert Browning meant when he said, “The best is yet to be.” I feel privileged to be alive and thriving, able to stay vitally engaged, curious and enthusiastic.

I’m looking forward to all the wondrous gifts of life that we’re fortunate to appreciate and savor. I treasure our friendship, always grateful for our indispensable connection.

Enjoy this holiday season completely. Look to the light. We can celebrate with loved ones the greatest gifts of all, our loving attention.

Love & Live Happy,