The Warmth of a Mailbox

October 22, 2013

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tell me a package addressed like this wouldn't make your day.

tell me a package addressed like this wouldn’t make your day.

I’m getting tired of email.

Actually, that’s not entirely correct. I’m actually getting tired of massive amounts of communication and the technology that delivers it. There is much that has been written over the death of communication and language thanks to the Internet, and I’m not really inclined to add to that pile. I could just as easily champion the Internet and all the wonderful people it has brought to and back to my little world.

What it boils down to is meaningful conversation – or thought. Words. And paper. Or, better yet, thoughtfulness.

Yes, I’ll trade a bit of immediacy for all of that. Right now.

I penned a note not too long ago and sent it across the ocean. It was the first time in years I’d done that. I could have easily emailed or IMed this person, but it felt good to write it – actually write it. You can’t delete ink, so the words were thought out, considered. That felt good, too.

Not too long ago someone made my (actual) mailbox sparkle a bit – and that felt like a sip of bourbon and cashmere. I think I’d like to feel like that more. I think others should feel that way, too.

This site has had green dots up on the header for a long time. At first, years ago, it was just because I liked the pattern. Then it was because I loved the green dot “available” metaphor in chat windows I came to smile about. But, that’s not really the state of my laptop screen anymore.

I knew it was time for this little piece of the Internet to get a visual and content overhaul, I just couldn’t figure out the starting point. I think my mailbox and my pen have solved that conundrum.

And it feels like cashmere and bourbon.

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