Years ago, before most people had e-mail, I wrote — and received — letters. Letters extended several of my high school friendships almost through college, and some of my college friendships into my working years. Letters also nurtured the relationship that became my marriage.
Now we have e-mail. And social networking sites. And blogs. And cell phone texting. All are so much faster and easier than letters. But for me, they leave something significant to be desired.
A letter takes minutes (maybe hours) to write, days to deliver, and a week or more for a response. So when writing a letter, a person carefully considers the content. The content may be light-hearted, but the purpose is serious.
I don’t get letters anymore. I tried sending letters after the e-revolution hoping that someone would reply, but no one did. Neither, in my experience, do people respond to letters disguised as e-mail. At least, not in kind.
I suspect that people have become uncomfortable with the depth a letter calls for because of how much our modern, urban, technological culture has isolated us from each other. It’s ironic: these technologies that boast of bringing us closer and these cities that bring us together physically have discouraged us from deeply knowing each other.
I still get “snail mail,” but the senders are interested not in me but in my money. The mailbox has lost its charm.
Letters have not been replaced, but displaced. We haven’t stopped needing depth in our relationships. And for that, no high technology is necessary: paper and pen, an envelope and a stamp will do.
Posted by 2reasons 
Posted by 2reasons 
