You Probably Haven’t Done This in Years …

When was the last time you wrote a letter?

Not a quick text.

Not an email dashed off between meetings or errands. 

 A real letter — written slowly, with intention, meant for just one person.

 I was thinking about this after reading the novel - The Correspondent,by Virginia Evans, just published last year. 

It’s quietly taken off… and what makes it so compelling isn’t a dramatic plot or big reveal.

The entire book is told through letters — the correspondence of the main character, a woman in her 70's navigating her life, grief, regrets, successes, and of course, connection. 

At first blush, it doesn’t feel extraordinary.

But on second glance, it captures something deeper — everyday life, and the threads of connection that shape it.

She writes letters to everyone.

To the people she loves — her best friend, her brother, her children. 

But also to authors she admires like Ann Patchett and Joan Didion … to customer service representatives … to her neighbors.

They’re thoughtful. Personal. Many with a tinge of humor. 

And what you begin to see if just how powerful this kind of reflection and expression can be - both for the writer and for the person receiving it. 

Letter writing as a means of connection is so powerful - especially when the people we are writing to live at a distance.  And of course it works best as an addition to our relationships, not a replacement for being present in them. 

This story connected to me, as I grew up in a world where letter writing was simply part of life.

Letters to grandparents.
To cousins.
Even a pen pal in Austria (which, at the time, felt incredibly exotic and exciting).

In college, when phone calls were expensive and saved for late nights or weekends, letters became everything.

I can still remember the anticipation — walking to the post office, opening my PO box, and feeling that small thrill when there was something waiting inside.

I’d head straight back to my dorm room, read every word, and often sit down immediately to write back.

My college boyfriend (now husband) and I wrote constantly.
Somewhere in my house, there’s still a box filled with those letters.

So when did this become a lost art?
Of course — with the advancements in technology.

We’ve traded depth for speed.
Connection for efficiency.

 I read a line recently that stuck with me:

“We’ve optimized our conversations for efficiency.”

You can feel it everywhere.

“How are you?” has become a throwaway phrase —
not really meant to be answered.

Texting makes it easier to stay in touch…
but the richness — the storytelling, the reflection, the meaning — has quietly faded.

So I decided to try something.

I sat down to write a letter to my childhood best friend.

I made a cup of coffee.
Cleared a little space.
Picked up a smooth-writing pen — and just started penning a correspondence.

And it felt… different.

Slower.
More thoughtful.
Almost restorative.

I was honestly grateful for the experience of having done it … For reminding myself that yes, I could make time for it. 

It even felt like a small accomplishment - and put a smile on my face as I placed a stamp on it and walked the letter out to my mailbox.  

Here's the truth (and we all know this):

Our relationships are one of the most powerful drivers of long-term health.

Not just being in touch — but being meaningfully connected.

Those moments where we reflect, share, remember, and express gratitude —
they matter more than we often realize.

They quite literally change how we feel.

So here’s a simple habit to consider:

Write one letter a week.

It could be to the same person.
Or a different person each time.

No pressure. No perfection. Just a few honest pages.

And maybe — just maybe — it becomes more than a letter.

Maybe it becomes a beautiful ritual. 

Not everything that supports our health needs to be optimized.
Sometimes, it just needs to be felt.