Love Letters straight from the Heart.

Remember letters? You wrote to someone on paper, put it in an envelope, addressed, stamped  and posted it.

A bundle of friends.

A bundle of friends.

Remember the feeling when you get a letter? Remember the feeling of anticipation, trying to guess who it may be from if you don’t recognize the writing. How long since you wrote a letter or since someone wrote a letter to you?

I don’t mean emails. I love emails. They’re quick, can be brief, are great for making arrangements and for staying in touch with a lot of people.

So far, I haven’t used Facebook much, but I can see how  useful it is for sharing stuff with lots of people.

But real letters, think about them for a moment. Think about letters you’ve received that mattered to you. Do you have a bundle of kept letters? If you’re young, you may never have received one. Do you still get birthday cards in the mail or is an email good enough?

Treasured letters.

Treasured letters.

I have a letter from my grandmother so old the paper is worn away in some of its folds. There’s a note my father sent me when I was seventeen and had just left home. A box of cards from  people I have never met sent to me in hospital, a very ill girl far away from home. They gave me the courage to keep going.  Do I keep emails?

Well yes, sometimes I do, but…do I re-read them? Do I hold them in my hand and treasure them? Do they bring back memories of that person as I see her beloved handwriting? Do I remember the moment I found them in the letter box?

There’s discussion here in Australia about ending a daily mail delivery. I had been thinking about letters, prompted by the rarity of my receiving any before this discussion began. Somehow it now seems more urgent. One of my friends is diligent about sending cards and my mother was known and appreciated for sending notes to her friends to let them know she was thinking of them. I’m slack at sending birthday cards- first I have to find one I like, then I resist the cost.. often I end up with a card I haven’t managed to post. I have several August birthdays I meant to…

If I like getting a letter, won’t other people enjoy it too?

Letters provide us with history. They fill in the detail. Cronechronicler is blogging the letters she sent her small sons while she and their father were abroad. Fortunately she had kept them. I have a letter my mother had kept for more than fifty years- I wrote it to her when she was away in hospital and I was twelve. I don’t remember writing it and that twelve year old self is a distant echo. You can imagine my feelings when I found it, after her death. I was so glad that twelve year old had written it.

Maybe they're full of letters!

Maybe they’re full of letters!

While I’ve been pondering getting mail and writing letters and as we Australians may lose our regular mail delivery, I discovered a movement to send a letter to a stranger through a TED talk (God bless TED!). Hannah Bencher, whose mother wrote regularly to her, became depressed after college, so she did what came naturally- she wrote love letters to strangers and left them wherever she went. She blogged about this and promised “if you ask me for a hand-written letter, I will write you one.” Overnight she was inundated with requests. As she says “her inbox morphed into this harbor of heartbreak”.

This simple beginning is now a global initiative- “The world  needs more love letters.”  Her talk is moving and inspiring and the stories she tells will warm your  heart. I am determined to take paper and pen and write! I have bought some sheets of beautiful paper, I have stacks of cards…maybe my neighbour would like a letter in her box? In the meantime, I have those August birthdays. It’s not too late to write.

 

 

 

 

 

Listening would change the world

I believe with my whole heart, that if we were to practise the skill of active listening we could change the world. Just think about it. Simply by being given the gift of active listening people would feel heard and validated; conflicts would be far fewer because we would truly understand what the other was saying; sometimes if we ourselves were truly heard we would be helped to understand what it was that we wanted to say.

Now this is coming from an accomplished chatterbox. I’m one of the world’s talkers. However, learning the skill of active listening transformed my life. I was no longer totally intimidated by situations. I knew I could always simply reflect back what I had heard. And when I am focused I can choose to offer to the other the gift of true listening. I don’t always talk! When was the last time you truly felt heard? You know that, in your gut, this person has heard what I have to say and may even have helped you to understand yourself better?

One of my favourite things is to teach Communication Skills. Having some of those skills has empowered and enabled me. It is thrilling to share them and watch as light dawns for people. However, it is not simple. I have found that one of the most challenging things for most people is to listen and simply reflect back what they have heard, without giving advice. It seems to be hardwired into our systems to give advice. Maybe it comes from a need to make things better, I don’t know, or maybe we don’t want to feel bad. You think about it- do you want someone to tell you what to do? Or do you want someone to truly hear you? My bristles go up the instant I start being told what I should do, unless I’ve asked for help and that’s completely different. And here I feel I need to apologise to my friends for the endless times I still fall into the trap of giving them unnecessary advice. All we need to do is, listen.

This poem says it all: Listen

When I ask you to listen to me and you start giving me advice you have not done what I asked. When I ask you to listen to me and you begin to tell me why I should not feel that way, you are trampling on my feelings. When I ask you to listen to me and you feel you have to do something to solve my problems, you have failed me, strange as that may seem. Listen! all I ask is that you listen. Not talk or do- just hear me. Advice is cheap: 50 cents will give you both Dorothy Dix and Dr Spock in the same newspaper. And I can DO for myself; I’m not helpless. Maybe discouraged and faltering, but not helpless. When you do something for me that I can and need to do for myself, you contribute to my fear and weakness. But when you accept as a simple fact that I do feel what I feel, no matter how irrational, then I quit trying to convince you and can go about the business of understanding what’s behind this irrational feeling. And when that’s clear the answers are obvious and I don’t need advice. So. please listen and just hear me, and if you want to talk, wait a minute for your turn; and I’ll listen to you. Anonymous.