• Post category:Good Grief

I’m gonna wrap myself in paper
I’m gonna daub myself with glue
Stick some stamps on top of my head
I’m gonna mail myself to you

I’m gonna tie me up in a red string
I’m gonna tie blue ribbons too
I’m gonna climb up in my mailbox
I’m gonna mail myself to you

Woody Guthrie’s song makes me think about the way letters and cards, emails and packages, connect people like so many dot-to-dot pictures. 

Basically, we send a piece of ourselves out into the world, into a specific someone’s world. And we do so in ways that are in keeping with our personalities and resources: we use memo paper or fine parchment, crayons or markers, pens or pencils. We choose greeting cards that sing or maintain silence, we add stickers or enclose pictures. We sign the whole thing with care and send it out.

Then we resume life, running errands, making breakfast, scrubbing bathroom grout.

And what about our little note?

It takes on a life of its own, accomplishing the goal for which we commissioned it, that’s what happens to it. It enters the home of the intended recipient, likely buried under the latest summons to “sales events” at Macy’s/Chico’s/Kohl’s, the most recent “last chance” deals from Geico/Comcast/Verizon, the next round of bills awaiting last week’s paycheck, and a note addressed to “Resident” marked “PERSONAL AND CONFIDENTIAL” thrown in for good measure.

Our little note, or card, or package, comes up for air in this sea of paper, and the recipient knows instantly he or she is being personally thought of. Not because they owe money or have a credit card or once helped a worthwhile organization and can never, ever get off the mailing list. But because a real, live, busy human being across the town or across the world cared and made the effort to say so.

Now here’s the thing. We may never know what good our little note does. The person we mail it to may plan to let us know how it made them laugh or cry or think or feel less alone. But maybe they will only think they told us. They may put our little note on their fridge or desk or use it as a bookmark or put it in the other piles they keep meaning to get to. In which case, they will get to read it over and over, as they shuffle and reorganize their piles. Ask me how I know this.

Basically, it will always be a good idea to do something, however imperfectly. If we have the time and inclination, we can write a long note. If we don’t, we can write a short one. Or a postcard. Or a one-sentence email. Or a text. Or even a tweet, I suppose. But one way or another…

I’m gonna mail myself to you. 

That’s my musing for the morning. Signed, sealed, and delivered!