The Letter Files
Recently, a friend and I met for a delicious Mediterranean dinner. We were craving dessert, a chocolate dessert to be exact, but the restaurant was operating on a limited menu, and thus, dessert was not being offered. We joked with the friendly waiter, laughing about our fervent sweet tooth. As he placed the bill on our table, he dropped a handful of bite sized chocolate bars. He said,“I had some chocolates in my car so I just ran and got them for you.” These are the small, selfless moments in life that move me to feel grateful and remind me there are plenty of good people in the world. I’m sure the waiter didn’t think grabbing chocolates from his car was a big deal, but to me it was. Many of us, myself included, hesitate to show appreciation for small actions or words which have a big impact in our lives.
Over the years, I’ve composed letters of appreciation in my head to those who have impacted me. My friend Jesse Itzler shared his habit of writing letters to those he admired, or wanted to thank when he was building his career. Although his idea stuck with me and often fills my brain, I have only sent one letter of appreciation. I daydream about who I would contact and what I would say. Some are simple, like the waiter, and some more profound. I ask myself, how have I been touched? What small things have people done that have impacted me? Can you imagine if we all made it a point to write letters to the fifth grade teacher that sparked an interest in what you’re now pursuing in life? Or the little league coach that believed in you even after repeated strike outs? Imagine how good it would feel to write those letters and how wonderful for the recipient. I thank my closest friends and family through daily actions, but I long to share my feelings with those I see infrequently, yet have made an enduring impression.
These letters have been pushing at my fingertips to get on the page and land in an inbox. I have been preparing myself to take a first step in following through on my goal of expressing my gratitude and releasing thoughts that have been locked in my heart for too long. Despite my deep desires, something holds me back. A completed letter for Jesse and his wife Sara sits cemented on my computer yet I have not had the courage to click send. Fear overtakes me and my inner voice plays cruel tricks. Will it really matter? Does anyone really care? Will I look foolish? Will they even read it? And suddenly I’m back to a file of unsent letters. Once I asked Jesse’s wife, Sara where she finds courage in an effort to find my own. She replied matter of factly, “I always have fear. It’s not that I don't live with fear, it’s just that I have enough courage to push through the fear.” A simple concept but one that hadn’t occurred to me. I just assumed everyone was brave and living absent of the fear that I tolerated. I thought I wasn’t as strong as the rest of the world. I hear Sara’s words in my ear daily, slowly crawling towards a destination of enough courage to hit send and empty my file of letters.
For me there’s an undercurrent to this story, it bubbles beneath the surface, hidden from view. When you live through some dark sh*#, you see who finds the words or time to guide you through. I’m grateful for small acts of kindness or words of strength, as they were often my lifeline to getting through an ordinary day. The support I have felt has been astounding, overwhelming at times, resulting in more letters drafted for the file. Support comes in many forms, sometimes it was understanding when I needed to cancel plans at the last minute, other times offering financial help when my credit cards were cancelled and bank account drained to $16.00, or the simple act of dropping off a bag of bagels during the mandatory quarantine.
You may be wondering who was the recipient of the only letter I’ve sent to date. I had been thinking about this one for months, maybe years. It was to thank my friend for his words uttered 3 years ago. We met on a retreat at Jesse’s house, and on the last day, during the final hours of the retreat, I revealed some of my personal struggles. His words have stayed with me throughout my journey, and resonated when making life changing decisions. He candidly spoke, “It is not your responsibility to make that man happy.” That’s all he uttered, and a neon light bulb ignited over my head. My courage overcame my fear and an appreciation letter was sent. Reflecting on the small impactful comments from unexpected friends and acquaintances brings me closer to finding my courage.
I wonder if I’ve ever said or done something that impacted someone deeply. I hope I have. I hope that somewhere along the way I’ve caused someone to pause and think, given someone hope, direction, advice that changed their life, a support in their belief system or growth. So much of my writing is based in this desire to help others in some small way. As I struggled through my difficult journey, I felt alone, like I was the only human who had ever experienced my emotions. When I think about it from this perspective, I wonder if someday I’ll receive a letter acknowledging my words that seemed unimportant at the time, and maybe that will foster my courage to finally set my letters free.