Sobriquet 105.1: An Unexpected Joy

It's been ages since I've written anything here and I can't say that this post will be substantial or otherwise interesting to anyone except for myself, but I feel compelled to share a small observation with the world nonetheless.

Over the past couple of weeks, I have been handwriting letters for the first time in what must be decades. While I have long been aware of the studies that suggest taking notes by hand is better for memory retention and improves learning, I nevertheless persisted in typing on a keyboard for virtually all of my writing. As an academic, I write all of my conference papers, journal articles, and monograph manuscripts on a computer. I wrote both my master's thesis and my doctoral dissertation with a keyboard. While I do take notes by hand and put marginalia on printed copies of the journal articles I read, I still transfer all of those notes to a computer file before I begin writing.

I mention this because, for all intents and purposes, I am not a handwriting-oriented person and, really, never have been. I have never openly lamented the loss of an under-appreciated skill nor have I ever felt that, in using word processing software, something precious from my youth has been replaced by a soulless, entirely pragmatic version of that skill. In fact, I have always found writing much smoother on a word processor or computer (and, yes, that is deliberate: I once owned a Brother word processor and loved it). I tend to edit as I write and find that the ability to edit in the moment serves my style of writing well.

So, when necessity demanded that I begin handwriting messages, I was surprised to find how much satisfaction I took from the process. The scratching of the pen tip on a sheet of paper gave me some genuine auditory gratification while I watched the pen strokes form words. As I wrote more, I grew even more appreciative of the activity. It was slow, methodical, and repetitive--but in a much more meditative way than a tedious one. 

As the days grow shorter and the longer, cooler nights keep us indoors, I have the strange notion that I have inadvertently discovered an activity that might hold seasonal affective issues at bay. It is nice to have found something that encourages mindfulness, slows me down, and grants some sense of purpose. While I have never been one of those stubbornly analogue writers that swear by the pen's superiority to the blinking cursor, I am beginning to appreciate their wisdom...as I type.