the art of writing letters.

I am on a journey to become more thoughtful this year.

A conversation that I had with my sister back in November has stuck with me. In it, she expressed how she always tries to think of others, but sometimes it feels like shouting into a void. She’ll call; she’ll send random letters. It’s hardly reciprocated.

This broke my heart, but mostly, it filled me with shame.

because I am one of those voids that she shouts into.

My sister is one of the most thoughtful people I know. She FaceTimes, she always sends cards on holidays, she sends cards just because, she checks in, she sends videos of her kids opening presents to the people who gifted them as a thank you.

I, on the other hand, have largely considered myself a “bad friend” and often get so swept away in my own life that I don’t make time for others.

Being more thoughtful is something I’ve wanted to improve for years. Maybe a decade.

Because I think of people all the time. But I’ve learned that it’s not enough. What good does thinking about them do if they don’t know about it?

I made baby steps to improve this in 2025. I started scheduling reminders to check in with someone about something they’re going to. I started intentionally sending voice notes instead of texts when I want it to feel more personal. I started carving out time for Zoom dates to catch up with people. I started texting people ahead of time if I know I’ll be in their area.

and this year, I’m returning to the art of writing letters.

I’ve always loved writing letters. I love the art of finding the perfect pen; the perfect card to write on.

I love sealing up an envelope, addressing it, and putting a stamp on it. I love dropping it in the outbox for the mail-person to find and carry away. I love the passage of my sealed words through a network of human hands.

With the rise of social media and AI, things generally feel less personal these days.

In this awareness, I’m drawn back to the magic of receiving an actual hand-written letter in the mail.

It’s a feeling of magic that I haven’t totally lost, considering my best friend from kindergarten and I have been writing each other letters since college.

The two of us barely keep in touch aside from random Snapchats and our (mostly) yearly in-person catch-up sessions.

And yet, I still feel like I know about her life. And her heart. Because I get a letter from her in the mail every few months.

we are tried and true pen pals.

The thing I love most about getting physical mail is that it actually replicates the feeling of having that person’s presence there with you. There’s a sense of their essence that leaks into their handwriting that can be felt. It feels like a small piece of them is there in the room with you.

And I am a firm believer that our presence is the most powerful thing that we can give someone.

There’s an intimacy that gets leaked onto the page when you pen out what is on your mind; what is happening in your life.

And for the receiver to witness that… it creates a portal of connection that runs deeper than words on a screen.

A way to be known and seen.

writing letters is a way to be present, even when you aren’t.

It’s a little surprise in the mail that says, “I’m here.”

Another thing I love?

It’s a great way to support small businesses and independent artists.

I get most of my cards from Lana of Lana’s Shop. She’s a local illustrator in Colorado that creates the most beautiful pieces of stationary. It feels good to spend my money on something that was created with love and then infuse my own love into it—and then send that little capsule of love off to someone else.

I love scouring bookstores and stationary shops whenever I’m traveling and seeing if they stock postcards from local artists. Nine out of ten times, they do.

And it’s a delight to bring the people I love to those places, through art.

writing letters is a web of artwork.

And it doesn’t have to be complicated.

You can write big; you can write small. You can write in broad strokes; you can write more specifically. You can write in print; you can write in cursive (unless you’re part of the new generation that apparently isn’t learning cursive… sigh). You can write with doodles and pictures. You can literally just say, “Hi, I was thinking of you.”

I don’t want to be a society that loses the art of handwriting; that loses the art of expression through pen-on-paper.

So, I’m walking the walk and being more thoughtful this year.

I don’t want to be the void anymore.

I want to be the portal into deep, meaningful connection.

Who’s with me?!

xx

Court

P.S. This is the deeper intent behind my Sunyata Collective—to create connection through presence and remind you of mundane, everyday magic! Sending monthly postcards is part of that (as well as monthly expression sessions on Zoom!), because it serves as a physical reminder that you aren’t alone and that life is full of love. Want in? Message me to chat! <3