The Dance of Giving Generously

my clutches on the dying art of letter writing

As a teen I spent my youthful angst writing long bad poetry...... What I really mean is that I trace my windy way with words and clumsy poetry to my teens; often sending long missives to hapless victims and objects of my affection. 

You see words put together for me were and still mean many things; they declutter, detox, delight, define, declare, deride and detail my feelings and thoughts You see I really like words; the construction and deconstruction of ideas and thoughts using words make me very happy.

And so as a teenager in boarding school words were a life link to the outside world...I likened boarding school to prison time. I remember spending countless hours looking out at the plush tea estates beyond the confines of our school grounds longingly. School years were dog years and I could not wait to break out and be free. 

Well I take that back now and in hindsight over two decades later, I would settle for that simple life boarding school provided anytime....

Anyway about school, angst and what-nots I spent a considerable amount of time and scant pocket money resources on onion skin writing pads to send long letters to my siblings who were far away in college then. I missed them loads and took to writing every day blabbering on and off over a span of a week or so; detailing mundane things as a way share my life experiences with them craving reciprocation. They left eons ago and for me this was a sure way to still be in each others lives across distance and time. 

You see my simple mind then and now lights up at little pleasures of letter writing. Letters for me were a way to actually share a little glimpse of your world with someone.....it intrigued me to no end what people chose to write or say or even not to say in their correspondence. 

I still write handwritten letters and mail post cards, most go unacknowledged, unnoticed and unanswered but when I do get something in my snail mail other than a bill I glow for days!! I also find it hilarious when someone drops me a one line message on email or WhatsApp to flippantly say, “thanks I got your card or letter.” Some even go the extra mile sprinkling me with digitally formed emojis... ❤️🤗🙈🙆🏿😔😂... sigh the world is changing....fast paced , digital and immediate. I have become my parents and suddenly feel very old and unrelenting, with an iron grip of what joys the good old days brought with them. I still have letters cards and notes dating back 1984 and they give me so much pleasure to keep and read from time to time. I have cards and letters from my departed friends and loved ones like my parents which I treasure.

But I am drifting....back to my teens, so one time I got a reply from my sibling with a whole load of pleased expressions about “how lovely it was to hear from me and get my letters...” It was all the encouragement I needed! I invested EVERYTHING in letters... I sent longer ones, I bought or designed my own envelopes and stationery .... worked on improving my handwriting... made a long term payment plan to work out long distance postage costs etc etc. Then the bug of poetry caught me and I sent long letters plus even longer poems...

And frankly any word of encouragement gave me more drive to do and say more.... so that meant more letters sometimes overlapping too impatient to wait for Kenyan mail system to kick in....

I can directly attribute a lot of my confidence in writing emerging from my letters and pen pals. I also realised that affirmation was one of my biggest source of strength and that holds true even today.

Needless to say, one day many years later I reconnected with my siblings at a huge grandparents family reunion thing. In this reunion I got to meet many a cousins, aunts and uncles who I had never met in person. It was wildly exciting and rather overwhelming. It was also the first time my siblings and I met in person in 5 or so years... I waited to reconnect with them with bated breath. At the reunion some younger cousins knew my siblings as there was a time they lived or boarded with them while attending university. 

One of them piped up in the way honest innocent kids do,

“Is this Chiqy that annoying sister who used to you those looong boring letters with bad poetry?” 

My sibling cringed, other cousins in hearing shot laughed mildly embarrassed on my behalf and uncomfortable as I stood there stunned soaking it all in slowly and painfully. 

It hurt, still does if I am entirely honest. 

But that’s me, wearing my heart on my sleeve and getting it scrapped and punched around. It is what it is. Well well well sigh....

So many thoughts and lessons there to ponder on.

snail mail rocks

But one that sticks to my mind is the sharp lesson I learnt on mindful giving. It took me a long time to figure out how to be generous with people I care about. Always thoughtful on what would be wanted, valued, how much of it is enough or too much or too little.....and importantly, the pruning of expectation or anticipated appreciation. This for me is a constant dance and I still fumble with the steps today.

I do think though there is something to be said about how and why we give... and a lot of it oscillates around showing our affection and high regard of our beloved. I am (still) learning when and how to give in ways that are conscious, responsive and not conflated. Often I make many mistakes and miscalculations. But it is worth the effort in trying nonetheless, this I feel is where the thought counts the most. 

We need to always be mindful as we are generous with each other and it goes both ways. If we choose to give let us do so not just to give what only we value, but what the recipient may desire....and for those fortunate to be on the receiving end, never ever look a gift horse in the mouth. 

So let us not rue the day with missed opportunities that demonstrate our thoughtfulness, devotion and caring for each other. Part of this is making efforts to being in tune with each other constantly. 

That my dears is the dance of giving generously lets keep trying at it.