Change at a Snail's Pace

Each day is remarkably different than the next, no matter how much our perception is skewed and we are deceived in the thought that the same song is sung, day after day.  Perhaps there is a new verse with the addition of yet another chorus stanza?  Routine is one thing, but time is all the music in the whole, wide, world.

Over the years, it is easier to take note of the drastic changes of our ever evolving existence.  Think about the generations who came before us.  Think about the exponential increase of advances that they have experienced in the mere eighty years which they have lived.  From communicating via hand-written letters, to rooms full of telephone operators and a room full of a single computer, with advances in the audio and television networked-world, ground and air transportation to space travel and infinite information literally fits in the palm of our hands. 

Where, then, exactly, does that hand-written one fit in?  Surely by evolutionary standards, our palms are large enough to hold them, too.

So why, then, are we single handedly sabotaging the service that pioneered interpersonal communication?  Generations upon generations put pen to paper to keep in touch.  In this 21st century, letter writing has become a dying art form.  Advances in information technology have done wonders for our society, which is why a movement to increase the circulation of sending letters and letter-writing, could be so successful.  Perhaps it is a matter of sentimental and emotional connection, which suggests the need and desire to communicate this way.  Whatever it is, and whatever your thoughts, write them down and mail them in.  

Snail mail CAN prevail. 

_______________________________________________________

The other day, I was handed an asinine editorial article about the failing United States Postal Service.  My opinion aside, the author of the article just failed to present a solid argument.  However, as saving the USPS is one of my life pursuits, I couldn't help but write a response:

Mr. Black could be applauded for his attempt of appropriate use of "massive anachronism."  Unfortunately, his applause ends there.  Anyone who has traveled to a lesser developed country has likely experienced a failing mail delivery system.  The United States Postal Service was initially created for a transference of information and like most advances, has evolved to an extremely efficient service.  The USPS has one of the best hand delivered mail and parcel services in the entire world.

Let's take a look at economics and practicality.  Mr. Black states, "...like the humble penny, [it] is a leftover waste of a bygone era."  His complaints seem to stem from an economic standpoint of contributing to national debt as well as "a horrible business model."  [Save talk of military operations and national debt for another post.]

As a human being in the 21st century, it is important to take advantage of ecologically friendly and  cost minimizing services such as paying bills online, thus reducing paper trails.  Mr. Black, however, has seem to forgotten (or worse, never known), the primary purpose of the US Postal Service: personal correspondence.  It is extremely disheartening and unfortunate to recognize that those of Mr. Black's generation are missing out on such a unique and interpersonal experience, as writing and receiving hand-written parcels.

With today's capabilities and desire for instantaneous communication, interpersonal communication like that of the dying art of the hand-written note, has taken a back seat to instant gratification, even though a long road of patience still lies ahead.

The hand-written letter, unlike computerized communication such as emails and texts and automated operators (think about how it feels to navigate through a computerized tele-operator), evokes emotions and stimulates brain activity which might possibly be boxed up and stored away in an attic, encased in cobwebs, unless otherwise occupied.  Think of the shame future generations would discover, upon uncovering segments of the brain once used for writing. 

Sending and receiving letters through the USPS is not only about thoughtful communication, as it takes time and energy to sit down and correspond with pen and paper and postage, but also encourages the use of artistic expression.   Think about the variety of stamps world-wide, not to mention the choice of stationary and the endless opportunities of creating one's own.  In addition, mailing letters links and unifies cultures in the inaccessible and most remote parts of the wold.  It is still possible that the Internet has still yet to reach these deep crevasses.

The fact of the matter is that the USPS provides jobs for over 8 million people and pulls in nearly $1 trillion annually, to the economy, according to this recent New York Times article.  And although the numbers of annual economic loss do not lie, it is unfortunate that citizens would choose alternative delivery systems to transport their packages, than utilize an over 200 year old reliable method that could clearly use their assistance.  Humans will never stop shipping and receiving items and if a heightened awareness and increased recognition were paid, perhaps so would some of its debt.

Of course, there is always the option of trading one "anachronism" for another, Mr. Black.  According to an article in Time (February 4th, 2013), eliminating the copper penny from US circulation would save the economy $730 million annually, and likely wouldn't compromise the employment of as many citizens.

Broadcasting major, Mr. Black, the invitation is officially extended to join the Norman Pen Pal Club, to experience the tangible and emotion-evoking written letter, help resurrect the ailing Postal Service and trade 46 pennies for a tiny piece of art, creating a colossal stamp on his generation.

Norman Pen Pal Club
1124 W. Comanche Street
Norman, OK  73069

Save vanishing Snail Mail!

Commitment is the Key to Unlocking Transience

Finally, a minute to breath...

To Think of Time

1

To think of time-of all that retrospection,
To think of to-day, and the ages continued henceforward.

Have you guess'd you yourself would not continue?
Have you dreaded these earth-beetles?
Have you fear'd the future would be nothing to you?

Is to-day nothing? is the beginningless past nothing?
If the future is nothing they are just as surely nothing.

To think that the sun rose in the east-that men and women 
  were flexible, real, alive-that every thing was alive,
To think that you and I did not see, feel, think, nor bear our     
 part,
To think that we are now here and bear our past.

--Walt Whitman

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Special things happen when we decide to make a commitment.  For people who like to fly, committing to things is not often easy.  We tend to get distracted by the "greener grass" syndrome, or simply, wanderlust or ignorance.  

The idea of commitment can take many shapes and sail many seas and trek across rocky terrain and travel to the moon and back before committing itself to the planet Earth.

In this 2013 year, I told myself I would commit to something. Anything could do.  Gradually, I found out the commitment would take shape in the form of a location.  And that location would be Norman, Oklahoma.  On the outside, I guess it doesn't seem like much of a commitment, but as soon as I made that decision, the world opened up, wider than traveling all around it ever could.

When I was offered a job to teach English as a second language at the University of Oklahoma, I didn't think twice about taking it. I know it had everything to do with the commitment resolution I had made a couple of weeks prior.  And it felt really good.  For the first time, in a very long time, I don't feel like my feet are hanging out with my head, up in the clouds.  The ground feels firm and cushy and flexible, beneath my feet and the clouds are fluffy and like thought bubbles around my head.  I think there could be something to this teaching profession...

I'm no stranger to being thrown into something new and expected to figure things out, with only a little help and a little guidance, along the way.  Basically, enough to make you feel like the pool you're swimming in is big and deep and wide, but on the other hand, you have to learn how not to drown, by listening to the voices on the pool's perimeters.  Two weeks into classes, I finally figured out the best way to keep your head above water, is simply, to float on top of it.

My students mainly come from the East, where oil is cheaper than water and their country's population takes up ten spaces on piece of paper.  It is a different experience to be among the majority, until you are among the minority, once you cross the classroom threshold. I have been an outsider many times in my life but this is a completely new experience- to be "noticed" the way one is "noticed" while traveling overseas, but you haven't even left your backyard. 

And yet, therein lies the beauty.

There is something about the Oklahoma winter and the dormancy of nature, which adds to the comfort of my new found commitment. Sparseness surrounds us these days, making it easy to want to shed ourselves from material possessions, or helping allow us a better acceptance of loss (whatever form it may take).  We can reconnect with our simplicity, while anticipating the new growth of the spring.

Right now, it is a good time to be back in Oklahoma.
Perhaps this simple sense of self realization is just the thing to help keep me from becoming...committed.