I want to tell you about three things I have in my bedroom and one thing I have in my wallet.
In my bedroom: a ream of card stock, a packet of red envelopes, a box of markers. In my wallet: a sheaf of stamps.
I have these four things because I want to make it easy to let people know I miss, care about them. That I’m delighted, excited for them. That I think they are terrific.
I want there to be as few barriers as possible between me thinking, “I should send her a note” and me sending that note. And I don’t want to lug around the regret of love unexpressed.
After I’ve written one of those notes, I walk to the post office, drop the red envelope in the mailbox and know that no matter what else happened today, at least I let someone know they were loved.
And this, I’ve found, really refreshes my soul. Perhaps especially on the days when the sun didn’t shine and the news was crummy.
Which has led me to think that of the things I own, these four things – which, ironically, if used properly, I don’t own for long – might be some of the most important.