Thursday, April 25, 2024

A recent Daily Telegraph story tells us how cathartic it can be to write an angry letter but not send it. The same would go for email and text messages. Phone messages? Not so much, as I don’t know of a way to pull them back after the message has been recorded. I’ve noticed it may be possible to “undo” a sent text or email message, but only right after you’ve sent it. That’s a handy feature in my book. 

My creative process starts with a title (or a quotation if I can’t think of something to write about). Once I have the title, I get pounding on the keyboard. Sometimes I have an idea of where I want to end up. Other times I’ll just bash away until I run out of words—and then consider the result. 

"I seem to recall my creative writing teacher telling me it’s best to start with an idea leading to a destination. But sometimes I don’t know what my position is on a topic until I write about it. So much for a private school education. For me, the writing process clarifies and produces my opinion. It’s probably the wrong way to go, but it’s served me well for many years."

I’m told that it can also be cathartic to write, on a piece of paper, a summary of a painful situation or a person who you’d rather not think about ever again. I was reminded of this when watching the most recent Bond movie, No Time to Die. Writing about something you’d like to forget, then burning the paper, allowing the ashes to waft off into the breeze, seems to be a lovely way to drive a stake through the heart of what you want to forget or, at least, to loosen its clutches on your 4:00 a.m. thoughts.

Which brings me to the things we all carry around with us. If you’ve lived long enough, you’ll have some baggage you just can’t seem to let go of. Want to get rid of it? Try the burning paper experiment. I have, and it works. But what about when you’re upset with someone, but you don’t have paper and matches handy? Then try the “angry letter” method suggested in the Telegraph article. Write the person the most incendiary, cutting, raw message you can. Put everything in it. Put in print all the things you imagine saying to them but never would. Labour over your words. Create a work of art. Savour it.

But don’t send it. 

"I’ve taken a lot of pleasure writing and not sending messages to colleagues, relatives, and friends over the years. It’s like lancing a boil. And it’s amazing that such a simple process can bring so much relief."

It’s never a good idea to tell people what you really think of them. That’s why diplomacy, customs, and civility were invented. This is even more important today, when telling someone what you think and highlighting their shortcomings can have long-lasting results when everything lasts seemingly forever on the Internet. So, write the message. Write it so hot that it’s likely to burn the house down. Then delete it. Or burn it. Trust me, you’ll feel better afterwards.

Here a link to “The art of the unsent angry letter and why they’re so cathartic.” I’m sure you’ll get a lot out of it. I know I did.

Bouquets

Has a colleague gone out of their way to help you? Let me know and I’ll mention it in my next column. Email me at kspencer@gvrealtors.ca.