gressoney-la-trinite, italian alps, 7/2/09
s u y e o n in nyc: reports from life

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

One of my favorite things is to get letters from my friends. I like hearing about how they feel and think about what their life is lately. Something about learning about the interior life of the people I care about makes me feel good. I think that no matter what, writing a letter is a hopeful act. It means that we think that we can make a connection, even when the news we have to share isn't all that good. Maybe it's because there's no news that's all bad. Even if we're talking about something very sad, like how much we miss someone who's gone, there's happiness mixed into it, because we're remembering something nice, and telling someone about it brings it back. I think that's something really confusing about being an adult - that it's the things that bring us joy that can also end up hurting us. So it's a relief to tell someone about it, and have them confirm that indeed, it doesn't make sense. That makes its own kind of sense.

1 comments:

Nancy said...

i like this entry and i miss ya. :)