When I want to make a purchase, give a donation, complete a business transaction or share an idea I turn to the internet. The speed and convenience of this digital world serves me well in these relationships. Daily information gathering and communications are similarly well served online. So when is it the right time to go offline?
This time of year is an endless deluge of ads and donation requests. It is with pleasure then that over the past week I have received a few very enjoyable pieces of literature from organizations and companies that I am connected to. I am specifically using the word “literature” because what they have sent me is many things but is definitely not merely an “advertisement” , “sales flyer”, “catalog” or “donation request”. All of those are certainly components of the various mailers but each one of them is significantly more than that. They are filled primarily with the thoughts, feelings, concerns and aspirations of the individuals involved in the organizations. Well crafted expressions and stories that don’t rely on product or cause tie-ins.
I believe that special moments during the year – and year ends/year beginnings are certainly that – are the perfect opportunity to connect with people on a deeper level. Rivendale Bicycles sent out the latest edition of their Reader which hadn’t come out in over a year; Voyager North sent out their latest Gazette. In it, like always, they provided me with stories that had little or nothing to do with their business but that they found important enough to their perspective and lives that they wanted to share them. The sharing of themselves fills me with a bit of wonder and engagement: it’s like magic.
These are the sorts of stories that are highlighted even further by saying, “this is something worthy of being printed”. I relish in the thought provoking and engaging statements that bring me in closer to these people. The organizations that recently mailed me their literary contributions have sent me a gift. The effort in choosing the right paper, creating a beautiful layout and filling it with only the most thoughtful and heartfelt content is the sort of thing lost in the speed of the digital world.
If I received this type of physical mailer more regularly though it would lose that special-ness. I suppose the gift that the internet has then given me is an even greater appreciation of the slow, handmade crafting of the physical world.