Tuesday thoughts And The Letter That Made My Day

Isabelle
Sep 30, 2025
3 min read

Hi Friends,

Thank you for your feedback on last week’s tool where i showed you how to replace an old unwan memory with a new one. This week, it's story time. A short story:

The Little Envelope That Made My Day

There it was, sitting quietly in my mailbox — a small envelope tucked between grocery ads and bills. The paper was soft, a little thicker than usual, and my name was written across the front in familiar handwriting. My daughter noticed it right away and asked, a little surprised, “What’s that?” Without even opening it, I smiled and said, “That’s a thank-you card from 'Susie'.” (not her real name)

And of course, I was right.

A week earlier, I had sent Susie a birthday gift. Honestly, it wasn’t anything elaborate — I ordered it through Amazon, clicked a few buttons, and let the box show up at her door. Thoughtful, yes, I thought about what would bring her joy and what she liked by remembering her beautifully decorated house. So, I chose some pretty, fall themed candles. Thoughtful, but quick and easy.

And yet, in return, here was this little treasure: a handwritten note on beautiful paper, her words carefully penned. Sometimes, because she’s Susie, she adds a little surprise tucked inside. A little tea bag. “Something I thought you’d enjoy,” she wrote.

That’s the kind of gesture that makes you feel seen. Not just thanked, but valued.

As I read her words, I felt wrapped in warmth, like she had reached across the miles and said, you matter to me. She lives up North, where we met, about 30 years ago. And then, if I’m honest, a small pang of guilt crept in. Because she’s so consistent with this — so good at pausing, slowing down, and sending beauty into the world. And I… am not.

I love people. I send texts, I give gifts, I show up. But paper? Handwritten words that can be held, reread, and kept? That’s become rare in my world.

And yet… isn’t that the power of it? Paper lingers. It sits on the counter or the nightstand, catching your eye as you pass by, whispering, you are loved, you are remembered. In a digital world that vanishes with a swipe, ink on paper feels like presence made to last.

In a way, handwritten notes are like vinyl records or film cameras. They’ve been pushed aside by faster, more convenient technology, but when they resurface, they carry a depth and nostalgia no screen can replace. Just like dropping a needle on a record feels different than hitting play on Spotify, opening a card in your mailbox stirs something in the soul that a text message never could. Maybe we’re all hungry for more of that — the slow, intentional, tangible beauty of simple things.

That little envelope reinforced something in me that I know is true: how meaningful the simple, tangible things can be.

So, here’s my gentle challenge to you (and to me): write one note this week. Just one. It doesn’t need to be long or fancy. Pick someone you care about, and let them know in your own handwriting that they matter to you. Slip it into their mailbox, tuck in a tea bag if you want, and trust me — it will land in their heart.

Because sometimes, the smallest envelope carries the biggest love.

PS: Message me for a free consult to start moving toward a more confident you.

You are loved. Deeply loved. Loved beyond measure.

Until next time,

Isabelle