We All Serve

We all serve (which wolf do you feed)

by the ADHD Accountant – Krid

There are many things that we can do day-to-day that can bring pleasure, however fleeting. Those things that are ultimately only self-gratifying are often the most fleeting, and the easiest to achieve. Now I am not a psychologist, or anything more than an armchair theologian and philosopher. Everything that I am talking about is apocryphal or anecdotal. I admit to all manner of bias and that there are filters to my perception. Yet, having said that, I think that I have some kernel of an idea of a truth.

The time spent on something is often related to the satisfaction on the completion. This, though, seems largely to be a corollary between a buildup of anxiety towards completion and achieving that target. I posit that the bigger effect we feel is based on what we have provided to others, and it’s enduring nature, provides consistent happiness that can transcend the moment. For this discussion I am ignoring works done in a team.

Evidence of this can be seen through juxtaposition; I don’t know if you have seen the movie “Hacksaw Ridge” or read of numerous frontline crisis workers; often you will see a common theme. People are driven by their “failures.” This is a function in some ways of our biology where negative stimuli are more motivating than positive for long-term behaviors. These souls are often tormented by their failures. Many can count, even name, the individuals they were not able to help. Many of them cannot count, cannot name, those that they have saved.

Some direct evidence can be seen in two cases; trust-fund baby, and Mother Theresa. Trust-fund baby (TFB) and Mother Theresa (MT) are opposites. TFB has everything and is not happy. MT has nothing (comparatively) and by all accounts was serene and satisfied with her choices and actions.

TFB spends money trying to find happiness. They are often unable to relate to their parents who had earned their money, and seek transitory pleasure to numb themselves against despair. They try, through self-gratification and through possessions to achieve enough happiness to inure themselves against the emptiness of their existence.

MT gave away most of the money that she had in her possession and dedicated herself to a cause, providing assistance and comfort to others. She took extraordinary risks to work in communities where her sex and her faith could have been a detriment, and provided what she could to those around her. She achieved happiness with her successes and the knowledge that her actions had meaning.

The tale of two wolves, of which there are many versions that hearken back into our ancient past and the duality of Man; of good & evil, and the struggle within each of us is an excellent story that can provoke thought and reflection - as a good parable should.

We all serve. I have stated this for years; I cannot recall from where or whence I derived it as a concept and fundamental component on my outlook for life. It could have been early days in the church, or one of the many books I read. Possibly during my childhood illness, or listening to my RN mother talking about some of the souls that she had attended. I know with certainty that I can recall using it in discussion as far back as post-secondary, where I worked in fast food, landscaping, and health care. The question often comes back to who do we serve, and why.

Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs is a good representation of Man’s basic needs, so obviously a case for self-advocation and self care can be made, must be made. But, after that, once you can look beyond yourself, where do you go? What do you do? I think the case can be made for a little bit of both.

One project that I do, and work on frequently, to create my own happiness is letter writing. It offers me the opportunity to self-gratify by doing activities that I enjoy, with activities that improve the lives of others and foster communities - hopefully. That project is letter writing.

Using monarch/executive sized stationery with fountain pens and wax seals I can create a gift that transcends the moment. It isn’t super expensive, not the way that I do it, but it isn’t free. To start with are the materials: fountain pen, ink, envelope, paper, wax, stamp, return address, postage, and my vein opened (thank-you Ernest Hemingway).

Envelopes are easy; a local multinational sells bulk envelops for monarch/executive size letters (3.875” x 7.5”) in a lovely yellowy-ish colour. However, actual paper is expensive in that size (7.250” x 10.500”), let alone a fountain pen friendly paper given the water based nature of the ink. I have to cut letterhead down to size.

To do this I need a good pair of scissors (though I have used a paper cutter too). The line doesn’t HAVE to be straight, but the letter does have to fit into the envelope. Currently I am using a Southworth Ivory Parchment product that has been very agreeable. You can use some craft scissors if you care for even more flair. I just use a good pair of straight scissors mostly, and connect the lines between the dot’s I made on the back of the page. Cut inside the line!

My fountain pen collection is closer to 70 according to the spreadsheet that I have; ranging from $2 to $200 at purchase. Vintage, modern, made in Canada, made in Japan, and made in many countries in between (the long way 'round). It is a source of pride and a source of joy in some ways as many were gifts, or bought to memorialize an accomplishment. Sometimes I select a pen I like to write with (in my current rotation) and sometimes I select a pen that may mean something to my reader. E.g., a pen that they bought for me. Pens are filled with inks that seem appropriate from my collection that match the pen (colour coordinated). I am not big on blue. I blame Bic.

My partner made custom labels to use for the return address, with a lovely bit of decoration on them, on a transparent material so that I don’t have to worry about colour matching to envelopes. I can be a bit particular.

Stamps are cheapest at Costco for national use (buy permanent so changes in postage don't matter), and I buy international postage at one of the local post offices. I can buy US stamps, but for my friends in Spain, UK, Mexico, and others I just have the post office apply at the time.

I use J. Herbin supple wax, always in copper, with an off the shelf letter stamp. The supple wax is key to not upsetting the post services with a wax that breaks in their machines, and risks breaking them. Return addresses make sure that they know where you find you.

I know that my letters are appreciated by (mostly) all who receive them. From Kirk Douglas to my baby sister-in-law, to my partner with the notes that we exchange and the letters we write one-another. There is joy in finding a letter in the post. There is joy in seeing the art, and thought, which embody most letters. In knowing that someone went to such effort to communicate with you. It rarely feels perfunctory.

My Nana, for example, never bought a computer or smart phone. Her hearing was poor and she found phone calls to be challenging at times. Letters were something she looked forward to. Something that she could share with her family, friends, and peers. Even in her final days, when arthritis had turned her hands into a painful mockery of all that she had done and accomplished in her 92 years, letters brought her joy.

I often write my letters on the desk I received from Nana’s estate. It has a few knick-knacks from her life in it, and the last letter I wrote to her - unopened. My Uncle says that Nana intended to go to bed early, and would read it the next day. I like to think that it made her passing that much easier; perhaps that is more for me than for her.

I do not think I shall ever open that letter. The words I wrote do not really matter. I do not think that the symbolism of that letter, and all that it means, will ever diminish the happiness that I feel knowing that I have created crafts, projects, which bring so many things to the recipient. And, to me, the giver.

In the words of many in my fountain pen community, “write on!”

**There are several pen pal forums and snail mail forums which you can use to reach out to strangers across the world. The military, nursing homes, and others allow you to reach out to those who are far from home or all alone. But, I implore you, consider writing to your Nana first.

<<END SONG: JOE COCKER - THE LETTER>>