Can we bring back pen pals in 2026?
And other questions I'm asking myself at the start of the year. Also the 365-day project shenanigans I've started on the internet.
I have a confession pulled from the deep recesses of my online being.
I don’t like normal email.
Shocking for someone who literally sends email for a living.
But most email is out to sell me something I don’t need and turns my inbox into an unwitting avalanche zone that is only eclipsed by my craft closet.
Which is why I’ve been reimagining our space here.
I want to live this year more fully beyond my screens… and help you do likewise.
Head lost between poetry pages. Painting everything that stays still long enough for me to decorate it. Installing beauty in hidden places. Visible mending. Whimsical embroidery. Turning this 90’s subdivision cookie cutter model house into the cottage of my dreams.
Writing my book in coffee shops.
Antiquing the tiny towns the tourists (and many locals) don’t even know exist.
Finally visiting the ancient forest to my south and the blue-springed lagoons to my west.
Finding a way to tie my crutches to my tube and float down the winding river of my childhood.
In-person craft escapes with friends.
Sending you posts and experience that feel like postcards written with hope and letters filled with beauty, whimsy, and creativity.
Also… Somehow in the morass of my December, I decided I really just want all of us to be pen pals. Cool? You in?
As much as I would love to start a paper subscription, I’m literally the worst mailer of things you have ever met.
Knowing my limits, I have settled on imagining how we can make THIS space feel snail mail worthy.
But pen pals also mean…
I’m just going to put it out there…
I want you to know you are welcome to write me.
Hit reply. Tell me about where wonder showed up for you this week. Say hi in the comments. Share a struggle you are facing. Tell me the worst Dad joke you know.
Sometimes, I forget that replying to people on the internet can be really intimidating. Especially if that person has numbers behind their name.
Spoiler. It really is just me here at present.
And here you are loved.
It is a JOY to hear from you. I read every email. I save them. And I reply to as many as I can.
The kettle is always on.
I’m on a mission this year to fill all my online and physical spaces with whimsy and wonder and continue building the kindest corner on the internet.
Because we need it.
What if wonder is the thing we need most?
There’s a lot happening in the world that is very serious right now. Heartbreaking. Maddening even.
I stay informed and read widely. Because I believe to my toes and back each of us has a part to play in loving our neighbors and telling ourselves and one another a better story.
It really hit me today. I was driving to my acupuncture appointment across town, listening to the radio discuss trauma and current affairs.
How, for many, this last decade has left us hypervigilant and on edge.
Which had me reflecting… as one does while driving.
Your nervous system is programmed with one job. Keep you safe.
You see a bear, and all rational thinking goes into lockdown as blood gets redirected to survival, evade-the-bear mode.
Your prefrontal cortex diverts resources to your amygdala (responsible for fear and emotional processing), and your reserves are concentrated to help you run or fight or do whatever else that gets you away from the danger.
That breaking news story dinging on your phone.
The doomscroll loop that is monetized and manipulated to keep you scrolling.
The constant unpredictability and sense of turmoil.
The grocery store prices and sky-high healthcare premiums.
Meet. The. Bear.
When we live in defensive mode 24/7 to protect ourselves (whether we realize it or not), it is almost impossible to have thoughtful, respectful conversations about vital issues for the well-being of our communities and country.
We fracture and divide ourselves in ways that make us feel seen and safe.
I moved a world away and spent 7 years serving and helping in an actual war zone in Africa. I’ve seen what division looks like when a nation has been through collective trauma for generations.
Because of that, I’ve struggled a lot the last year, feeling like I wasn’t doing enough here. My health kept me parked on the sidelines far more than I would have preferred.
Suffice it to say, I have opinions and deeply held down-to-my-toes beliefs.
I’ll sum them up as such:
Love your neighbor as yourself. Love your enemies. Live inside a love that is so expansive you can’t find anywhere in your life that love is not present. It’s a love that is willing to flip tables and bandage wounds.
Listening to the news conversation in my car this morning, solidified for me how much our world needs spaces like this one.
We desperately need places where we can find resources that help our nervous systems embrace calm, kindness, and connection even in the middle of seasons marked by chaos and confusion. Maybe most especially then.
So here we are…
You, me, and the most glorious clickety lavender mechanical keyboard that ever did clack.
Building a space where we all can be more creative, feel less alone, and find wonder every day.
I’m so grateful for your trust, your support, and your presence. Here’s to a 2026 rooted and grounded in wonder.
All my love,
Because apparently I can’t not have 23.7 plates spinning, I started a little adjacent project called My Year of Making, where I send 7 tiny, whimsical creative actions you can take each week to lean into wonder, care for your nervous system, and make the world a little bit brighter.
It’s totally free. And already so much fun. There are over 2000 of us signed up. You can jump in at any time.
If you’re interested, you can find additional information here ➡️ My Year of Making
I’ll share some of my stories here when relevant, but MYOM lives mostly in its own dedicated email space and on Instagram as a fun, unique way to build more connections.
I had a pen pal in junior high from Japan. I loved it. I wrote so many letters in my childhood and as a young adult. Most phone calls were long distance. Letters and Thank-you notes, birthday cards were a must .
Funny you bring this up! A half century and more ago I had a couple pen-pals who lived across the ocean. I loved it!
We'd swapped letters every three or four weeks sharing basic news and thoughts and ideas of a young adult.
Here on Substack there are a couple people that I've nurtured an email pen-pal relationship with. One across the country, one across many oceans, one across the northern border. It's an absolute blast!!
I highly recommend it!!
Just FYI.