One of the few artifacts of my youth has been on my mind this week. I have been internally debating taking the time to seek out and retrieve a historical document stored in one of several places, a copy of a letter I sent to a handful of select friends back in the late '80s.
Last night, I received an email from a friend and mentor who received that letter decades ago. I felt it was enough of a sign of a purpose around my desire to find that letter. After Christmas activities with the family this morning, I went into storage and started looking for it. I found it in the third and last place I looked. I wrote and printed out several copies of this in March of 1989, signing and mailing them to the recipients, as this was back before email was "a thing." Today, I OCR'd the original, cleaned up grammatical and spelling errors, and I'm reposting it here because this remains true to this day.
It's revealing to reflect on this letter 33+ years down the road as I look at many of my posts, my "living wake "aspirations, and my obsessions with embracing mortality in order to live more consciously. I still struggle with many characteristics I strived to resolve three decades ago. A short fuse, being easily frustrated, maintaining my ideal perspective. These are all things I have yet to master. Perhaps no one ever does. Maybe even the most enlightened individual is simply bluffing. But revisiting this now validates my long-held aspirations and a core value system.
I have met and been further influenced positively by many more friends and colleagues since 1989. And their impacts are essential to recognize. I suspect and hope I've made enough efforts during the duration of these friendships to make their value known, but it can not be said enough. What I said in this letter in my late 20s remains true today. The quality of the character of my friends has influenced and inspired me to be a better person.
None of us know what amount of time we have left, and "there's no time like the present" to reinforce the value others play in our lives. And as I've become fond of saying this past year, the "present" moment is a gift.
Here, then, is that letter, shared in the spirit of recognizing how each person's life touches so many others.
If you know me well, you may know that "It's A Wonderful Life," the Frank Capra classic, is one of my favorite movies. The story is about George Bailey, a man who, when his world seems to be crumbling around him, is given a chance to see how the lives of those he knows would be if he were never born and the value he has been to them. Now we all know, especially in the times we are living in, that our lives won't often emulate a Frank Capra film, but what a glorious gift it would be to know the value you have been to someone, to see that your presence in their life has made a meaningful difference.
Studies in sociology show that the makeup of one's personality traits are basically those we have seen and learned from others. The virtue we appreciate, we to some extent appropriate". This is saying that we, as people, are a conglomerate of everything we have experienced since birth. The world around us shapes us. What we are exposed to environmentally directly affects who we are and who we become. People that have passed thru my life, and those that I have watched from a distance, have all contributed to who I am; but there is only a handful whose contributions are ones I so dearly value. Some of these people are still around me, some have gone their own directions, and some are only beginning to develop into strong relationships, but they all mean the world to me. Even those relationships that ended turbulently are valued because they are often ones that I have learned the most from. I couldn't begin to place a value on these precious people; they have given me something no one else could come close to giving me. They have given me a piece of themselves. They have helped me learn values and adventure, helped me find potential and direction, and encouraged my growth with their inspiration and support. I have laughed with these people, cried with these people, and learned with and from these people. I value these people deeply, yet I have seldom expressed my love and appreciation for their contribution to my life until now. If you are reading this, it is because you are one of them.
The last two years of my life have been ones of extreme personal growth and change, and I feel I have come a great distance of a road with no end. Yet, personal expression in today's society is often awkward and uncomfortable, especially for men. We are asked to mask our feelings and emotions behind macho images. As time passes, it seems more acceptable than a man might cry during a sad movie or be elated with joy when a long-departed friend walks into an airport terminal, but the acceptance is still slow. You won't often see the man in the movie not panic and sniffle away the signs of tears as the house light rise. A hug between friends at the airport, if allowed to last more than a moment or two or not be accompanied by a patting on the back and a masculine punch to the arm, will often be questioned by a home-phobic society. There is equal discomfort when dealing with the opposite sex when showing emotions. Many people panic when the wall around them is too closely approached and quickly retreat behind a joke or a quick subject change. I should know because I all too often do so myself. As I expand my awareness and understanding of my emotions and desires in life, I find that many of my reactions are programmed ones learned thru our society, and a great deal of the time are far from how I honestly feel. They are more habitual reactions than honest expressions, like discomfort when approached by unfamiliar people or avoiding eye contact when I think someone is getting too close. What exactly is it that we tend to run from? I believe it to be the risk of being emotionally honest and exposed, therefore vulnerable, is very intimidating. But one of the most valuable lessons I have come to learn is that life lived safely is a life lived routinely and that the risks in emotional honesty are more from our imaginations than from reality, a reaction we are taught. As I make the decision to be the me I want to be, I find I am frequently running against the current. Like a salmon swimming upstream, there is incredible pressure to follow the direction of my environment; and as the salmon, I instinctively know that my survival relies upon my diligence and determination.
When my parents divorced in 1979, the communication between myself and my Father was severely damaged. He had moved to Frankfurt, Germany, and our relationship was turbulent at the time. We had not spoken for a couple of years, when) began to question many of the events and directions I had allowed my life to take and where I wanted to go. One philosophy I acquired was, "If it's not something I'll regret on my death bed, it's not worth getting upset about now." Although I still have yet to master this outlook fully, It puts a great deal of things into perspective for me. When it came to my distant relationship with my Father, I knew it would matter a great deal. When I realized this, I sat down and penned a letter to him to tell him that I did love him and wanted us to restore the contact we had lost. I had come to realize that the Father he had been to me was the best Father he knew to be and that I had to look at it as how much he had to give, not how much I expected. Had I never come to this realization, had I never taken the time to reestablish a relationship with him, had I not reached a point that I could comfortably express my love for him and the value he had in my life, his recent death would have been met with emotional devastation, filled with "I never got a chance too..." and "If only I had said...".
We always have a chance to say the things we feel and to express love and appreciation, yet we may not always be conscious that our opportunities are limited. For this reason, I want to take this moment to let you know that you have made a valuable contribution to my life and that you do matter. I don't do this for your reply, so don't feel you should. Nothing done because 'you should' is worth having done. Just know that this comes from the heart, and the next time you catch a rerun of "It's a Wonderful Life," take a moment to recall the treasures given to you by so many and to value how important you are to those whose lives you touch.
Thanks for your time,
Sincerely,
Geoff Mitchell
March 1989
