It all started with a podcast. And a dare.
“This exercise can boost your mood — not just for the rest of the day but the entire month. But not many people actually do it. In fact, I bet only a handful of your listeners are brave enough to do it.”
Game on. I love a good challenge, I’ve already binged everything on Netflix, and I could most definitely use some sort of magical mood booster.
Psychologist Martin Seligman goes on to explain the exercise on the Happiness Lab podcast. It’s called the gratitude visit.
It works like this. Think of someone you care about but have never really thanked. Then sit down and write that person a genuine, heartfelt letter. Explain why they’ve had such an impact on your life. And thank them. When you’re done, send it to them. For real, by snail mail. Or better yet, meet up and read it to them in person (when it’s safe to do so).
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Sounds great, right? Seligman says most people who try this won’t actually commit to sending the letter, because we worry it will be cheesy or uncomfortable or awkward.
The reality is that these letters are usually met with a lot of surprise. A lot of gratitude. And just a massive sense of joy on both sides. So big, in fact, that science claims it can boost our moods for an entire month.
Well, blame it on quarantine, but I was ready for some joy. So I decided to write to my very first boss. He took a chance and welcomed me for multiple internships during college. That’s where I learned everything I know about being in a newsroom. He made some calls and helped me get my first real producing job after graduation. Once I got my experience there, he eventually called and offered me a gig at my first big TV market. Then my life flipped upside down, and he supported my decision to quit and move home to be with my dying mother.
During that time, he and his colleagues sent care packages, flowers, cookies, and letters, which made that painful chapter somewhat bearable. When I was ready to move forward, he once again made some calls and opened the door to an interview in San Francisco. Not just a new job, but a new life. He helped shape my entire career — and even my life outside of the newsroom.
How in the world had I never actually thanked this man? So I sat down and did just that. I wrote an email (blame it on my generation) and thanked him. For everything.
It poured out like a diary entry years in the making. There were laughs and there were tears.
Then I sat at my computer and stared. I read it over and over and then reread it some more. Just as Seligman predicted, I debated actually sending it.
I went back and forth. And since I couldn’t actually meet up and read it to him aloud—he’s in Denver, I’m in San Francisco—I finally took the plunge and hit send.
Then I shut my computer and tried to move on with life. I tried to persuade myself that it wasn’t creepy or awkward. I reassured myself that if he didn’t respond — although surely he would, right? — that it’d be fine. I’d just find a way to avoid all future in-person encounters at all costs. NBD.
Just as my anxiety was about to get the best of me, he responded. Thanking me for thanking him. Commenting on how much joy it brought him unexpectedly. And noting that I had officially made a grown man cry.
Well, I can’t tell you if that joy lasted a month for both of us, but I can tell you that I was on cloud nine. It felt good. I was hooked. How many other people have made an impact on my life whom I never told?
I made a list. There was my best friend who had been there through thick and thin. My family friend who had become like a second mother. There was that one co-worker who invited me to coffee when I was new in town. And let’s not forget my roommates who somehow put up with me during shutdown…
The list grew longer and longer.
I was excited and ready to put pen to paper. No more emails. This time, it’d be for real.
But then it hit. A modern-day dilemma worthy of all the millennial jokes.
I had no stationery. Zero envelopes. And let’s be real—stamps? Please.
I was searching the house in a frenzy when my roommate mentioned Punkpost, an app that does it for you. And makes it cute!
All you have to do is select from dozens of cards, type in your message, decide if you want to add confetti (always) and/or a photo, and select the type of handwriting you’d like—anything from fun block letters to formal cursive. Based on your selections, the app then pairs you with an artist who writes, decorates, and mails the card for you, stamps and all. (I promise I’m not sponsored.)
This practice has honestly changed my life. Dramatic, I know. But it’s true.And after a little digging, I realized the app is based in San Francisco (of course) but supports artists all across the country (swoon).
I can’t tell you how much joy this has brought during quarantine—for me and the people opening their mailbox full of confetti.
My best friend says it feels like Christmas morning. She now asks (weekly, I might add), “Why haven’t you written to me again?” I usually have to remind her that we’ve said all we needed to say in our daily texts.
Now it’s your turn to write. Are you up for the challenge?
