Like anyone else, I have a tendency to form an opinion and then let that opinion shape my perceptions. Of course, this is wrong; I should not let my opinions do the work for me, but should try hard to listen to my experiences and let them shape my opinions.
Opinions are a useful and necessary tool for getting a handle on this messy busy world, but aren’t as useful–and are often harmful–if they do not fit the actual world. A flat head screwdriver isn’t the best tool to unscrew a Phillips head screw; a shot-gun is even worse.
That seems hyperbole (Overstated Hyperbolic?!? From Dr Bear?!? I am shocked! Shocked!), but I am certain that each of us have encountered people who use opinions like shotguns, or even heavier artillery.

Experience is our teacher–although not always our friend–and we much be open and pay attention to her.

…But I digress, in my usual New Madrid river flow kind of way.

I have written in the past about the importance of the hand-written note,  and have spoken disdainfully about electronic communication.
While I still believe in the importance of a hand-written note, in the past few weeks I have had to re-think my view. You see, I received two lovely notes electronically, and I had to admit that they were wonderfully human, and gracious, and authentic. The writers each took time to personalize them, and each of them carried the personality of the person writing, as well as a bit of the conversations we had shared in the past. They showed a respect for me–treating me with kindness and dignity, and even some empathy.

The odd thing about them was, they were both negative responses to requests.
One was a letter from a prospective employer for whom I had made the short list, and with whom I had interviewed; it told me they would be going with another candidate, although they were very affirming of me and my credentials, and were very open about the reasons they had decided to go with the other candidate.
One was a negative response from an RSVP, but it was punctual, gracious, and very kind.

Both were so much more than a computer generated “Thank you for your interest, but…” e-mail, or a dashed off “Sorry, something came up, but let’s do coffee sometime” text.  Each was so much better than the growing tendency not to answer at all. Each of the rejection notes treated me with dignity, as a human with feelings. Each note communicated, was specific, but also was clear and firm, as adult to adult.
Both of the notes were written by human beings.

I guess that is more important than paper or pens and ink or stamps; when we communicate with other human beings, what we say should be able to pass the Turing Test–it should be clear that it is being said by a human being.

Even better, what we write or say might have some basic empathy, so that it is clear that it was said by a real Mensch.