The Heartbeat of Humanity
Every festive season, I watch my wife retrieve greeting cards from our mailbox. Birthdays, New Year’s, Christmas — each occasion brings a small stack of handwritten notes, carefully chosen and sent by friends. As someone who embraces the convenience of technology, I’ve often wondered: in an age where a text or email can convey the same sentiment in seconds, what makes the arrival of a physical greeting card so special and to be yearned for?
As each year passes, the excitement of receiving a card seems to catch on to me. Besides wondering who the senders are and enjoying the lovely card designs, I’ve come to realise that perhaps, the magic of a greeting card lies in its ability to let us experience someone else’s thoughts, materialised into something tangible. While digital greetings offer speed and convenience, a physical card delivers an irreplaceable sensory and emotional experience. It is not merely a message but an object — a vessel that carries the weight of thoughts and the physicality of connection. I’ve attributed this sense of connection with the very act of writing.
Writing is the art of turning fleeting, ambiguous thoughts into something tangible. It flows from your mind to your hand and emerges as words. Writing gives form to emotions and ideas that might otherwise slip away, anchoring them in words that can be seen, touched and shared. The physical act of writing feels different from typing, as it requires attention to avoid mistakes. While typing allows one to backspace, writing — even with the option of using correction fluid, leaves a visible mark when errors are made. In a way, writing is meant to leave marks — in the form of words or corrections. These marks are signs of intentionality, evidence that someone thought carefully and deliberately about what they wanted to convey.
A greeting card extends this intentionality by becoming the boundary of your thoughts. The physicality of the card creates a sense of space — a reflection of the volume of your thoughts. A small notecard invites brevity, while a spacious one encourages elaboration. One must consider what they want to convey before deciding on a particular card size. A card’s defined limits inspire focus, urging the writer to distill emotions into their purest form. On the other hand, digital platforms bear fewer of such constraints; the space expands as one inputs their thoughts. Here, one can either write endlessly due to the limitless space or, conversely, offer only a brief reply as the absence of space at times does not encourage further elaboration.
Intentionality creates the will to connect. Although we could occasionally connect with someone through a text greeting, the entire process of wanting to send someone a card, then buying the card, thinking of what to write, and finally mailing it creates a form of distance. Unlike the instantaneous nature of a text message, the inconvenience of sending a greeting card emphasises the distance between two individuals — a distance that makes our hearts grow fonder. Exchanging greeting cards reminds us that connection thrives in slowness, in the weight of paper, and in the deliberate act of saying, 'You matter enough to send more than just a text.' In a world of pixels, they remain a heartbeat of humanity.
Text and images by ANATOMY OF THINGS