For as long as I can remember I’ve been collecting postcards.
Postcards with random sayings, weird people, photos of old architecture, or simply beautiful imagery all printed on anything from a thin piece of wood to flimsy cardstock. When restaurants bring the bill secured to a postcard by paperclip, I take the postcard home. If I’m traveling, no matter where I go I always make a point to purchase a postcard and bring it with me.
My love for postcards has grown so much over the years that my friends have picked up on it and occasionally write to me. There is absolutely nothing more lovely to me than checking my small mailbox to find a personal, hand-written postcard.
I find it easiest to write my thoughts down on paper. Whether that be in a notebook, a post-it note, a postcard, or even here. My mind is a bit all over the place, and when it comes to articulating something meaningful or expressing my thanks towards a particular situation writing is the easiest and most organized way for me to eloquently get these feelings across.
Over the years, I have collected hundreds of postcards. Most of which I don’t own anymore and have made a point to send. But, I didn’t start sending my postcards to people until about four years ago.
I was getting ready for an event in my apartment in Knoxville, Tennessee about a year after I had graduated college, and the stack of postcards quickly caught my eye as I was rummaging around the apartment. These postcards I had obtained over the years had collected an obscene amount of dust in the corner of my window sill.
As I drove to the event, I thought to myself, “what purpose did collecting these postcards have if they were just collecting dust? Why wouldn’t I share something that brings me joy with another person?” And so, on that day I decided I would jot down the address when I got to the party, and once I left I would write a brief note and drop it at the post office on my way home.
Today, I believe there is a certain value in sharing these postcards that I love with the people I care for. It’s not really about what artwork or design is on the postcard, or why I find that specific card particularly beautiful, but more about what I write and the intention behind why I do it that creates value.
The value is the small, significant impact I make through taking the additional time it takes to handwrite something intentional to the reader. It’s physically showing that I’ve put in the effort to do something more personal, more authentic to who I am. In a way, it makes me feel accomplished and almost as if I’m giving a tiny piece of myself to the reader.
And if someone sits down to read a postcard that I’ve written feels even a fraction of the joy that I feel when I find one of those great postcards at a store or restaurant, then that’s a bonus.
An important thing to bring up though is if you’re doing something for the need of reassurance or attention, you’re not doing it for yourself. You’re doing it because of your codependent need for affirmation, which my friend can also be defined as a form of neediness. Don’t do something because you’re looking for approval. Do it because it aligns with the core values that make up who you are and also pushes you closer to your goals.
By going that extra mile you’re increasing the value of what you do. You’re adding more steam to the engine and proving not to others, but to yourself that you take it and what you do seriously.
Whether that be taking the time to write something by hand, pushing yourself harder at the gym, challenging yourself to work a little bit smarter on a new project, or taking a small step towards starting that idea you’ve been putting off… It all adds up.
Now, why does any of this have anything to do with paperclips?
If you haven’t ever heard of the One Red Paperclip journey with Kyle MacDonald, I recommend setting aside a few minutes of your time to check out his Ted Talk here. In this experiment, MacDonald was able to trade a small red paperclip for a house through a series of exchanges of equal or greater value.
When the project was finished, people came up to him and said, “wow you traded away that paperclip, but don’t you wish you had it back now? That’s got to be worth a lot of money.”
He says back to them, “It wasn’t about the paperclip. It’s not about having it, or selling it, or what it’s worth. If I hadn’t traded away that red paper clip, I’d just be a guy sitting there at his desk holding a paperclip wondering what would happen if I did something with that paperclip.”
You see, MacDonald took the plunge to actually start somewhere. He took a leap of faith to try and create something out of almost nothing.
He took that paperclip and created value, and I don’t just mean fiscally. Sure, through his journey of exchanging random items he eventually ended up with a house, but the true value behind what he accomplished was through the impact of his experiences and the people he met along the way. The connections he built through his giant network of trading introduced him to so many obscure and powerful people, and these relationships he cultivated likely still benefit him to this day.
He took that extra step and decided to see what would happen when he offered to trade a single red paperclip for anything anyone would be willing to offer. The idea seems silly and small, but the mindset is what I encourage you to take away from this story.
You create value through challenging yourself to put in that extra effort.
I don’t write postcards to please the people I’m writing to, or to portray a “look what I did for you and how great this is” perception. I actively make a choice to write postcards because I want to put that additional effort into the little things I do. While this is small, it’s a reflection of the character I want to continue to build in myself and the woman I want to be.
Recognize what the impact can be on your own journey when you take the time to give something just a little bit more.
So go write that postcard, or start that project you’ve been putting off. No matter what the outcome is, it’s always worth it to try something even if it fails or isn’t recognized. The objective is to do it because it contributes to championing your identity-based goals in life and being more authentic to yourself. And that my friend is the most rewarding part.
And, if you're a bit curious about identity-based goals, I encourage you to read about my post Beautiful Intentions here.
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