The Book of Kells at the Trinity College Library, Dublin, Ireland
The Washington Post just shared an interesting article on robots creating handwritten cards to give recipients that personal touch. Hahaha! How ironic. Here's the link to the article: The art of imperfection: People are turning to robots to write their 'handwritten' cards
Authenticity (a theme present throughout my newsletters) and handwriting may have much in common.
I've been curious about how handwriting reveals the heart of the writer. In fact, I bought several books on handwriting analysis and have consciously tried to keep my own handwriting legible—a gesture at trying to be my authentic self throughout my medical training. I'm happy to report that just the other day a patient joked about my handwriting on his prescription being too good for a doctor.
Read on for my handwritten stories and thoughts on handwriting!
A Handwritten Note For You . . . On Handwriting
Celebrating my 100th Issue at the close of 2019
Walking together into the new decade
In 2003, I felt very upset and afraid when I called Dr. H, a forensic psychiatrist and past mentor, about a patient's ex-husband who was trying to intimidate me with all sorts of legal threats. During our conversation, he advised that I should cultivate illegible handwriting to hide the contents of my progress notes.
It struck me as a disingenuous and cowardly thing to do and my response to him was,
Writing legibly became an even more conscious choice after that conversation. As it turned out, the patient's ex-husband never did anything despite all of his threats.
Writing illegibly also seems to be a badge of honor among some doctors. As if, if you're a real doctor, your handwriting should be awful. There's something about it that stinks of narcissism to me. For, illegible handwriting is inconsiderate of those who have to decipher it and, in the case of a patient's prescription, an even more horrifying disregard of one's responsibility to communicate clearly and easily.
When I read the article on robots creating "handwritten" cards to give it a "personal touch," I thought of those who hire someone else to do their online dating for them and then just appear for their first date. For the sake of convenience, of course. There's something very heartless and unconscionable about such choices.
A robot written card does NOT give a card a personal touch. It gives it a cold, heartless, metallic touch. And that touch becomes theirtouch. It becomes a reflection of who they are because they made that choice. Using someone else to do all the hard work of online dating and then showing up for a date is NOT a matter of convenience; it is a matter of hypocrisy and a true lack of connection.
These stories and examples are like a photographic negative where the light is more easily discerned because of the darkness. Life is like that. Through the Washington Post article, we come to realize the value of our imperfect handwriting because imperfection is also wonderfully unique.
Soon, we shall be turning the page on another decade.
Thank you for reading this today. May you experience a wonderful holiday season and joyfully embrace the pristine possibilities of the new year!