I’m a Facebook junkie. I post. I read recent posts. I send messages, upload photos, visit walls. I like how I can keep up-to-date with my nieces or college friends, logging in at any time of day, even at the insomnia hour between 3:00 and 4:00 am. Something yogic exists in the in-the-moment aspect of reading and writing FB posts. I feel I’ve been invited to share where someone goes, what his or her current status is, what’s going on. A letter from my niece, Kate, however, is shedding light on my view. A letter, yes. The kind written by hand with a pen on sheets of paper, folded into an envelope that carries a stamp and gets delivered by actual post to a real mailbox with a hinged metal door. The difference between posts and the letter I received by post, besides the tactile feel of holding the words […]