“I’m so disappointed,” the letter began….
The other week, after a presentation on Facilitated Reflective Writing, Bev approached me to look at her draft letter to her kids.
It began with those three damning words – an honest purge on the part of the writer, but not so pleasant for the reader. “Where are you going with this Bev?” I asked gently, “What’s your ultimate intention?”
“Well I want to re-unite the family. We’re so disconnected,” she said. I proceeded to cull her next 4 paragraphs which were essentially a rant and justification of her position.
I applaud the idea of writing your own legacy letter, but have 3 observations of what to avoid if you ever want your letter to be read.
Postscript is a writing service which helps you shape and share your legacy in a letter. Sometimes these letters are given, other times kept, lived into and stored for a later time.
Rule #1: Leave Your Baggage at the Door
One common mistake I see when people write their own legacy letters, is that they let their emotions get in the way of their intentions. They feel it would be inauthentic not to discuss the “elephant in the room,” the discontent and troubles of the past.
The power of a facilitated reflection is that the writer is separate from the story teller and thereby able to detach from historical emotion. At Postscript we question, listen and write – capturing your words and intentions, but leaving your baggage at the door.
Rule #2: Keep The Light On
The other mistake I commonly see in legacy letters, is that they can be heavily reflective. I recall one man telling me how he writes his legacy letters each year alone in his car, crying buckets in the process. He describes the event as lonely and heart breaking, as he contemplates his family living without him.
Legacy letters might live beyond you, but they’re rarely written at the end of life, more likely at a checkpoint along the way. The intention is that you might check in with a Postscript facilitator every 10 years or significant milestone, thereby having a reflective testimony of your life’s evolution.
Importantly, our process reflects back and focuses forward, forecasting into future ideas, hopes and intentions. “I feel so much lighter,” a recent Postscript participant said, “this is so much cheaper than therapy,” he laughed.
Rule #3: Keep It Short
The third common mistake is in the editing, or lack of it.
Often when we write our own letter, we’re too close to the story to delete any of it. “I am up to page 48 of my memoir,” Kate told me proudly. “Do you really think my family will read it?” I hoped this was a rhetorical question as the research suggests they won’t.
A recent Microsoft Study showed that the human concentration span is now only 8 seconds. So unless your writing is punchy and relevant, it won’t be read. If you want your family to read and retain your insights, keep them relevant and to the point. Our team of writers come from the frame, “what would your great-great-granddaughter or niece want to know about you?” This is a helpful lens through which to filter your content.
I applaud the legacy of investing in others so that they can take your input and do something wonderful with it. Insight is left like breadcrumbs to follow – if they need a way home, to be reminded who they are, who they belong to, or where they come from.
As Amy Kate Krestner says in her song Footprints, “you may follow my footprints, but you don’t have to fill my shoes, it’s just a path for you to follow if you so choose. You may take the road less travelled, yeah I’d probably do that too. But if you’re lost, or feeling broken, follow the footprints I left for you.”
0 Comments