I don’t really know why, but the minute I’d been taught to produce joined-up writing, I immediately went back to forming my letters unjoined-up. That doesn’t, however, prevent me nostalgically recall the days of ink wells, scratchy nibs, and a style of penmanship called ‘Marion Richardson’.
What prompted this memory? It was simply because I was visualising the word ‘connect’ in my mind, in joined up writing. Do this with me if you will, and imagine the one single stroke of the pen that threads those seven letters together. Appropriate, isn’t it, to see the word ‘connect’ itself connected?
Maybe you can also envisage a line which weaves itself through your day, tying together your connections with others?
On my better days there may be many of these, but on less-good ones the connections are likely to be far fewer and farther between.
It is of course a chicken and egg situation. Which comes first? Do I have fewer connections because I don’t feel so great? Or do I not feel so great because I have fewer connections? To be honest it’s probably a bit of both, and maybe you too understand this feeling.
Contact with other people is a fine way to add to your day, so as you go through the next one, why not imagine that line flowing sinuously from one human to another?
(Not very Marion Richardson, but you catch my drift.)