Let me start with a memory that probably still haunts the minds of 24 people from Class G of a certain respected high school. Professor Danielska would walk into the room and announce that today we were starting a new literary era. This was our cue to open our notebooks, grab our pens, and brace ourselves: she would dictate for 45 minutes straight, and we would write for 45 minutes straight. Pages upon pages. No breaks to stretch our hands. And it had to be neat – nothing less would do. Back then, it was tedious. Now…

My husband was in that same class. If someone told him today that he had to sit down and write by hand for three quarters of an hour, he’d probably run away screaming. These days, he hardly writes anything by hand, except for short lists – things to do or buy. Me? I write by hand a lot, certainly well above the national average, but I admit I do it very consciously, by choice. I could probably type some of what I write into Word, but I don’t want to. Handwriting has its perks, and I quietly hope it’s one of those daily habits that will keep my brain – and my body, for that matter – from aging too quickly.

If you feel like the world is spinning too fast, catching your breath doesn’t have to mean booking a pottery workshop (though you certainly can). Sometimes, all you need is a piece of paper and a pen.

How about you? This isn’t a question meant to trigger guilt if you don’t write, or a sense of superiority if you happen to write with a fountain pen. Ooh-la-la! But I’ll tell you a little secret: writing with a fountain pen has its surprising charms. Have you ever seen the world’s most beautiful inks in shades of lavender or fuchsia? No? Well, I have them, and they are brilliant; even a grocery list written in them becomes a joyful work of calligraphic art (even if it’s just fuchsia-coloured chicken scratch). So, do you write or not? Is it just shopping lists, or do you fill entire pages with notes or a diary? You can answer that to yourselves in private while we move on to proving that although writing is no longer common, it has undeniable benefits.

I’ll start with something I consider a sign of our times: the ability to write by hand is systematically vanishing. Scientists use a somewhat ironic term for it – “the era of the end of the pen.” People also talk about the “Gen Z problem,” as up to 40% of young people cannot write by hand, or at least not fluently. I’d personally go a step further – I don’t think it’s just Gen Z. Older generations are also forgetting how to hold a pen. We prefer clacking away on a keyboard. And that’s natural because a word processor gives us more options: correcting, editing, reordering, or deleting things we ultimately don’t want in the text. Besides, typing something takes minutes, while writing it by hand takes a quarter of an hour or more. I would never urge anyone to handwrite texts that require heavy editing. I don’t do it myself. This post is being created electronically at a speed I could never achieve by hand, and I’ve already swapped paragraphs twice and words in sentences a dozen times. There’s no point in being offended by modern technology – let’s use it to our heart’s content, but…

But handwriting has its advantages and a positive impact on slowing down our aging process.

First, and fairly obviously: handwriting is excellent for the brain. A 2024 study compared two groups – those writing by hand and those typing – and confirmed that handwriting activates three times more neural pathways. The more paths between neurons we use and activate, the better for us and our ability to associate, think, and so on.

In 2021, the University of Tokyo organized a study that added another benefit: if we take handwritten notes, our brain remembers information better, processes it more deeply, and finds more connections and dependencies. Plus, if the notes concern abstract concepts, we understand those concepts better. So, if we need to understand something strange or difficult, or think something through, it’s better to do it “in writing” – specifically, in “handwriting.” Similarly, if you have a creative task or a problem to solve, writing on paper stimulates the brain, and thus your imagination and concentration.

Scientists also emphasize that a pen and paper send a signal to the head to focus on the “here and now.” Thoughts stop racing, you aren’t checking phone notifications every five minutes, and time begins to flow differently. Scientifically speaking, this activates the Reticular Activating System (RAS) in our brain. Think of it as a finely tuned sensor that signals that what’s happening right now is important; we should focus on it and cut off external stimuli. Typing on a keyboard doesn’t have the same effect.

And if you remember even basic biology, you know that our left and right hemispheres are responsible for different things. Doing something that engages both simultaneously is very beneficial for us as organisms made of body and mind. When writing, the left hemisphere handles logic and word choice, while the right works hard on visualizing letters and managing space on the page. Plus, depending on whether you’re right- or left-handed, the corresponding hemisphere controls the physical movement of tracing those beautiful (or, as mentioned, “chicken scratch”) letters. This creates a state of internal harmony – the hemispheres are cooperating. And from that cooperation, it’s a very short step to the famous state of “flow” – that perfect harmony of thought and movement, where you forget the world, become completely absorbed, and feel like things are “just happening.” (You can achieve similar states through painting, sculpting, knitting, or weaving.)

Thirdly, and not insignificantly – handwriting improves our fine motor skills and hand dexterity. And if you make sure to sit up straight and tall while doing it, it can impact your entire upper posture. Did I mention this delays aging? I did, and this is another piece of that puzzle.

Writing is also a great option for people who feel they need moments of respite during the day. Morning journaling, a gratitude diary, or any form of writing down thoughts can be a life-saver as a way to start the day. It gives you a chance to breathe, quiet down, and anchors you in that “here and now,” arming you with “superpowers” – it will be easier to regain calm in stressful situations later because you’ll have that mental space to return to.

And if you’re someone who is constantly told you should meditate, but the mere thought of sitting still and watching your thoughts (which are swinging around like a troop of crazy monkeys) makes you cringe – consider writing. Or rather, transcribing something. I’m not even talking about calligraphy (though that would be best), but even the slow, conscious movement of a pen across paper will have a calming and grounding effect.

Handwriting is also a great antidote to digital overstimulation. It’s often cited as an element of “slow life” – a way of living that lets us take a break from the madness of a world spinning too fast. Some even choose a pen as a deliberate act of rebellion in a “clicked-out” world of screens. But writing as a part of a “slow life” has several features that are becoming a true luxury today.

Most importantly, we give ourselves the luxury of spending time calmly, without rushing and without feeling like we’re wasting it. Taking audio notes on a phone and converting them to text takes 3 minutes. Writing the same thing on paper and reflecting on it as you write takes a quarter of an hour. A quarter of an hour to just breathe.

Secondly, by writing, we grant ourselves the luxury of monotasking; we don’t demand divided attention from ourselves. There are no multiple browser tabs here, no flashing notifications – just you, the paper, and a lack of distractions. We can first learn to live without the fear of FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out). Then, in the next step, we can embrace JOMO – the Joy Of Missing Out – and start feeling happy that something is indeed passing us by, and rightfully so (because do we really need to know about the latest internet-celebrity drama?).

Thirdly, “slow life” shows us how important it is to relearn how to use all our senses – to notice flavours, scents, textures, and colours. The shade of the paper, the colour of the ink, the texture of the page, the softness of a notebook cover – we get the chance to feel all of this and allow ourselves to be enchanted by it. (The “flavour” part might be tricky, though, as I wouldn’t exactly recommend eating the paper.)

Fourthly, accepting imperfection. This is particularly important for perfectionists! Anything you write by hand that you deem a mistake or imperfect can be crossed out, but the trace remains. You can also consciously leave it in that imperfect form, without any guilt. Paper is not a word processor where you can polish a single sentence forever and never admit you did so because there’s no record of the process. Paper teaches us that we are human, not robots or AI.

Do you feel encouraged to buy yourself an exceptionally comfortable pen or fountain pen, but you aren’t sure what to write? Anything!

Grocery lists and to-do lists. Letters to friends and letters to your favourite literary characters – the latter you’ll never send, but sending isn’t the point. Diaries, gratitude journals, “morning pages” like Julia Cameron, notes on books you’ve read or movies you’ve watched. You can transcribe beloved poems and jot down favourite quotes. You can write out funny-sounding words in a foreign language.

Let me know how it is for you and your writing. What do you write, or why is it that you don’t even know if you own a comfortable pen because the keyboard reigns supreme? And if anyone starts writing, I’d love to read about what it gives you. For me, it provides a sense of peace and a return to simple things. And when I handwrite work-related matters, it also gives me the impression that I’m working at my own pace, where quality and substance matter more than speed and “delivery.”

Aga J. Mackiewicz

for Intensive Chapters

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