I’ve been writing Letters of Gratitude for twelve and a half years. Nearly 315 to date. Yet this enriching, endearing hobby continues to surprise. To wit: to this point I have never had a cache of letters written but not yet sent. When I write a letter (usually two or three per month) it gets printed and goes into the mailbox post haste. But sharing this musing, the day after Memorial Day, there are literally a handful of letters on my hard drive awaiting printing and delivery.

It’s all due to happenstance. Three of the letters are to 20-somethings in my orbit, who are soon to transform their life circumstance—major relocations, changing professions, continuing their education; the typical upheaval that occurs in early adulthood. I feel gratitude to all of them for varying reasons and put my thoughts to paper. But I can’t pull the trigger until they pull the trigger, if that makes sense.

The other pair of letters defy easy description. Suffice to say they’ll be in the mailbox (or hand-delivered) soon, but not just yet. Timing is everything.

Over the last month or six weeks I wrote these five Letters of Gratitude, currently in a state of “suspended animation” because I couldn’t not write them. The sentiments bubbled out of me, and it was cathartic to put it down on paper. Soon enough, when the time is right, they’ll be delivered and shared.

The Lesson: Show gratitude compulsively. Obsessively. If you can’t write about it, then express it verbally. Tell someone they’re important to you, don’t hold back. Don’t just think it, express it. When we think of “unburdening” ourselves, it’s usually framed in the negative: IE—telling someone off.

I’m proof positive that unburdening yourself can be a positive, joyful experience, for the person receiving and the person professing their gratitude.