染雾TED英语演讲稿：给陌生人的情书 篇一
Dear Stranger,
I hope this letter finds you in good health and high spirits. As I sit here, penning my thoughts to you, I am struck by the sheer beauty of the human connection we have the potential to forge. In this vast and chaotic world, it is remarkable how two souls who have never met can touch each other's lives in such profound ways.
You see, dear stranger, I believe that each person we encounter, no matter how brief the interaction, has the power to leave an indelible mark on our hearts. Whether it be a smile exchanged on a crowded street or a kind word spoken in passing, these seemingly insignificant moments have the ability to shape our lives in ways we may never fully comprehend.
In a society that often encourages us to build walls around ourselves, it is crucial to remember the immense power of vulnerability. We are all connected, woven together by a tapestry of shared experiences, emotions, and dreams. And it is through this interconnectedness that we find solace, comfort, and a sense of belonging.
So, dear stranger, I urge you to embrace the beauty of the unknown. Reach out to those around you, even if they may seem like unfamiliar faces in a sea of strangers. Engage in conversations that transcend the superficial and delve into the depths of the human soul. It is in these moments of raw authenticity that we truly discover ourselves and others.
Remember, dear stranger, that love knows no boundaries. It is not confined by the limits of time, distance, or familiarity. Love is a force that can bridge the gaps between us, uniting us in a shared understanding and compassion. And it is through love that we can bring light to the darkest corners of our world.
In closing, dear stranger, I want you to know that you are not alone. You are a part of a vast network of souls, all seeking connection and understanding. So, let us embrace our shared humanity, and in doing so, let us create a world where strangers are no longer strangers, but rather, kindred spirits on this beautiful journey of life.
With love and gratitude,
A Fellow Traveler
TED英语演讲稿：给陌生人的情书 篇二
Dear Stranger,
As I sit down to write this letter, I am struck by the peculiar beauty of our existence. In this vast and ever-changing world, we are surrounded by countless individuals who we may never have the chance to know. And yet, amidst this sea of strangers, there is an undeniable connection that binds us all.
I write to you, dear stranger, to remind you of the power of your presence. Your mere existence in this world has the potential to leave a lasting impact on those around you. Whether you realize it or not, your actions, your words, and your choices have the ability to shape the lives of others in profound ways.
It is easy to become consumed by our own lives, our own struggles, and our own desires. But in doing so, we often overlook the beauty that lies in the connections we can form with those we have never met. We forget that within every stranger lies a story waiting to be heard, a perspective waiting to be understood, and a heart waiting to be touched.
So, dear stranger, I implore you to embrace the art of curiosity. Take the time to engage with those around you, to listen to their stories, and to learn from their experiences. It is through these interactions that we can break down the barriers that separate us and create a world where compassion and understanding thrive.
In a society that often encourages us to focus on our differences, it is important to remember the common thread that unites us all: our humanity. We all experience joy, pain, love, and loss. We all have dreams, fears, and aspirations. And it is through this shared human experience that we can find solace and connection with one another.
So, dear stranger, I urge you to step out of your comfort zone and embrace the unknown. Seek out opportunities to connect with those who may seem unfamiliar or different from you. In doing so, you may just discover a world of beauty, love, and understanding that you never knew existed.
In closing, dear stranger, I want you to know that your presence matters. Your kindness, your empathy, and your willingness to reach out to others can make a world of difference. So, let us come together as strangers-turned-friends, united by a shared desire to create a world filled with love, acceptance, and connection.
With heartfelt warmth,
A Fellow Sojourner
TED英语演讲稿：给陌生人的情书 篇三
TED英语演讲稿：给陌生人的情书
I was one of the only kids in college who had a reason to go to the P.O. box at the end of the day, and that was mainly because my mother has never believed in email, in Facebook, in texting or cell phones in general. And so while other kids were BBM-ing their parents, I was literally waiting by the mailbox to get a letter from home to see how the weekend had gone, which was a little frustrating when Grandma was in the hospital, but I was just looking for some sort of scribble, some unkempt cursive from my mother.
And so when I moved to New York City after college and got completely sucker-punched in the face by depression, I did the only thing I could think of at the time. I wrote those same kinds of letters that my mother had written me for strangers, and tucked them all throughout the city, dozens and dozens of them. I left them everywhere, in cafes and in libraries, at the U.N., everywhere. I blogged about those letters and the days when they were necessary, and I posed a kind of crazy promise to the Internet: that if you asked me for a hand-written letter, I would write you one, no questions asked. Overnight, my inbox morphed into this harbor of heartbreak -- a single mother in Sacramento, a girl being bullied in rural Kansas, all asking me, a 22-year-old girl
Well, today I fuel a global organization that is fueled by those trips to the mailbox, fueled by the ways in which we can harness social media like never before to write and mail strangers letters when they need them most, but most of all, fueled by crates of mail like this one, my trusty mail crate, filled with the scriptings of ordinary people, strangers writing letters to other strangers not because they're ever going to meet and laugh over a cup of coffee, but because they have found one another by way of letter-writing.
But, you know, the thing that always gets me about these letters is that most of them have been written by people that have never known themselves loved on a piece of paper. They could not tell you about the ink of their own love letters. They're the ones from my generation, the ones of us that have grown up into a world where everything is paperless, and where some of our best conversations have happened upon a screen. We have learned to diary our pain onto Facebook, and we speak swiftly in 140 characters or less.
But what if it's not about efficiency this time? I was on the subway yesterday with this mail crate, which is a conversation starter, let me tell you. If you ever need one, just carry one of these. (Laughter) And a man just stared at me, and he was like, "Well, why don't you use the Internet?" And I thought, "Well, sir, I am not a strategist, nor am I specialist. I am merely a storyteller." And so I could tell you about a woman whose husband has just come home from Afghanistan, and she is having a hard time unearthing this thing called conversation, and so she tucks love letters throughout the house as a way to say, "Come back to me. Find me when you can." Or a girl who decides that she is going to leave love letters around her campus in Dubuque, Iowa, only to find her efforts ripple-effected the next day when she walks out onto the quad and finds love letters hanging from the trees, tucked in the bushes and the benches. Or the man who decides that he is going to take his life, uses Facebook as a way to say goodbye to friends and family. Well, tonight he sleeps safely with a stack of letters just like this one tucked beneath his pillow, scripted by strangers who were there for him when.
These are the kinds of stories that convinced me that letter-writing will never again need to flip back her hair and talk about efficiency, because she is an art form now, all the parts of her, the signing, the scripting, the mailing, the doodles in the margins. The mere fact that somebody would even just sit down, pull out a piece of paper and think about someone the whole way through, with an intention that is so much harder to unearth when the browser is up and the iPhone is pinging and we've got six conversations rolling in at once, that is an art form that does not fall down to the Goliath of "get faster," no matter how many social networks we might join. We still clutch close these letters to our chest, to the words that speak louder than loud, when we turn pages into palettes to say the things that we have needed to say, the words that we have needed to write, to sisters and brothers and even to strangers, for far too long. Thank you. (Applause) (Applause)
