Newsletter examples
Here’s some samples of recent Sunday morning newsletters. If you’d like to subscribe, you can do so here.
NEWSLETTER EXAMPLE #1: On being okay
Hey there,
“I should be okay” — or some variation thereof — is something that I hear a lot.
I had time to relax all afternoon. I should be rested!
My partner is kind and a good person. I should be happy!
I make a decent living and don’t have too work too many hours. I should be grateful!
If we dig down deeply enough, though, the subtext of “I should be okay” is usually: I’m actually not okay.
But being “not okay” confuses us. I mean, my career/relationship/health is good. I should be fine, right?
Maybe it is true that your relationship or your career or how you spend your weekends is mostly fine. That’s great! But it’s also important to notice if, despite your life being good in many ways, there are some subtle things that still feel off.
It’s okay to be “not okay.” It doesn’t mean you’re selfish or ungrateful or that you’ll never be satisfied.
In fact, I think that the feeling of I’m not okay is actually an important part of our continued growth as adults. That feeling tells us there’s something that needs more attention or action. If we’re paying attention, we will have that I’m not okay feeling frequently — in tiny ways and huge ways — throughout our lives.
Being able to hear the subtle nudges of I’m not okay is what will help us make sure that we’re on the life path that is best for us. It’s a life-affirming feeling, even though it can also be uncomfortable.
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Today, instead of focusing on all the ways that you should be okay, could you gently ask yourself, “in what ways am I not okay?” And listen for the subtle, whisper-like answers?
I’ll be doing it, too.
…
And, as always, I’m rooting for you in the week ahead. You’ve got this.
Katie
NEWSLETTER EXAMPLE #2: On technology
Hey there,
It was 8 pm. I’d just gotten home from a walk, and planned to shower and make dinner. But first, I reached for my phone.
What if you didn’t?
It was a small, kind voice inside of me that asked the question. It wasn’t mean or accusatory. But I also knew it was on to something.
Lately, I’d started to wonder if used technology too much. Previously, I had always thought of myself as a “slightly below average” technology user — I don’t follow that many people on social media, I don’t text that much, I don’t get that many emails. And yet, I found myself checking my phone or my laptop:
When I’ve just gotten home, but was still in my car — before walking into the house.
Right after arriving in my home, before doing anything else. I’d set down my bags, and check my email or my phone.
When I entered my office, before starting work.
In the middle of working.
In the morning, right when I woke up.
Right before bed.
Of course, there were other times I used the internet, too. A big part of my work is on the internet — it’s how I meet with clients who don’t live nearby, and it’s how I’m sending this letter to you. But that didn’t particularly concern me.
There was something about that first type of internet usage that did feel important to look at, because it seemed like they fell into two categories:
Transitional moments. I’ve talked about transitional moments in the context of eating before, but transitions are often times when we have more feelings than we realize.
Say that we’re just gotten home from work or seeing friends. We may carry within us some tiredness or even pent up excitement from that past activity. Plus, traveling even short distances can be subtly draining, and then we are trying to focus on doing all the things we need to do when we get home.
The point here is not that transitions are the most tiring things in the world. Rather, it’s that we are often more tired or overwhelmed than werealize in these moments.
Blow-off-steam moments. You know that feeling when you’ve been working for a couple of hours (or even just 20 minutes), and suddenly checking social media or your email or that blog you like sounds like a good idea? Or suddenly grabbing a snack sounds like a good idea? If we look deeper in these moments, we pretty quickly find something like I’m tired of working and I want to less stress and more pleasure. So we use technology. Or food. Or something else.
It’s not that technology can’t be helpful to deal with the subtle tiredness of transitioning, or with blowing off steam. But it seemed like I was spending a lotof my day on technology — sometimes I would suddenly realize I’d been on Instagram for a half hour, for example, even though I just meant to do a “quick check.”
I also felt I had more trouble concentrating than I did when I was in high school. Back then, I didn’t have a smartphone and the computer in my bedroom could only do two things: word processing and solitaire. I felt like my life wasn’t that busy now, but I was getting less done than I’d like, and I felt easily distracted.
I started to wonder if technology was actually the best way to deal with these transitions or blowing off steam.
...
So in that curious moment, when I was hungry and sweaty and really wanted to “just quickly” check Instagram on my phone…I didn’t.
I lay on my bed instead.
I lay on my bed and did nothing. Just lay there. I noticed what it felt like, to have not picked up my phone. It felt pretty intense in my body at first, like I might jump out of my skin. Then it died down quite a lot.
As I lay there, I realized that I had been feeling subtly overwhelmed. My early evening had been busy, and somehow the act of going straight into a shower and making dinner had seemed like slightly too much to do. No wonder I wanted to blow off some steam in that transition.
As I continued to lie there, I noticed other things. I paid attention to the ebbing and flowing of body sensations. I reflected on some things that had been making me feel insecure lately, and found some peace about them. I even had a couple of ideas about articles to write — which was surprising because I’d been low on writing ideas lately.
When I finally got up, I felt calmer and more grounded in my body. It wasn’t like everything was fixed — I still felt tired from the day, for example — but I was able to notice those feelings while also moving onto what needed to be done.
…
That night was a few weeks ago. Since then, I’ve been trying to not use technology, at least sometimes, when I can tell that I’m using it for a transition or to blow off steam.
It doesn’t always feel great at first, to be honest. That jumping-out-of-my-skin feeling is usually there. So sometimes I’ll lie on my bed or even on the floor and just notice my thoughts and feelings and body sensations. I’ll let them be a little more intense for a few moments, and then let them ebb away.
I’m just making small experiments so far, but they’ve been useful. Last night, when I was about to browse the internet after dinner, I stayed off screens and read for three hours instead. I was surprised at how refreshed I felt, how much my stress level seemed to lower.
So that’s my offering for you this week: Is there something that you worry isn’t serving you? Can you experiment with, just once, not doing it? Intense feelings and body sensations might come up, at first. Can you sit with them, at least for a little while?
I’d love to know how it goes.
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And, as always, I’m rooting for you in the week ahead. You’ve got this.
Katie
NEWSLETTER EXAMPLE #3: Radical friendship insights from my father
Hey there,
My father is a 75-year-old man who loves bow ties, bel canto opera, and ancient military history.
He also, I have come to realize, has some pretty great insights on friendship.
As a young lawyer at a big firm, my dad always was always able to find someone down the hall to have lunch with. (For the modern lawyers reading this, dad would say: This was a different time. Lawyers at big firms actually took lunch breaks back then.)
But a decade into his career, my dad went out on his own. He got his own office, hung his shingle, and…found that he wasn’t seeing friends as nearly much. He was kind of lonely.
So he started inviting people out to lunch.
He made a list of everyone he wanted to see more of, and went down the list — calling people up and scheduling several lunches a week, as a way of breaking up his workday.
And when he finished the list? He started again at the top.
As a result, my dad had several social lunches per week. For decades.
He’s a pretty upbeat guy, which I attribute to many things — but I genuinely think that one of them is his regular social interaction.
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He and I were talking about his lunches recently, and there were two things that I thought I could learn from them. Maybe they will be helpful to you, too:
1. My dad is extremely intentional about his friendships.
In fairness, I don’t think my dad would use the word “intentional” — that’s the type of word that his Life Coach Daughter likes.
But what other word can you use, for a man who has a literal list of friendships he wants to maintain and goes down the list on a regular basis, making sure he calls up each person?
And then starts again at the top?
2. My dad is comfortable doing 100% of the initiating.
This is, in my opinion, the most radical point of all. For virtually all of his lunches, my dad initiates the social plans.
I asked him, once: Dad, do you ever worry that maybe these people aren’t initiating back, because they don’t like you as much as you like them?
To that, he gave a good-natured shrug.
“I guess I could worry about that,” he told me, “but then I might stop asking people out to lunch. And what good would that do me? Or them?”
He told me that at least some friends will casually mention that they don’t socialize that much, with anyone. This makes sense to me; the average American spends less than a half hour a day on any non-work socializing and communicating, which includes time with one’s spouse.
And the others? Dad says: If they seem to be having a nice time with me, and I’m having a nice time with them, I don’t worry about whether they’re initiating or not.
Truthfully, this is not how I’ve typically approached friendships. Quite the opposite, in fact.
In the past, I’d be okay initiating a few extra times, but if I felt like as doing most of the initiating…I’d stop reaching out to that person. I’d worry that secretly, they didn’t like me as much as I liked them, and that idea made me feel uncomfortable.
I’ve been thinking that perhaps I shouldn’t worry about initiating so much since reading Shasta Nelson’s thoughts about friendship, but having my dad as a real, living-breathing-role model pushed me even further in that direction.
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And one more thing:
For those of you with jaws agape, thinking: I definitely don’t have time for several social lunches a week — I hear you. As an introverted, working mom with two young kids…I hear you.
Even my dad’s lunch frequency varied. He spent the last decade of his career as a judge — with less lunchtime flexibility than as a self-employed person — his frequency of social lunches decreased dramatically.
So if you’re in a busy season of life, don’t get too fixated on “several lunches per week.” I think the two lessons still hold, for however often you are able to socialize.
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I offer my dad’s story to you, today, if it’s a helpful nudge:
Could it be that the missing ingredient to a satisfying, meaningful, social life is being willing to intentionally decide who you want to see, and then be willing to do 100% of the work, to see them? You might not have to do all the work – you probably won’t! — but just a willingness?
On one level, that idea feels radical. (At least to me!)
But what if it isn’t? What if it’s just a willingness to say:
Most people are lonely.
Many people are bad at initiating.
Can I help them, and me, feel more socially connected?
Because, as a reminder: regular friendship interaction can be an astonishingly effective tool for happiness, stress relief, and even momentum in other areas of your life.
Should we all channel Carlton Seaver this week?
(If so, I suggest this bow tie.)
As always, I’m rooting for you.
Katie