The Friendsgiving gift that matters
Spoiler alert: it has to do with time. (Plus a special book offer for my Substack subscribers!)
Hello my writer friends, and happy Wednesday.
Thank you so much for sending in your loglines! The deadline for getting them into me has passed and I have quite a lot to read, so give me a few beats to select the ones for workshop. Thank you to all who participated and/or upgraded in order to join in this exercise.
On a different note: November is upon us! We’re in the gauntlet now: it’s go go go until 2024. That’s how it always feels, right? Once Halloween hits and Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas takes over radio stations, it really does feel like a colossal test of stamina and goodwill to make it to January 1st.
Is it possible to make it through the holidays without wastefulness and stress?
But what if, instead of go-go-go, we took it slow-slow-slower? Advertising and social media and podcast ads and so forth, they’re going to try and convince you that you need to deck your halls in homemade garlands and purchase fleece-lined tights from TikTok and track down the “perfect gifts” for everyone you know. But you know what makes the perfect present? Listening to someone. If you’re at all like me—which you must be, in some ways, because you’ve been kind enough to follow me here—you have plenty of stuff already, so the idea of accumulating more stuff and sending additional packages out into the universe can add to the stress thrumming through this month. And while material gifts are great—you know what is the most priceless thing that you can give this season? In my opinion, it’s time.
Yes, through volunteering, yes. But also, through giving time to friends and family and your neighbors down the street, or hall. Giving of your time will look differently for different people—maybe you are a cookie maker, or bring homemade granola to your loved ones like my neighbors. Or maybe you came of age like me when AT&T’s “Reach out and touch someone” ads were on the networks, and you use the holidays to spontaneously call people (without texting to set up a time first ;) to engage in some old fashioned checking in on folks.
Speaking of checking in on people, how are you doing—really?
It’s long been my personal opinion—especially since the pandemic—that pretty much everyone on this planet is dying to be listened to, heard, and deeply seen. And that when people say “they’re fine,” they’re rarely fine, and that the perception of someone’s happiness and success on social media rarely correlates with how happy and successful that person actually feels.
While it isn’t feasible nor respectful to start barging people’s doors down to insist “How are you really?” there are softer, more discreet ways to check in with folks, and one of those is by building flexibility into our schedules so we can give more readily of our time. This could mean prolonging a conversation when you get the sense that someone needs companionship. It could mean checking in with elders on Sunday phone calls even though those weekly calls might involve repeated instructions on how to turn the speaker off or turn the phone’s camera around. Or it could mean not rushing during an impromptu conversation, and creating opportunities for deeper connection right there on the spot. For example: how often do you run into someone that you enjoy but don’t see often, but because of your mutual pressing errands or engagements, you quickly end the interaction with “We really have to get together!!” before launching into months of Google calendar synching and other gruesome admin that makes you want to run from this potentially deepened connection instead of toward it? But with flexibility built into our mental states, you could transform this scenario by saying, “Hey, you know what? This shitty Stop & Shop has a nice bench out in the sun there—let’s do our groceries and sit together on that bench for just a while.”
Obviously, we don’t all have the flexibility to set our own schedules— the average lunch break in America is about 20 minutes, and most of us (especially those of us with kids or other dependents) are running on military-like schedules to make things Work and Gel. But…we can get off this treadmill from time to time. Even if it’s occasional, or temporary, even if it’s only for November—we can give our ears, our time.
Last week I had a layered interaction with someone I don’t know well—a new farrier I’ve hired to do my horse’s feet. My horse, Abuelita isn’t super easy to work with, especially if there is wind (she believes wind is the devil). Because she’s barefoot and mercurial, this farrier is usually in and out in as little as ten minutes (fifteen, if there’s wind). But last week, I got the sense he wanted to linger. Aside from our shared interest in my horse not losing her shit while he’s cradling her hoof and my resulting Venmo payments, we barely know each other. So what? Sometimes, you put the OPEN FOR BUSINESS sign outside your heart and you are there for people. It’s not my story to tell, but this man has a lot happening and he needed someone to hear him. It didn’t have to be me that listened, but it was me, and I was honored that it was.
It can cost something to be there for people—maybe you run late for something, miss a call, you might even inconvenience someone. But you know what? I believe that spontaneous human-to-human conversations have the power to be life-saving. We’re living in a moment where people are carrying despair and worry and sorrow at such unmanageable depths—you don’t know, you really don’t, whether just being there for someone can help them surface to air in a key way.
For a long time, maybe decades? I myself lived like a separationist, convinced that the only person I needed was myself, that the only person I could possibly rely on was Courtney. Because of the horsey shit I post to Instagram and the cover of my memoir, I fear there’s a perception that THE YEAR OF THE HORSES is only about horse stuff, but it isn’t. My memoir is about the year I learned to connect and trust humans other than myself. Since writing that book and experiencing the life changes that led me to write it in the first place, I’ve become something of a listening evangelist. While I might not always have the answers to people’s problems or the antidote for their fears, I can listen. Listening’s where it starts.
Reach out and touch someone…through writing
This might be an awkward pivot, but let’s see how it goes. I’m interested in more people reading my memoir because I think it opens discussions about mental health and how to better see and care for people who are struggling with depression. Horses were a vehicle back to sanity for me, so it’s true that there’s some horse stuff in there, but really, the book’s for everyone who has struggled or is struggling or loves someone who is wrestling with darkness.
If you are a parent who has either lost or is losing their identity inside the role of “parent,” my memoir is for you.
If you are someone whose perfectionism creates excess anxiety and keeps them from letting loose, this is a book for you.
If you are someone who needs more play in their life, more fun, more spontaneity, more life inside their life, I think you’ll like my memoir.
In order to share my story with people it might help, I worked with my indie publisher to offer a special discount on the hardcover edition of THE YEAR OF THE HORSES this November. Maybe you can bring it to the person hosting you for Thanksgiving or Friendsgiving, maybe you can slip it to a colleague who seems down in the dumps lately, or you can give it to a new parent who is discovering the side of parenthood that no one talks about. Maybe you gift it to a horse friend (because there are some horses in it ;) or maybe you gift it to yourself. In any case, my dear subscribers, you can get 50% off of the hardcover with this special code.
There are two options to make use of this discount.
Option A (Express): Simply go to BishopandWilde.com, select the hardcover of THE YEAR OF THE HORSES and enter code MOREJOY at checkout for 50% off your purchase.
Option B (Special gifting option): If you’d like to gift the book to someone, use the same website and code as above. Then email me a proof of purchase to thequerydoula (at) gmail (dot) com and let me know who you’d like me to sign the book for. I’ll send the recipient an autographed bookplate they can stick inside the book, and I’ll also send on a handwritten holiday card to them.
Please note: the MOREJOY code only works for the hardcover version.
You don’t have to act on this offer for me to cherish you as a subscriber. I’m glad you are here in any and all ways you show up for me. Writing this Substack continues to be a lifeline, and I couldn’t be happier to watch the ways in which it’s creating connections—and deepening connections—within our bright community.
Let’s all move a little slower than we’re expected to this month. Let’s be patient. Let’s consider listening more than we talk. If you feel moved to comment on your own intentions for this holiday season, please do share them below.1
With affection,
Courtney
Comments are a privilege accorded to paid subscribers. Thank you for understanding.
Totally believe this is a better way to sanity and health for all of us--to slow the train down, especially now. Thanks for posting the story about how to do that.
Loved the story about the farrier! There's research that suggests our positive interactions with strangers add actual time to our lifespan (from the "Blue Zones" longevity work coming out of Sardinia, also featured in the Netflix doc "Live to 100"). It's so hard to make time for it, though, when the ergonomics of our lives disincentivize it. Nice to read other people live with this tension, too.
My (aspirational) intention for the holidays: Beatific patience with my children, i.e., to give them time