When was the last time you wrote a letter?

Not a quick text.

Not an email dashed off between meetings or errands. 

 A real letter — written slowly, with intention, meant for just one person.

 I was thinking about this after reading the novel - The Correspondent,by Virginia Evans, just published last year. 

It’s quietly taken off… and what makes it so compelling isn’t a dramatic plot or big reveal.

The entire book is told through letters — the correspondence of the main character, a woman in her 70's navigating her life, grief, regrets, successes, and of course, connection. 

At first blush, it doesn’t feel extraordinary.

But on second glance, it captures something deeper — everyday life, and the threads of connection that shape it.

We live in a time when it can feel like everything is broken.

Scroll social media for a few minutes and you might think the country is hopelessly divided.

Turn on the news and it can seem like anger is everywhere.

It's depressing. 
It's worrying.  
It just seems so far away from how things used to feel.

But I read a piece this week that made a simple point that really made me think.  
Most Americans are simply living their lives.

Working.
Raising kids.
Helping neighbors.
Coaching Little League.
Going to church or synagogue.
Dropping off meals when someone is sick.
Volunteering in their towns.

They just don’t post about it.

And the data backs it up.

Last weekend I spent time with close friends, talking, sharing, and laughing nonstop. By the end of it, I felt lighter, calmer, and more like myself again. It was a powerful reminder that joy and connection aren’t luxuries—they’re essential habits for a long, energized life.

There’s real power in that connection. Gathering around a table, hugging family and friends, sharing stories, passing down traditions, adding your own something special to the meal, cheering for a favorite team…

A client of mine recently had a powerful realization. 

After months of working on strategies to improve her nutrition, exercise, and sleep regimens, she had an epiphany during one of our final sessions: what she needed most to support her well-being was a vibrant, supportive community. 

She committed to stepping outside her comfort zone and prioritizing this foundation of well-being.

Her story stuck with me because it reflects something so many of us feel but don’t always name: we’re missing true connection. Our communities —and the oxytocin-fueled connection they provide - are essential for long-term health.

It’s why the outgoing Surgeon General’s recent warning about the crisis of disconnection resonates so deeply.

Deep breath. This will be short.

Somehow this week, my planned newsletter on gut health just didn’t seem to fit.

Because I know there are a lot of feelings circulating out there right now, in the days after a consequential election.

Many are joyful. Many are fearful. Many are hopeful. Many are unsettled.

The emotions couldn't be farther apart.  Just like our politics seem to be right now.

For nearly 40 years, Labor Day Weekend has marked a “Same Time Next Year” tradition of gathering with my college friends. We all hold that weekend sacred, ensuring it has a permanent spot on our calendars. Year after year, we journey to the same place and spend the weekend together, comfortably reconnecting as though no time has passed.

 I am immensely grateful for this ritual of gathering.  It’s a constant reminder of the vital role friendship plays in our lives.