Hello Reader,

Every December seems to carry a strange kind of whiplash.

One moment we’re rushing — to wrap things up, to get things ready, to tend to the endless little pieces that somehow all become “urgent” at the same time. (If you were paying close attention to my emails yesterday you might've caught a glimpse of me falling prey to that too.)

And then, almost abruptly, we’re supposed to pivot into rest. Into stillness. Into presence.

It’s a familiar tug of war.

And if we’re honest, most of us end up losing pieces of ourselves on both ends of the rope.

Over the past few weeks, I found myself listening to This Is How You Lose the Time War again — partly for book club, partly because the season seems made for it. And somewhere in the back-and-forth between Red and Blue, I heard something that felt uncomfortably close to the way this month unfolds.

Two impulses pulling in opposite directions. Two philosophies of time negotiating for dominance. Two selves fighting for the same hours.

So, naturally, I wrote about it.

Not about the plot — but about what their correspondence opened up for me. How their letters slowed everything down. How their attention made the world feel wider. And how that kind of correspondence might be exactly what we need right now.

The essay is called “This Is How You Win the Time War.” You can read it here.​

It’s a long piece — intentionally so. Not bloated, but patient. It takes its time. It sits with the idea that we don’t win our days by squeezing them tight, but by finding the correspondence within them… the back-and-forth that isn’t a battle at all, but a conversation.

So if the holidays feel a bit like their own time war — between rushing and resting, obligation and intention — maybe this essay can offer a gentler way through. A reminder that your hours don’t need conquering. They need listening.

Thanks for reading, and thanks for being here.

See you later,
Mike

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