Welcome to Life. Unfiltered.

Dear Reader,          

My old life…

It was the autumn of 2015 in some park in New Jersey halfway between New York City and Emmaus, Pennsylvania. I was standing in front of about 500 employees about to do a Power Point presentation titled “Hard Truths.” As CEO of a global health and wellness publishing company, it was my job to explain what was happening in our business – and try to find solutions. I had a pit in my stomach because I knew the news was not good. But I was also tired of pretending there was an easy answer.

            Ad revenues were going down fast in publishing. All the ad dollars were being spent on the big digital players like Facebook and Google. In addition, the excessively funded upstarts like Buzzfeed and Vice were bleeding us dry with their sexy shiny new glow. I saw it happening right up close. I met Shane Smith of Vice at a private industry conference, his oversized bearded presence just the sort of man juice that investors loved. And Jonah Peretti of Buzzfeed had that gawky tech vibe that made people believe he knew what he was doing. Sure, they were doing great creative work. I also knew the business model was flimsy, an exit strategy their best hope. But too many people were being seduced by it. It was impossible for an 80-year-old company like ours with ancient technological infrastructure (that had once been advanced for its time), a severely underfunded pension thanks to the financial crisis of 2008, and a negative cash balance thanks to some previous bad management to compete.

            As a gray frizzy-haired woman, I was not just under the radar, I was invisible (Admittedly, I preferred it that way. And this was before gray hair became cool.). But every word at that all hands meeting in New Jersey was filtered. I was urged not to make people fear losing their jobs. I was urged to find hopeful solutions. I was urged to lie.

            I don’t like to lie.

            Trust in media was at an all-time low. I really couldn’t imagine how it could go any lower, but it did. It has.

            And people were dumping their paid subscriptions for free content online in droves. It didn’t matter that most of it was more lies. It was free and immediate at their fingertips.

            Looking out at the audience of employees – some new, some long-serving – there was an air of both excitement (hey, we are at an offsite, isn’t this fun?) and concern (Are we going to have jobs? Where is this company going and how are we going to get there?).

            Some people on my team (Corporate Comms, always) wanted me to soften my message, not scare people, keep things positive and upbeat. But I knew that type of denial was a luxury we could no longer afford. The changes around us were bigger and more threatening than even I knew at the time.

            If you think I sound bitter, I am not. Well, maybe I am. But it’s the bitterness that comes from being able to see the future and not having people believe me, either because I’m a woman, I’m older, I never dyed and rarely blow dried my hair, or they just don’t want to see it (kind of like climate change). Selling the company in 2018 was the absolute best and right decision and it bought me my freedom. I am certainly not bitter about that!

            In the final moments of the sale decision process, I checked in with an astrologer to see what insights she had. I do not rely on Astrology to make decisions, but such a big one felt worthy of checking in. She looked at the charts of the companies over the next few years.

            “If you sell to Hearst,” she said ominously, “in two years there will be some sort of major crisis. Like maybe a building falling down, or tsunami or something.”

            At that point it was too late to turn back and honestly, I just needed to get the money for my shareholders and get out.  Thank God I did.

            Two years later Covid hit.

            Since then, I have watched things play out even more dramatically than I ever expected, but exactly as the system was set up to perform. Advertising is a soulless business and will go wherever the reach is greatest and cost the lowest, unless it’s the Superbowl or some other high-status avenue for vulnerable people.

            And then there are the things people do decide to spend their money on. I saw that too in the book business: diets, miracle cures, fake gurus offering promises of salvation.

            But I was done. And grateful to walk away with enough money to survive (the remaining proceeds of the sale after paying debts and taxes were split evenly among my family).

My new life…

            Once I was free from the business, I could finally tell myself the truth: I don’t believe in diets. I don’t believe in gurus. And the only miracle cures I believe in are the ones you find within yourself.

            For a few years after I sold the company, I wrote a book about learning to love that didn’t sell to any publishers for many good reasons. I don’t have a Ph.D. in anything. I’ve never written a bestseller. I have no interest in being a celebrity anything. My social media “platform” is small. I’m a complicated woman. And I really don’t like being on TV.

            Then I wrote a different book. A book that came to me as a surprise. A gift. In writing Love Nature Magic, Shamanic Journeys into the Heart of my Garden I actually learned how to love. I found a small publisher whose values match my own, and an editor who was willing to take a big risk on me because we had known each other a long time. My advance was minuscule, which was totally fine with me. Having been on the other side of the business, I knew they were carrying the financial burden to publish my book. (Did you know that only 20% of all books sold ever make a profit?)

Money is nice. But I’m not here for the money. However, having been a blogger for 10 years without making a dime from it I do have a profound respect for the valuing of creators, and those who create content. What I valued most from that experience was what I learned from my readers, and the relationships I developed. So that is why I am launching a newsletter with Substack: Life. Unfiltered. I’m charging for my content because my life experience was hard-earned, and it’s valuable. But you don’t have to pay me if you don’t want to, because more than the money, we need to find ways to solve our problems together and most importantly, design a better future.

I don’t want to be boxed into any category. I don’t want to be censored. I don’t want to be overly cautious about what I say and who I might frighten or offend. I am a complicated woman who has lived a very unusual life and I’m ready to talk about it all.

            I follow politics closely and have studied history. I live in Pennsylvania, which is often overlooked until it comes to elections, and then we are remarked on for our unique purple color. But here on the ground I am a lifelong witness to why. Plus, I am a poll worker.

            I read extensively and am an obsessive-compulsive documentary watcher.

            I have friends in high and low places.

            I am a mother and grandmother who has lived a full life of adventure of all kinds. All kinds. And I’m a feminist who has studied the history of religion, women, sexuality and pleasure.

            I’ve also studied food systems, agriculture, nature, and human health my whole life so I can sort the wheat from the chaff. I am not a vegetarian, but I am now gluten free because it has cured my acid reflux and two of my daughters get migraines from eating it. I love to garden and have a freezer full of food I grew and processed myself.

            Most importantly, I really care about the truth. About finding it. Telling it. Sharing it. Even if it goes against the grain and is unpopular.

            In my life I have been deeply impacted by lies. Lies in relationships. Lies in business. Lies to myself. I hate lies and with my experience I can now smell them and see them more clearly.  I am committed to living my own true life in the time I have left. Unfiltered. And I feel compelled to share my insights and perspectives with others. With you.

            Everyone at that offsite in New Jersey has gone off to other jobs, other lives. None of it was easy. But when the dust settled, I felt truly free for the first time in my life. And it felt good. Finally, I could write and speak from my true heart, my true self. And that’s what I plan on doing.

I’m here to tell the truth, which is priceless. And sometimes hard. But I’m also here to help dream and create a new future – one where we live in harmony and in balance with nature, which, since we are nature, also means living in harmony and balance with ourselves.

I’m also ready to have more fun!

            That’s why I am here. And I hope that’s why you are here too.

Join me and we can talk about it. You can even ask me questions and I’ll try to answer them.

If you want to join me for this mysterious journey, sign up. No pressure. Just life. Unfiltered.

Thank you!