How’s this letter finding you today?

I hope you have something cosy to read or savor this weekend.

Writing about my art these last 2 weeks made me think about another thing that is at the same time incredibly physical (I mean paper books, which fill a room, and which you can caress and smell, bury your entire face in), personal and dare I say spirirtual (yes even a smut book is spiritual in a way, don’t ask me to explain because I’m not sure yet how to articulate this feeling/opinion/knowledge).

But as opposed to my art, which I started acquiring and displaying more after my breakup, with books, it was the opposite.

But let me first go back in time (if you’re a long-time reader you’d know I’m a fan of time travel):

I started reading at age 3, I started writing at age 4, and I never stopped. I grew up around books, and started collecting them as soon as I could. My childhood memories are all tied to a book - the book my grandma got me when I was sick at age 6 (The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe, naturally), perusing through books in my grandparents’ laundry room (they had so many books even their laundry room had to be utilized this way), how my little cousins and tehir neighbors would gather on the carpet around me and listen to me reading out loud, enacting the different cahracters, or just making up a story as I go, my dad reading and re-reading and re-reading Marvin K. Mooney Will You Please Go Now to me and the laughing fits that woudl ensue (from both of us), my furst “novel” from age 7 which our family friends still have, scribbled in a notebook in my first-grader round handwriting (the protagonist was called Avital.)

And then came Belle. Well, she came somewhere in between all that, when I was 6, on a VHS tape my uncle Ari got me.

Like every bookworm in the 1990s I was enchanted, and not by the rose; I was captivated, and not by the beast. It was a dream come true, in animation at least.

And I don’t even mean the library in the Beast’s castle. They had me right there at the humble bookstore with the ladder, or when the townspeople sang about how Belle’s nose was stuck in a book. It was me, I found my (prettier, maturer, better singer, worse decision maker) avatar.

By the time I left my marital apartment, I had 3,000 books. 500 of which were my son’s.

It’s a long and personal story, but I fled my marital home. For weeks in advance I hid away my most precious books and art in my friend’s place, and on the day - I left with the clothes on my back, my computer, candlesticks and 1 carload-full of clothes, documents and necssities. Everything else in my post breakyp basement apartment was either collected by my friends from charity shops, or bought on Facebook Marketplace, with a few items from Ikea.

For the first time in my life I had only 30 books living with me. Who was I with only 30 books? That was yet to be seen.

But it’s almost shabbat and I need to go make dinner, so the identity crisis and rebirth will wait for part 2. But don’t worry, there’s a happy ending.

For now, tell me about your history with books, please. I’d love to hear it. And also, if you’re in a season of unshrinking, may I recommend downloading my free Unshrinking Workbook? It’s a guided journal (with an AI companion to boot!) and you can find it right here.

Until next time,

Yours,

Chedva x

ps. End the war. Bring the hostages home. Feed Gaza. Elections now.

How are you?

Me? I honestly couldn’t tell you.

Most of the time I’m oddly calm about you know, life or death. But also deeply sad and rage-y about the human exclamation points who are leading us to more suffering and destruction, continuously. I seem to be handling things well, mechanically well. But then something tiny and insignificant doesn’t work (coffee getting cold too fast, browser tab freezing, not finding my eye drops) and I can fall apart. Call it resilience or delusion, this is what exists at the moment. But I cherish structure more than ever – and so here I am, typing away to share thoughts and feelings and feel like I can control a small part of the world, my Substack.

The Stupid Idea You’re Embarassed By? It Might Be a Lifeline for Someone

A few days ago, in the middle of another devastating news cycle, in between shelter runs, an unexpected idea landed:
What if I held a Portal Pages session?

Portal Pages is something I prototyped once — a non-book-club where we use the characters and themes of a novel as a portal for deeper, more connected conversation. You don’t need to read the book. The story is just a mirror. The point is us.

My inner voice immediately chimed in:
“This is unhinged. People are in shelters. Kids are home. You haven’t touched this format in 6 months. Who are you to offer something like this now?”

But something in me refused to shut it down.

So I posted about it. I caveated it (“call me delusional if you want, I won’t mind”). I gave it room to breathe.

And it happened.
Six people joined me on Zoom to explore time, loss, and love through The Time Traveler’s Wife. It was part meditation, part tarot reading, part spiritual practice, part geeky book hang. It was quiet and powerful and necessary.

And the feedback?

“You’re a natural facilitator.”
“Would pay for this.”
“Nourishing, healing, opened my heart and eyes.”
“Please do more.”

Why am I sharing this?

Because this is also my philosophy at Consider Labs.
Not only the book club part — the part where we follow the thread of curiosity until it leads somewhere meaningful.
Where asking what wants to emerge now? isn’t a distraction, it’s the strategy.
Where we let softness guide us toward clarity.
Where “noticing something strange and following it” isn’t off-brand — it is the brand.

We need more places to pause, reconnect, and reflect — especially in chaos.
And sometimes, the idea that feels “too weird” or “too soon” is actually exactly right.

So if you’ve been sitting on an idea that feels out of left field… maybe don’t talk yourself out of it just yet.

What Happened Inside the Portal

We spent 90 minutes together — six of us — navigating time, loss, memory, and the beautifully absurd tension between fate and free will.

We used The Time Traveler’s Wife as our jumping-off point, but really, it was just the excuse — a shared mirror that let us see ourselves more clearly.

Here’s some of what we explored together:

• Perspectives, multiplicity and reality — holding opposing realities at once without needing to resolve them

• Freedom, determinism and fate — where does choice exist, and what is our relationship with determinism?

• Time and body limitations — our physical vulnerability and the strange, ticking urgency of being human

• Grief and loss — how we live with the knowledge of endings, and still hope

• Readiness and perfectionism — that gnawing urge to control the uncontrollable

(And a few things we didn’t get to but are still hanging in the ether: reparenting our past selves, the idea of chosen family, and what it means to feel truly safe in community.)

ps. You can grab the printable theme cards here

The Books That Came With Us

Yes, we mentioned The Time Traveler’s Wife (Audrey Niffenegger), but also:

• The Year of Magical Thinking — Joan Didion

• The Body Keeps the Score — Bessel van der Kolk

• End and Beginning — Wisława Szymborska

• Sonnets to Orpheus — Rainer Maria Rilke

Other books I pulled quotes from — some we used, some are still waiting:

• The Compassionate Mind — Paul Gilbert

• Bone Black — bell hooks

• The Essential Rumi — tr. Coleman Barks

• The Way of Integrity — Martha Beck

• Time Is a Mother — Ocean Vuong

• What Kind of Woman — Kate Baer (my poetry crush)

You can find them all on my Bookshop storefront

A Question to Take With You

What’s your relationship with time?
And what version of you is asking that question?

Let that one sit. Let it trail you around the kitchen.

What’s Next for Portal Pages?

Honestly? I don’t fully know. I’m still listening.

Do we want to meet monthly? Hybrid or in-person? Should there be a post-session reflection, or a quiet thread for people to drop things into later?

If you’ve been part of a session — or if you’re just curious — I’d love to hear from you. What would support you? What would feel nourishing, not another obligation?

Portal Pages was born out of curiosity. It’ll grow the same way.

Want to be part of this journey? Incredible. Fill this interest list form please.

There’s Now a Whole Portal Pages Section

If this kind of reflection-space-without-homework speaks to you, I’ve got news: Portal Pages officially has its own corner of my Substack.

It’s where I’ll be sharing:

• session recaps like this one (even if you couldn’t attend, you’re part of the conversation)

• deeper questions we’ve explored

• behind-the-scenes thoughts on the books, themes, and weird little portals we walk through together

• maybe even guest reflections, who knows?

Check it out here and subscribe to that section specifically if you want more of this kind of content in your inbox.

And since you’re already here, you might also want to peek at my newly updated About page — it’s part personal story, part breadcrumb trail, part invitation to join the conversation in whatever way fits you best right now.

In the Meantime…

If you’re new here: welcome. I write about work, self-reflection, spiritual practice, and books — with the occasional portal thrown in.
You can subscribe here or forward this to someone who would love a weird little ritual like this.

If you want more tools for introspection:

• CuriosityGPT: a free AI tool to turn your “I don’t know” into a better question.

• Curiosity Lab: my 1:1 strategy deep-dive offer (and yes, I’m working on a less-ugly landing page soon).

And if something stirred in you after reading this — even just a half-formed thought — I’d love to hear it.
The portal is still open.

Until next time (hopefully),
Chedva x

This issue of the newsletter is coming to you hot from NY where I just had an amazing avocado toast because I’m a millennial cliche. Here’s what you can expect from this one (except maybe some coffee stains from my second Americano I’m sipping while typing):

• The tea about the Portal Pages pilot and why holding this experimentation felt like the most vulnerable thing I’ve done in a while

• What I’m doing in New York and why it feels like time travel

• What bubbled in me when watching Gypsy on Broadway and what it has to do with being an entrepreneur

• Work that’s wort it

• The rawest, most beautiful text I got in a long time

Ready? Buckle up cause here we go!

The Portal Pages Experiment: Vulnerability in Action

When I invited a small group to join me for a mysterious book club format earlier this week, I wasn't prepared for how vulnerable it would feel. Even inviting people felt deeply personal and vulnerable to me. What if they think the format is weird? What if they expect it to be a normal book club and are disappointed? What if they don’t feel comfortable enough to share and openly participate?

The thing is, Portal Pages isn’t a regular book club (it’s a cool book club! Sorry, had to shove this reference): We don’t necessarily discuss books, but use them as portals for deeper discussions, with the characters as our avatars. I had a whole format outlined and detailed - and I wasn’t sure it would work. I wanted it to be witchy, spiritual, transformative - and I felt like by inviting people into this portal, I’m almost inviting them into my heart, guts on full display. So what did I do? I procrastinated :) I only invited very few people, and then kind of caught myself and invited more at the very last minute.

I believe we don’t speak about this enough:

(I’d also say courage, but in my book vulnerabillty IS courage.)

Whether it’s a survey to gauge interest in a new service, a startup’s product pilot, trying to bring together a few different friends into a group, rehearsing a speech you’re giving - it’s the same feeling in the pitt of your stomach, right?

But the thing is, as someone who strives to live life and do business with curiosity and playfulness - that’s actually how it looks like in real life: New idea. Excitement. Playfulness. Anxiety. Vulnerability. Courage. And then sometimes: Elation. A new thing was brought into the world (after tweaking and refining of course, I don’t want to oversimplify it.)

I won’t keep you waiting: the meetup was magical.

I asked participants to introduce thmselves as characters from The Time Traveler’s Wife, to step into different timelines, and to use themes like reparenting ourselves, grief, chosen family and more as reflective pools for introspection. We lit candles, we symbolically set our watches aside (someone even forgot theirs at my place - perfect excuse to meet again!), and we agreed that time is more than our limited perception of it.

Was the meeting a success? Yes, but also: It’s complicated. Yes, because we created magic together - it was an evening of open, thinking hearts and deeply feeling brains. And - it’s complicated because I tested the format and I found out it needed a lot of tweaking before going on with it. So it will be a while before Portal Pages become a recurring event BUT I’m excited and relieved and can’t wait to explore it even more.

A few gifts from me to you:

Subscribe to the new Portal Pages sub-newsletter if you’re interested in getting updates, and I’ll email you:

• The playlist I created for the 1st Portal Pages

• Printable theme cards

• Character guides

New York, Time Travel, and Finding My Audacity Again

So why am I in New York? Officially, I'm participating in AJC’s Global Forum (speaking tomorrow at the Access Unconference so come say hi if you’re there). But there's more to it.

I realized recently that while I've gained so much through my healing journey, I've missed something: My audacity. That bold, unapologetic courage that defined my entrepreneurial self in 2017-2020.

Walking the streets of New York feels like time travel. This city has always represented possibility to me - the place where big ideas are born and bold moves are celebrated. I'm here not just for the conference, but to reconnect with that entrepreneurial audacity as Consider launches.

Going back to the idea of experimentation and playfulness, maybe it’s becuase this is where my best childhood memories happened. Where I allowed myself the most to be a kid.

About a year ago, I was accepted to SheShe, a Meta mentorship initiative for women. When I joined, it was before mediation, before divorce, when I wasn't even sure I could continue bearing life. But it felt like something, a spark of hope. Something to remind me of my professional, creative, curious self who doesn't see limits.

When they paired me with Fiona Darmon as my mentor, I was thrilled. I thought she'd help me "get back on track" and restore my marketing and strategy agency to its former glory, or alternatively, find a job.

How wrong I was. Instead of all my assumptions (like exclamation points, they were incorrect), magic happened. Fiona gave me something much more important than guidance or interviews. She gave me permission.

It started as permission to rest. To recover. To take a moment. (Pause for laughter because if we know each other, it's clear how difficult this is for me. And that's exactly why I needed it.)

It continued as permission to do something strange and write a book. That book became the blueprint for new venture: Consider - a transformative methodolgy of question asking for business and life. And it feels extra symbolic that I’m here in NY as I’m working on launching it next month.

What Gypsy Taught Me About Entrepreneurship

Last night, I walked away from "Gypsy" on Broadway (so good! Audra McDonald is incredible) with many thoughts about entrepreneurship and values, and of course, the sacred idea of resilience and not quitting.

There's something about watching a story of ambition, determination, and the costs of single-minded pursuit that makes you question your own relationship with drive.

As entrepreneurs, we're told that grit and perseverance are everything. Never give up! Push through! But watching Rose's relentless pursuit made me wonder: When is resilience healthy, and when does it become destructive obsession? When should we pivot instead of persist? And what’s the point when resilience makes us blind to the fact that we left the values (that got us here in the first place) behind?

These questions deeply resonate with me looking back at my own journey, and they echo something I’m working on that’s meant to support values-driven and heart-first entrepreneurs across industries.

Work That's Worth It: Questioning Career Priorities

My latest podcast episode with Georgi Enthoven, author of "Work That's Worth It," aligns perfectly with these Broadway reflections.

Georgi challenges the false choice between doing good and earning well - a divide I've experienced and seen with so many people I know. My favorite insight was when Georgi said:

I'm holding Georgi's question close: "What is worth your 90,000 hours?" It's not just about endurance, but what energizes us enough to sustain the journey. This questioning creates space to examine not just what we're doing, but why - and whether that "why" still resonates with who we've become.

Listen to Work That’s Worth It on Looks Like Work:

Spotify | Apple Podcasts

A Message That Moved Me to Tears

Recently, I received this message from someone who participated in one of my beta Curiosity Sessions:

"Ok, I don't even know how to describe how deep and critical the insights I got from our session were. I finally understood that I don't believe in myself in this context. I understand it's not about this specific course, but about developing this self-belief. I'm pretty shocked, it caught me by surprise, but of course now I see what's the source of it. Would never have gotten there without your GENIUS questions. I did not expect such profound insights. So I'm sad now but also, I see a clear way from here on out."

Shortly after our session, she organically received demand for a new course - not the one she came to me about, but one better suited for her audience and which she had more confidence in.

This is the power of questions. Not as interrogation, but as illumination. Not to demand answers, but to create space for discovery. This badass business owner took what she got in our session and subsequent process and made magic with it.

Are You Vulnerable Enough to Experiment?

Let’s return to my initial question. Are you vulnerable enough to experiment? To try something that might not work? To show up as your full, complex self?

Consider is my experiment. The Portal Pages was an experiment. This newsletter is an experiment.

After my Curiosity Sessions beta tests this past month, I'm opening the waiting list for Consider's official Curiosity Sessions soon. These aren't typical consulting sessions - they're dedicated spaces for transformation through questioning.

What experiment are you curious about but haven't dared to try? What questions might unlock your next breakthrough?

I'd love to hear from you - hit reply and let me know what you're questioning lately.

Until next time,

Chedva x