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We are a collective of passionate, conscious creators, dedicated to helping others write a zestful life story through conversation, awareness, self-development and fun.

12/06/2025

See full article by Shena Driscoll Salvato at https://www.elanvitae.com/single-post/the-cathartic-light

06/06/2025

See full article by Paige Nolan at https://www.elanvitae.com/single-post/to-write-a-thousand-poems-to-write-even-one

03/06/2025

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Their experts have curated experiences that provide a total reset by focusing on nervous system regulation. Every detail of their program is carefully curated so that each element builds on the previous to give you exponential results.

Swipe through to learn more about why we’re so excited to share this with you. Curious to check it out for yourself? Click on Link in bio for details or click here to visit their website.

At Elan Vitae, we only share products and services we genuinely love, use, or truly believe will support your journey toward your most zestful life story. This post contains an affiliate link, which means we may earn a small commission if you make a purchase by clicking on it—at no extra cost to you. 🤝⁠

03/04/2025

Sitting with friends for a leisurely breakfast our conversation turned to giving. Our talk flowed from the need of people to give more to one another to the fun of finding the perfect gift. The conversation then meandered to receiving as we reminisced about our childhood in early November when the extra-thick and brightly colored J.C. Penney or Sears holiday catalog was delivered in the mailbox. Everyone’s eyes lit up and we couldn’t stop laughing as we remembered the delight of paging through the catalog’s toy section, many times more than once, and either strategically or wildly circling all the items that we wanted for Christmas.

A spark of insight hit me at the end of our conversation. As an adult I cherish being able to give, be it a compliment, a gift, or time. However, receiving is much more difficult. The memory of receiving the holiday catalog made me realize this was one of the special times in my life when I felt the full-body, unabashed excitement and joy of receiving. This made me wonder what changed and it piqued my interest in the contrast that giving and receiving bring to our lives.

READ MORE by Ann Wilkie Arens at www.elanvitae.com

23/03/2025

Exactly ten years and three days before that fateful day, he was driving the two of us through that same intersection, under the same light in our first car, our unexpected transfer from home to hospital where we would return home between the chicory as three: our fresh, new blessing securely strapped in the back seat, me, her new mother, by her side. Oh the gratitude that it hadn’t happened on that day.

“I always look left before turning right on red there,” a public comment asserted below an image captured without permission in the aftermath of someone’s most vulnerable, fragile moment— stains of leaked fluid on the asphalt, shattered glass shimmering in the summer sun, emergency vehicles captured, still and silent, in the frame. Though I wanted to, I didn’t have the energy to right the wrong of something already so wrong: that he wasn’t turning right on red, that he had the right of way, that someone heading north had run the red light in a 55 mph zone.

Read FULL ARTICLE by Shena Driscoll Salvato at www.elanvitae.com

13/03/2025

I write a poem on the floor of my bedroom.
There is a portable stereo on the shelf above my head.
I call it a jam box + I listen to Carol King’s Tapestry album on repeat.
The poem is about life + what it all means.
By the end of the last verse,
I believe I have figured something out.

I write a poem at my friend’s house after a moment at the dinner table
When I ask her dad about the time he served in Vietnam –
He lovingly smiles a little in my direction
And then says
nothing.
The poem is about soldiers + family + the silence of a person’s pain.
By the end of the last verse,
I can feel all of the things I don’t understand about war packed into the white space beyond the margins -
Which is everything. . . .

READ MORE of poem by Paige Nolan at www.elanvitae.com

02/03/2025

We have a critical situation here. Although I’m not as big of a sports fan as I used to be, I still keep a casual eye on my hometown professional baseball team. They are historically terrible but this year, they made the playoffs and are having success. An article caught my eye about how the opposing team had specific individuals to blame in their teams loss to my hometown team. I don’t know why I decided to read it, but I gave it my attention. The writer, who was obviously a die hard opposing team fan, critically detailed 5 individuals to blame for this one game loss even though the series had now been tied between the two teams at one to one. He was merciless in articulating the shortcomings and inexcusable mistakes committed by these players.

After reading the article, I really tried to figure out what was this writers point? What was his message? What good did he bring about in trying to better his team’s situation? His situation or the fans? I am being critical of a critic. Pretty ironic. . . . .

READ MORE by Gabriel Perez at www.elanvitae.com

24/02/2025

I’m waiting.
Waiting for change,
waiting to feel absolute in my certainty.

I live in a place where the predictably
of seasons changing happens
in somewhat equal distribution
when paced on my calendar.

I love this.
I love that I live in a place where the transitions offer contrast—
where you can measure your time and your expansion
in increments that make sense.
There is comfort in this sense
of change and in the certainty
I feel in my body.

This year, though, I feel as . . . .

READ MORE of poem by Heather Doyle Fraser at www.elanvitae.com

06/02/2025

We had reached that time of year when darkness came early. A late afternoon run begun and the fading light would quickly decline into shadows. Without what little warmth the low hanging and dimly lit sun provided, the blackness gave way to a biting cold.

On this particular December night, moisture hung in the air as if it might snow any moment. My breath floated upward before me like the exhaust of a steam locomotive, and the frozen v***r began to accumulate on my clothes, my eyebrows, and my beard. . . .

continue to full article by Michael Scholtz at www.elanvitae.com

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